The Cutest Passenger

I was boarding my flight to Dallas when I noticed a man by the plane door battling with a stroller. I felt sorry for him as the stroller seemed to be beating him in this parent-stroller showdown, and then I saw her standing next to him. She was the cutest little girl! I admired her dark hair and cherub face, her bright eyes and placid demeanor. It evoked a warm and fuzzy feeling indeed to lay eyes on such a sweet and beautiful child.

I slowly made my way to my row 11 aisle seat only to find it occupied by a young mother with a tiny infant in her arms. She asked me with pleading eyes if I would take the window seat next to her daughter who was coming, so I acquiesced and scooted in to the window. In a few minutes, here came the battling father that I had observed at the plane entrance with the lovely little girl in his arms. He sat her down next to me as her mother and I exchanged small talk. She was still as cute as ever, but suddenly it hit me that I would be corralled in my seat for the next 3 hours next to a two year old and a busy mother with an infant. I didn't really mind entertaining the little girl or tolerating a baby's wails, but my discomfort was in the change of plan. Air time is valuable time to write, read, think etc. and it looked like this little angel was going to change that plan for me. I recalculated and adapted to this new arrangement, but it jumped out at me how easy it is to admire something from a distance but how hard it can be to commit to it.

I am writing this from row 23 after exchanging seats with the father of the cutest passenger and I am back to Plan A, but I am still meditating on this lesson. It is one thing to admire, but it is another thing to pay the price.