First Flight

“Is it skeh-wee?” my three year-old son Jackson asked.

“What, sweetie?” I replied.

“Going in ‘da air,” he said.

“No. It’s not too scary.” I held his plump hand in mine as we rushed down the airport corridor. My heart was beating fast. We were running late due to heavy traffic on the freeway and our family of four had just hustled to get through security as fast as we could. “I’ll be with you the whole time,” I reassured him.

We were flying to visit relatives, and this was Jackson’s first time in an airplane. As we hurried to our gate, I tried to calm him—and myself--as much as possible with images of fluffy clouds and blue sky. I also sent a prayer heavenward: Lord, please let this flight be smooth. No big bumps or lurches.

The traffic delay caused us to be some of the last people to check in, and the airline we selected didn’t allow seat reservations; so we ended up boarding near the end of the pack. “Why are we in a big line, Mama?” Jackson asked.

“We’re just waiting our turn,” I answered.

My husband, Carey, held tight onto our boarding passes and I glanced toward him.

“We’re gonna make it!” he said as he steered our older son onto the plane. My shoulders relaxed as I followed behind, leading Jackson.

But once we crossed the threshold, Carey groaned. “No seats together,” he said.

I sighed. “Guess we have to split up.” Then I turned to Jackson and smiled encouragingly so he wouldn’t get more nervous than he already was. “You and I are going to sit together, sweetie!” I said.

Near the back of the plane, I found two seats next to a man in jeans, boots, and a work shirt. He had the window seat.

“Are these taken?” I asked. He shook his head and smiled slightly.

Jackson wanted to sit nearest the man so he could see the clouds. As we slid into our chairs, Jackson asked question after question about the seat belts, tray tables, and our fellow travelers. When he continued to comment loudly about his surroundings throughout the safety instructions, I apologized to our traveling companion. “He’s never flown before,” I said.

“It’s fine,” the man replied, chuckling. He asked Jackson about his tennis shoes, and I relaxed, relieved that we shared this leg of our journey with a friendly person who didn’t seem to mind my little boy’s prattle.

As the engines roared, Jackson grabbed my hand; when the plane began its noisy trip down the runway, he squeezed it and looked up at me with wide eyes.

“It’ll be fun,” I promised, praying silently. Our acquaintance tried to distract Jackson with a question about preschool.

And then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, Jackson reached out and took the man’s hand, grasping it as trustingly as he gripped my own.

I held my breath. What would happen next?

Without a word, the man smiled and turned his face toward the window. And he held Jackson’s hand until my son was ready to let go.

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Contest Update: "Do We Need to Be Here?" highlighted Brock Henning's story of meeting David Rupert and inspired us to ask readers to submit their own great stories of connection—best story wins a book. Our editorial team reviewed the submissions and celebrated every friendship. Strong contenders made it tough, but Lyla Lindquist's story of meeting Jennifer Dukes Lee (as published on Jennifer's site) was declared the winner of What Good is God? by Philip Yancey. Congratulations, Lyla!

Image by Claire Burge, used with permission via Flickr. Post by Dena Dyer, author of Let the Crow's Feet and Laugh Lines Come.