I
t had been another long week of conducting training sessions throughout the country. I generally like to relax on the flight home, do some easy reading, maybe even close my eyes for a few minutes. I try to be open to whatever does happen, though.
On this particular day, I boarded the plane and noticed a young boy, around eight years old, sitting next to me. I love kids. However, I was tired. My first instinct was, Oh boy, I’m not sure about this. Trying my best to be friendly, I said “Hello” and introduced myself. He told me his name was Bradley. We struck up a conversation and, within minutes, he took me into his confidence, saying, “This is the first time I have ever been on a plane. I’m a little bit nervous.”
He told me that he and his family had driven to see his cousins, and that he got to stay longer after his family had returned home. Now he was flying home, all by himself.
“Flying is a piece of cake,” I tried to reassure him. “It is one of the easiest things you’ll ever do.” I paused, thinking for a moment, and then asked him, “Have you ever been on a roller coaster?”
“I love roller coasters.”
“Do you ride them without hands?”
“Oh, yeah, I love to.” He giggled. I acted as if I were horrified.
“Do you ever ride in the front?” I asked with a pretense of fear on my face.
“Yeah, I try to get in the front seat every time!”
“And you’re not afraid of that?”
He shook his head no, clearly sensing that he was now one up on me.
“Well, this flight will be nothing compared to that. I won’t even ride roller coasters, and I’m not the least bit afraid to fly.”
A lovely smile edged its way onto his face, “Is that right?” - I could see that he was starting to think that maybe he was brave after all.
The plane began to taxi down the runway. As we ascended, he looked out the window and began describing with great excitement everything he was experiencing. He commented on the cloud formations, and the pictures they seemed to paint in the sky. “This cloud looks like a butterfly, and that one looks like a horse!”
Suddenly, I saw this flight through the eyes of an eight-year-old boy. It was as if it were the first time that I had ever flown. Later Bradley asked me what I did for a living. I told him about the training that I conduct and mentioned that I also do radio and television commercials.
His eyes lit up. “My sister and I did a television commercial once.”
“You did? What was that like for you?”
He said that it was very exciting for them. Then he told me that he needed to go to the bathroom.
I stood up to let him out into the aisle. It was then that I noticed the braces on his legs. Bradley slowly made his way down to the bathroom and back. When he sat back down, he explained, “I have muscular dystrophy. My sister has it too - she’s in a wheelchair now. That’s why we did that commercial. We were poster children for muscular dystrophy.”
As we began our descent, he looked over, smiled, and spoke in a hushed, almost embarrassed voice, “You know, I was really worried about who would sit next to me on the plane. I was afraid it would be someone crabby who didn’t want to talk with me. I’m so glad I sat next to you.”
Thinking about the whole experience later that night, I was reminded of the value of being open to the moment. A week that began with me being the trainer ended with me being the student. Now when times get rough - and they inevitably do - I look out the window and try to see what images the clouds are painting in the sky. And I remember Bradley, the beautiful child who taught me that lesson.
- Joyce A. Harvey