Dear Kind Stranger,
When you willingly switched seats so a gentleman could sit closer to his family, you unexpectedly found yourself sitting across the aisle from us. Your long, dark hair cascading over your shoulder as you settled in with a book and a coffee, you created an organized little space that could rival any airline advertisement.
What you didn’t know at that moment was that you would soon be adjacent to a curious 15-month-old who loves to explore and observe the world around her but also struggles with the idea of being confined for an hour and a half. You probably weren’t prepared to witness two anxious parents, armed with an assortment of snacks, toys, and books (though clearly not enough), desperately trying to keep the peace while passing our little one back and forth, all while maintaining a hushed tone.
You encountered bursts of quiet play interrupted by moments of tears and wails—some shrieks reaching volumes typically reserved for a doctor’s office. Little did you know, your presence would have a profound effect on us that day.
You could have easily shot us a disapproving look with each cry. You might have given us a passive-aggressive glare, conveying your annoyance with our noisy predicament. You could have even asked the flight attendants to switch seats, or worse, complained about us.
Instead, you chose compassion. Your kind words, “I understand what you’re going through; I have two small boys,” created an instant connection between us. In that moment, you became our beacon of hope. When you added, “She’s doing great,” it nearly brought tears to my eyes. Those three simple words reminded me that not everyone is irritated by a crying child, and that maybe we were doing better than I feared. They showed me that perfection isn’t necessary, neither for us nor for our daughter.
As the flight came to an end and our confused little one let out more cries, you continued to smile at us, genuinely radiating compassion. You even engaged with her, making her giggle and bringing out her charming four-toothed grin, which gave us those precious moments of relief from the chaos.
Reflecting on your kindness, we left the plane with our heads held a bit higher. We felt less shame as we navigated the curious glances from fellow passengers. My “thank you” didn’t quite capture the depth of my gratitude for the comfort you provided. As we made our way down the jetway, juggling our daughter and bags, I turned to my husband and said, “Let’s always remember her kindness. The next time we see a parent struggling with a little one, let’s be sure to say, ‘I understand. I have a little one too. Your child is doing great.’”
Sincerely,
A Grateful Mom
If you’re interested in more insights on parenting and family dynamics, check out this enlightening blog post on Cervical Insemination. For those considering family planning, I recommend visiting Make A Mom for reliable at-home insemination kits, and MedlinePlus for valuable information on pregnancy and home insemination.
In summary, a moment of kindness can change everything. Let’s strive to be that understanding person for others, just as the woman on the plane was for us.
Leave a Reply