Today I met someone whose joy reminded me of the beauty in life’s simplest experiences. His name is Todd. He is 46 years old, but within minutes of meeting him, it was clear that his heart held the excitement of a child seeing the world for the very first time.
Todd was traveling to Florida to see his brother and some special doctors. It was his first time on an airplane. He had to be carried onto the plane by the crew, and though his face lit up with anticipation, there was nervousness in his voice.
Almost immediately, he announced, loud enough for everyone to hear, “I’ll probably throw up!” The passengers around us laughed, and the man seated between us quickly decided to move, leaving me with an open seat next to Todd. What seemed at first like a small inconvenience soon became one of the most meaningful encounters of my life.
From the moment Todd sat down, he was restless with both nerves and excitement. I introduced myself, and he relaxed a little, chatting openly about how he had never flown before, how he was both scared and thrilled. He asked questions with the sincerity of a child: “What happens if the plane goes too fast? Will we see the clouds up close? What if the wings get tired?”
As the engines roared to life, I could feel his hand grip the armrest tightly. I reassured him, helping him through takeoff. Then, as the plane lifted from the ground and began to climb into the sky, everything changed.
Todd’s eyes widened, and suddenly he burst into shouts of amazement. “OH WOW!! OH WOW!!” he cried again and again, his voice carrying over the hum of the engines. People nearby smiled, some even laughed softly, but it wasn’t mockery—it was the kind of laughter that comes when joy is so genuine it becomes contagious.
When we pierced the clouds and the world below disappeared, Todd was in awe. “I’ve only seen an airplane on TV,” he said, staring out the window with his mouth open. “I never thought I’d actually be inside one.” The wonder in his voice made me stop and think—how many times had I flown without ever pausing to appreciate it?
The flight attendants came by, offering drinks. When one of them handed Todd a Coke and told him it was free, his entire face lit up with joy. “FREE?!” he exclaimed. “I can’t wait to tell my friends! They’ll never believe this!” He sipped it slowly, savoring every drop as if it were the finest thing he’d ever had.
Throughout the flight, Todd continued to marvel at everything: the way the wings tilted, the sound of the landing gear, the feel of the air conditioning.
Every moment was a discovery. I found myself caught up in his excitement, seeing air travel not as a routine inconvenience, but as a miracle—something that defies gravity and connects us to the world in ways we often take for granted.
As we prepared to land, I helped Todd again, talking him through the bumps and the roar of the engines. He gripped my hand at first, but by the time the wheels touched down, he was smiling from ear to ear. “We did it!” he shouted. “That was the best thing I’ve ever done!”
Because I had the window seat and Todd needed help disembarking, we were among the last to leave the plane. I gathered my bag, ready to step into the aisle, when suddenly Todd’s voice rang out, loud and clear for all to hear:
“MS. SUE… I’LL NEVER FORGET YOU FOR HELPING ME! I’LL THINK ABOUT YOU THE REST OF MY LIFE AND TELL MY FRIENDS HOW NICE YOU ARE!”
The entire cabin grew quiet, then smiled, touched by the sincerity of his words.
My throat tightened, and I realized I had tears in my eyes. In helping him through a single flight, he had given me something far greater in return—a reminder of how much kindness matters, and how deeply it can be felt when it’s needed most.
Todd taught me that wonder still exists, that the ordinary can be extraordinary when seen through new eyes. He reminded me that a stranger’s kindness can become someone’s lifelong memory.
It wasn’t just his first flight. It was a lesson—for me, and maybe for everyone who witnessed it—that life is richest when we slow down enough to see the miracles right in front of us.
Be kind to others. Because even the smallest gesture—holding a hand, calming a fear, or simply being present—can leave an imprint that lasts a lifetime.
