Girl on a Plane
On the airplane traveling home from Seattle (more on that next week!), I witnessed the most heartwarming reunion.
I’m one of those people on airplanes who immediately puts on headphones and buries my nose in a book. It’s not that I’m unfriendly, it’s just that flying is one of my favorite times to read. I play soothing music and can read a book uninterrupted for hours. It’s pure bliss.
This flight was no different. Of course, I observed the girl sitting next to me in the aisle seat: under 20, fashionable leggings, yogurt and granola snack from Starbucks. But we didn’t chat.
That is, until I heard the captain come on the overhead. I pulled my earbud out and closed my Kindle, mere minutes away from discovering whodunit in my Agatha Christie novel. The captain alerted us to the fact that we would be arriving at our destination in 20 minutes. But that’s *gasp* 22 minutes early. 22 minutes of precious reading time had been stolen from me!
The girl next to me said, “Wait, did he say we would be there in 20 minutes?”
She seemed as flustered as I was at this news. “Yeah, that’s what I heard.”
“Huh, I wonder if my ride will be there,” she said with a nervous laugh.
“Oh, I’m sure they will be. Once you get through baggage claim it’ll be on the dot.” It didn’t occur to me until I put my earbud back in and was mid-paragraph with Hercule Poirot that the girl might have her bags in the compartment overhead.
Regardless, she seemed fine to pursue whatever mobile app she was tinkering with and so I returned to my book.
A few minutes later, satisfied with knowing who killed poor Miss Emily Arundell, I switched off my music and gazed out the window. The plane had dipped below the clouds and there was a clear view of the ground, broken into square sectionals.
The girl next to me piped up. “So are you going home or going on vacation.”
“Going home,” I told her, and mentioned how I’d been in Seattle with my husband celebrating our anniversary over the last week.
“Congratulations,” she said.
I asked what she was doing in Colorado. “I’m seeing my best friend. I’m so nervous, this is the first time I’ve flown by myself.”
I was surprised. She seemed like a pro. I told her as much.
“But I’m only 14.” Safe to say, I no longer know how to gauge a teenager’s age.
Now aware that she was a nervous flyer, I felt bad she got stuck next to such an antisocial, curmudgeonly passenger. I tried to make up for it. “So you’re seeing your best friend?”
“Yeah, and I’m so nervous.” She brought her palms to her face and shook her head. “I haven’t seen her for 2 years.”
That brought back memories. The nervous and self-conscious energy, naive to the ebb and flow of friendships. I smiled and repeated a piece of wisdom I’d heard. “With the best of friends, it seems like you start off right where you left off. As if no time has passed.”
She seemed apprehensive. I moved on, asking what activities her and her best friend would be doing during her stay. We chatted through the landing and, as we were getting ready to leave the plane, I wished her a nice visit with her friend.
Secretly, I planned on watching the reunion in baggage claim, where they’d agreed to meet. I mean, this girl was so sweet! I just had to make sure things worked out for her.
Turns out, I only needed to wait until we got off the plane. Her friend was waiting for her at the gate. I didn’t even know you could do that anymore!
I watched the two girls giggle as they hugged each other, tears shining in their eyes. The friend’s mom stood in the background, snapping pictures of the happy reunion.
I got a bit teary eyed myself. My airplane friend needn’t have been nervous at all. While I’m sure there will be conflict, realizations about how much has changed in their lives, in that moment both girls were blissfully happy.
What I’m reading: 1984 by George Orwell
What I’m listening to: Washed Out — Within and Without
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