Flying the Friendly Skies

I stepped onto the plane and reaching the fourth row of seats, on my left is an older woman. She is sitting in the aisle seat, and we make eye contact. “This seat is open”, she says as she motions to the middle seat. I took a quick glance down the aisle and up into the overhead luggage compartment to see if there was room for my carry on bag.  I decide to accept her invitation to sit beside her. As I settled into my seat, placing the seat-belt over my lap, clicking the belt closed, we smiled at one another and shared a few words. I asked where she was flying to. New York was her answer, I was flying to Houston, Texas. We would both change planes in Phoenix.

Sacramento Airport

On the other side of me was another woman, younger than myself by probably 15 or 20 years. She was on her phone saying her good byes and “I love you” to the person on the other end.
Some months back another trip to Houston afforded me the opportunity to sit next to a gentleman who was rather large. He took up more than his allotted seat space and encroached into my little area on the plane. It was somewhat annoying to me, I am ashamed to admit. He was quiet, did not say a word and did not make eye contact as he sat down in the middle seat. I was seated next to the window.
We were flying mates for several hours and he maintained his silence. I was busy with a magazine that I had purchased at the airport news stand. A book in my bag also gave me something to do once the magazine was read and by this time I had tucked my magazine away, moving on to other things. We had about 45 minutes remaining in our flight and I noticed that the man had been very fidgety. He would sigh, put his head in his hands, lay his head back with his eyes closed, then lean forward, his head back in his hands. He seemed miserable and bored.

A little voice in my head kept saying, “offer him your magazine to read”. I argued with myself saying this was a woman’s magazine; there was probably nothing in there that this man would want to look at. “Offer him the magazine”, were the words that kept nagging at me. “He is unfriendly, doesn’t want to be disturbed, don’t invade his space”, the excuses to myself continue. No matter what my argument was, the voice persisted, “offer him your magazine”.

Finally, I reached into my bag and pulled out my Ladies’ Home Journal magazine.

With a smile and looking over at my flying partner I made the offer. “Would you like to look at this magazine? I’m done reading it”. He glanced at the magazine cover, smiled at me and shook his head “no”. He said, “no thank you, I’m fine”. I replied, “yes, there probably isn’t much here of interest for a man but you are welcome to it. Flying can get boring”.

That began a conversation that lasted until we landed at the Houston airport.
He shared with me that he was coming back from a funeral in California for his sister. They, along with his wife, had been at a bowling tournament in Nevada. They had a great time but one morning while there, his sister was found dead in her hotel room. She had not had any health problems so her death was very shocking for them. She had died of natural causes. He was returning home from her funeral before going back to Southern California to settle her estate.

I found I could say little except that I was sorry for his loss and how difficult it must be for him. He said, “You probably noticed my eyes filling with tears at times during the flight. This is just so hard”. Compassion for this man and his struggle to understand the reasons for his sister’s early death poured out of me. I wanted to weep with him but instead listened as his sorrow poured out of his heart. I, a stranger, there to listen and hopefully in some way the telling would aid in the healing process.

I felt ashamed at my earlier thoughts. Ones of selfishness and judgment of someone I did not know. I vowed to never do that again.

So, this trip proved to be another time of encouragement. This time it was two women, living in different states, hundreds of miles apart, yet both in the middle of their own sorrows.

Houston, Texas

Here we were, three women of different ages, all at different stages of life and at different stages of healing from divorce. I even found it interesting that we were sitting in order of our age. Silly observance, really.

The woman on my left was in the separation stage. She had left an abusive marriage of 32 years and her husband was trying to take any and all money that she had left. He had spent his on young woman and an irresponsible lifestyle. After living in an empty apartment and sleeping on the floor for four months, she now had a decent place to live and was trying to pull her life together. Here was a woman who appeared to be in her late 60’s and had health problems.
On my right was a younger woman, divorced for about 3 years and dating someone who seemed to be taking advantage of her sweet nature.Once again, I tried to encourage them when actually they encouraged me. As I shared some words of what I hoped would be encouraging with the younger woman, tears filled her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. I knew that those words touched a very tender part of her heart that was still very raw and I wanted to give her a hug and tell her how lovely she was. That one day she would be loved and cherished. My heart hurt for her. We exchanged email addresses and she promised to call me in December when she was in my area again to visit her mother.
Because I fly often now, I have begun to pray before boarding a plane that God would put me where he wants me. I have had a couple of other opportunities to sit next to either someone who was just fun and very interesting, to a woman who was of great encouragement to me.
There is a world that is hurting. I sometimes will sit in an airport, waiting for my flight to board and look around at all the people. Mother’s with small children trying to keep them entertained or looking exhausted from an earlier flight. Elderly people in wheel chairs unable to walk the distance to board a plane, children excited to be flying to an anticipated destination. Teenagers in pajama bottoms who carry bed pillows and sleep as soon as they find their seat on the plane. There are always business people returning home or going to their place of business, and then there are people like me, traveling to see a loved one. I look at them all and know that each one has a story, a pain or a hope and I wonder what it might be. Do they have a family, people who love and support them? Someone to say “good job”, “good try”, “I love you” or just offer a hug?

Sunrise

In a society where we are all so busy I would hope that we could all slow down, take a deep breath and look around. That we would be willing and sensitive to those in need and to listen and encourage. Your smile or compliment might be just what that person needs for that day. For in so doing, we might not only be a blessing to that person, but they may also be one to us. Give it a try, it really works and you may just make a new friend.