The airport concourse stretched ahead for what seemed like miles. Everywhere, throngs of strangers scurried like ants, oblivious to me and our fellow travelers. Most stared at their phones.
After a long walk, I arrived at Gate 81 and leaned against a column to catch my breath. And people watch.
Near the waiting area, four men stood in a circle, chatting and laughing. Over in a seat, an older man scribbled in a notebook. A few chairs away, a slim woman wearing glasses charged her phone. Across from her, a little girl played on a phone while her weary mother stared into space.
A young woman hurrying past caught my eye. Strapped to her chest was a baby, swaddled tightly. As I discreetly watched, the mother strode over to an airline agent. They talked briefly, then the young mother burst into tears. So did the baby.
“This airport is horrible!” she wailed. “What am I going to do?”
My heart sank as her cries turned into gut-wrenching sobs. She had missed her flight.
Tears streamed down her face, and fear shone in her eyes. “Oh, that poor, poor woman,” I thought.
Seconds later, the slender woman I’d noticed before leaped up from her chair, left her belongings behind and beelined for the mother. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around her in a fierce hug and held the young woman as she continued to cry. Then the woman cupped the mother’s face in her hands and looked into her eyes. “It’s going to be OK,” the woman said calmly. “It’s going to be O-K.”
Soon a second woman hurried up and embraced the mother too. Another woman appeared and put some bills in the mother’s hand. “This isn’t much, but it’s all I have,” she said. “I hope it helps.”
More and more women stepped up, each gifting their own salves of cash. It was if they were draping a communal blanket of love, warmth and protection.
Teary-eyed and deeply touched, I stood there, wanting to help, yet a little afraid and unsure of what to do. “You know what to do,” a small voice told me.
Digging into my purse, I pulled out a white bank envelope with one last $20 bill folded inside. I walked over to the mother and tucked my envelope into her hand, which by then clutched a fistful of bills. “Here,” I said, “you can use this envelope for your money.” I gave her a quick hug and then hurried to board my plane.
On the flight, I searched for the slender woman but couldn’t find her. To this day, I’ll always wish I could have thanked her for her brave act of compassion.
That morning in a busy airport, she empowered one young mother with hope. And she showed strangers like me how kindness can ripple out and impact the world in the best kind of way.
