As I ran through the airport, trying to make my connecting flight, my mind raced, and I wondered if I would make it to my gate in time. And as I descended the escalator into a long, dark hall of closed airline gates, I got my answer. I had most definitely missed my connection. I walked into the dimly lit waiting area and looked up and down the large hall.
Everything was closed up and there were no passengers or airline personnel anywhere. I began to realize, I was not going to make it home tonight. It was already 7pm and I had missed my flight. At that moment, everything hit me – the painful grief of recently losing my son-in-law after a 14-year-battle with cancer, the weariness of hours of travel and several nights away from my own bed, concern for my elderly father, whom I care for and the fear of being abandoned in the Dallas Airport, a city where I had never been before and didn’t know a soul.
I collapsed into a chair in the abandoned waiting area and started sobbing. Within a couple of minutes, I felt a strong, warm hand on my back and a man sat down next to me and whispered, “Is there anything I can do for you?” Feeling frightened, overwhelmed and all alone, I couldn’t answer. Instead, I leaned my head into the crook of the stranger’s arm and cried.
When my sobs had subsided, he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and dried my tears. I told him my name was Kim and that I had been traveling due to a death in my family and I was trying to get home to my elderly father, but had missed my flight. He said his name was Stan and in a gentle voice he told me not to worry, to wait where I was, and that he would be back.
Stan came back ten minutes later with an airline agent who explained I had to go to the next terminal to try and get on another flight. “Another terminal?” I asked weakly through tear-soaked eyes. Stan jumped in and said “No worries, Kim. I’ll take care of it.” Then Stan asked the airline agent to call a Sky Cab to take me to the next terminal. As we waited for the Sky Cab to arrive I noticed that Stan was wearing a Hawaiin shirt and I asked him if he was on vacation. He gave me a wide grin and said, “No, I travel for work and I dress as a tourist for fun.” He went on to say that he flies four days a week for work and was getting burned out, so he decided to start treating each work assignment as a little vacation and he strives to find joy in every trip. “Life is short. We’ve got to make the best of every day we’re given,” Stan said with a kind smile.
When the Sky Cab arrived, Stan gave the driver a twenty-dollar bill and explained what gate and terminal I needed to be delivered to. He told the driver, “This is my friend, Kim. She’s had a hard day. Please take good care of her.” As Stan helped me up into my seat, I turned to him with tears in my eyes and with a tired, cracked voice I said, “Thank you, Stan.” “The pleasure was all mine,” he replied with a wink. And we waved goodbye to each other as the Sky Cab jetted away.
I made it to the next terminal and just barely caught the last flight home that night. As I finally crawled into my own bed, in the wee hours of the morning, I thanked God for Stan and his kind spirit that had shined a light on me during one of the darkest moments of my life. Stan, if you happen to read this – I will do my best to be like you and pay your kindness forward. Thank you, Stan, my angel in a Hawaiin shirt.