I was seated next to a woman who kept rocking back and forth, leaning her head down between her legs, and making whispered statements throughout the entire flight. It wasn’t until the end that I heard what she was saying — and it completely changed how I saw her. At first, I was uneasy.

She seemed nervous, her hands clenched tightly together. I assumed she had a fear of flying, something many people struggle with. I tried to offer her a reassuring smile, but she didn’t seem to notice.

As the flight went on, I caught bits and pieces of her whispers but couldn’t make out the words. Turbulence hit halfway through, and she began rocking faster, her voice trembling. My initial discomfort shifted to concern.

I asked gently, “Are you okay? Do you need help?” She lifted her head slightly, her eyes filled with tears. “I’m trying to stay calm,” she whispered.

“This is my first flight… and I’m going to meet my son for the very first time. He’s three years old. I’ve been saving for years to bring him home.”

My heart sank.

What I thought was fear turned out to be overwhelming emotion. She explained that she had been working overseas, separated from her little boy, and this journey was the final step in reuniting with him. The whispered words I couldn’t understand were her way of practicing what she would say when she finally held him again.