Airport Angels

As we were trying to prepare for traveling to Estonia with Buster, I came across a comment in some book about traveling with babies.  Basically, the person suggested that if we had thought that international flights were a drag sans baby, we were in a for a rude surprise.  Previously, on international flights I would just get bored and tired of sitting in one place for so long.  This was not the case with traveling with Buster.  Having an active, eighteen pound, seven month old doing gymnastics sitting on my lap for a total of thirteen hours did not lend itself to boredom or immobility on my part.

All things considered, Buster did really well with the traveling part of our travels.  I did learn, however, that the minor irritations of airport delays can quickly become magnified when a tired baby is involved.  In the midst of two of these rapidly magnifying irritations, a delayed flight and an exceptionally long and slow customs process, we encountered two airport angels.  I know (at least I think I know) that they were not angels in the true theological sense, but, nonetheless, their sudden appearances in our lives felt small gifts from Heaven.

The first encounter was with a fellow passenger waiting on a delayed flight.  He was from Nigeria.  He noticed Buster, reached out his arms, and with a smile said "give him to me".  So we did.  Buster was suddenly face to face with this man.  And the two of them were smiling and laughing. He played with Buster for awhile commenting that Buster must be wondering "who is this black man holding me".  Then he handed him back and Buster looked over at him, smiled and made his friendliest spitting noise.

The second airport angel walked directly up to us while we were waiting in an eternal customs line.  She was seven years old.  She was from Toronto but was just returning from visiting her grandpa in Hong Kong.  She was traveling with her mom.  She loved babies.  Her name was Grace.  (This was all disclosed to us within about a minute's time).  All the while that she was telling us these things, Grace was also playing peek-a-boo with Buster.  She made silly faces at him and engaged him with enthusiasm and energy. Buster was thrilled.

We asked her if she liked flying on airplanes.  She said "no" because its boring after the first hour.  And, she explained, she didn't really like it when her ears hurt although she had learned how to blow air to relieve pressure.  It was at this point that this airport angel allowed her seven year old human nature to be revealed.  As she was trying to describe the process of ear pressure relief, her face looked a little perplexed and then she came up with this analogy:

"It's like your ears fart."

Oh, Grace.  Thank you.  That's just what we needed.  Really.  I think we survived the customs line riding on waves of laughter because of you.