How many times do you sit down on a plane, or in a
restaurant, or stand in a line or an elevator with a complete stranger. You probably don’t strike up a conversation,
because who does that anymore? There are
emails to read, posts to like, blogs to follow, games to play and mindless entertainment
at our fingertips.
Last week flying from Fargo to Chicago, I was ecstatic to
see that the seat next to mine, 1A, was open.
Then, 3 minutes before the door closed, in walked a pilot looking to
dead-head to Chicago. Through a three
minute conversation, we came to understand we were neighbors growing up, separated
by 6 miles and about 15 years. We talked
about airline inventory and pricing, Icelandic cooking, funny names like Amma
and Afi and how proud we are of our heritage and where we grew up. He was a stranger no more.
Also last week, I sat across a dinner table from a stranger,
a woman who came to Fargo to meet her biological son she had given up in adoption
years ago. He is the adopted son of a
dear friend of mine. She shared the
amazing story of how she selected the perfect family for her son. She shared how it felt to spend those last
few hours with her child before giving him up forever. She shared how, while knowing it would be
hard, it was the best decision for everyone.
She shared how not being able to hear his voice weighed heavily on her
heart for years. She told us about
getting on the plane and sobbing, thinking, “What am I doing? Can I handle this?” She was a stranger on a plane.
Then, magically after agreeing to get on that plane and
travel to Fargo, ND, and, after seeing her amazing 8 year old son, hugging him
and watching him hit an out of the park home run at his baseball game, she was
at peace. If someone, anyone had listened to her story,
they would have been able to share in this fabulous moment with her. To her son, his family, and our family of
families, she is a stranger no more.
I was blessed by strangers twice last week and in those
blessings, I keep going.
No comments:
Post a Comment