Random Acts

I love reading stories about random acts of kindness and people who do genuinely nice things simply because their heart is in the right place. On a recent flight from Atlanta, Georgia to my home in Florida, I experienced such an act.

It had been a long day of traveling with my 2 year old son. He had been staying with my parents so that I was able to go on a 2 week long cross country road trip with my two very best girl friends (and that’s a whole ‘nother story in itself!) We’d been gone from Husband and Dad for three weeks and all we wanted was to be home with him. After a fairly uneventful first leg from North Carolina to Atlanta, Ben and I found ourselves with under 20 minutes to make our connecting flight—at a terminal 2 concourses and a shuttle away in one of the biggest International airports in the country.

It was something out of a movie: here I am, a bedraggled and emotional twenty something with a toddler, a carry-on, and a car seat, lumbering though Terminal A as I hear our names being called over the loud speaker.

“This is a passenger page. Will Emily Smith please report to Gate A13 for flight 1213 with service to VPS, Florida. The gates will close in THREE minutes.”

By some glorious act of God, I made it to the gate. They practically hit me in the ass with the door, but I made it. Every single eye on that plane was upon me as I trekked back to row 38. Honestly, of all days for a flight in Atlanta to actually be on time. 

We made it to our row and found ourselves seated next to a lovely lady with perfectly coifed hair and immaculate clothes, the spitting image of Sofia Vergara. As Ben was traveling on my lap, the quarters were tight. I was so thankful that she was nice. “Sofia” explained to me that she had two kids at home, aged 14 and 17, and just loves babies. I sat back in our tiny seat and breathed a sigh of relief, both because we made it, and because I wasn’t seated next to someone who was going to judge me for bringing a young child on a plane.

Ben occupied himself by opening and closing the window shade. Repeatedly. I’ll admit, it got a little old, but seriously? When you have kids, you learn to not care what keeps them occupied as long as they’re not A)in imminent danger, or B)causing anyone else any physical harm. Whatever keeps them quiet, am I right? I thought quietly to myself that the other passengers must be thankful he’s not screaming.

Well, apparently not.

I noticed the woman seated in front of me had paged the flight attendant. She was requesting a different seat. Her son commented that they were unhappy with the child that was “banging around behind them.” The woman declined the move after she learned the only seat available was a middle seat a few rows back.

“Sofia” helped me distract Ben from the window by graciously offering her House Beautiful magazine and a few highlighters so that he could color. She then let him riffle through her Prada purse looking for more pens.

“I used to travel with my kids when they were very young,” she said. “I was a single Mom and had to travel to keep my job. I remember people not understanding what it was like and being unfriendly towards me. I’ll do whatever I can to help you because this really takes me back.”

Hopefully, she understands how thankful I was to her. Well, halfway through our 45 minute flight, I see this overly-styled pixie haircut and big, saucer like eyes peer up from the headrest in front of me. Apparently, Lady In Front had something to say.

“Do you think you could get your kid to stop kicking my seat?” she said, contempt dripping from her words.

I tried to be polite in saying to her that he was only 2… and wasn’t even moving. She actually rolled her eyes at me, a turned around in a huff.

Not even 5 minutes later, she fully reclined her seat straight into Ben’s head. I can’t make stuff like this up. Honestly, I cracked a smile and started to laugh. Sofia, on the other head, looked at me with eyes full of horror.

“I can’t believe some people,” she said. “This is a 45 minute flight… it’s so short that there’s not even a beverage service. Can she honestly not sit still for twenty more minutes?

“You know what,” she continued. “I’m going to take that empty seat in the back.”

I tried to protest, saying she really didn’t have to do that. The flight was half over already.

“No, I’m absolutely going to take it,” she said. “I remember what it’s like to travel with young kids. Some people are too ugly to care about others.”

The Lady In Front heard this comment and turned around and started to say something. Sofia simply looked at her and shrugged her shoulders with a look on her face that said, “What?… you are.”  

She moved seats, giving me and Ben the row all to ourselves. He enjoyed getting to sit in his own seat and color with the tray table in his lap. I was overwhelmed by how nice Sofia had been, how she had given up her aisle seat to go slum it in the middle. Lady In Front had her seat reclined until the last second possible, obviously enjoying her extra four inches of space.

When we landed and began to deplane, she never once looked back at me. I very briefly contemplated saying something to her, letting her know that not everyone travels for pleasure. What if I had been on my way or returning from a funeral or something terrible like that? Having to worry about HER feelings would have been last on my list. Perhaps she should be a little more understanding.

But, I didn’t. Ethics are lost on some people.

She yammered away on her Bluetooth while we waited to go to baggage claim, driving home the point that her needs were obviously much more important than everyone else’s.

Sofia and I ended up walking through the terminal together. Ben held her hand the whole time.

It’s been almost a month since this incident, and I’m still touched by her kindness. She did not have to give up her seat like that. I made the choice to travel with a toddler in my lap, so it was my responsibility to handle other passengers. I wasn’t kidding myself, either. I know people want to cry when they see babies on planes… that fact is not lost on me. I just figured that people would see me trying and at least cut me a break.

Sofia was the one that cut me a break. Her understanding is something that will stay with me. I can only hope to someday pay it forward in a way that does her justice. I only wish I knew her real name so I could thank her properly. Maybe she’ll find this one day. J