You must have followed me around the food court for quite a while. I wasn’t thinking clearly. Our first flight had been delayed and now our second flight was delayed. I was tired. I was worried about my boy.
I wandered from restaurant to restaurant trying to figure out what food my boy might want; what food his little tummy could handle. I ended up down the hall, far away from my husband and my son.
I’d left them in a corner while I looked for food. My boy in a wheelchair, a scar on his head, curled up with his blanket. My husband, giving our boy pain medication.
I tried to hand the cashier my credit card to pay for the food. She tried to hand me cash. I was confused. I looked around to see who still needed her change. The cashier kept trying to put the money into my hand. I asked her what it was.
She said it was my change; that the woman in the red shirt had paid for my food and told her to give me the change.
“What? Wha…?” My voice trembled. Tears came to my eyes. I shook my head over and over as the reality of a stranger’s kindness caught in my throat.
I looked around, desperately looking for you and your red shirt.
I hope you saw me searching for you. I hope you felt the fullness in my heart.
To the woman in the red shirt…Thank you. Thank you for feeling. Thank you for noticing. Thank you for touching my heart though we’ve never met.