Taking Flight (Delights Series)

There’s something deeply humbling about watching a child experience magic for the first time.

If I had to guess, I would say Emmy was 8 years old the day I met her. I’m using the word met loosely here. I was sitting in a window seat on a flight to New York City (another delight). Emmy was in the middle seat aglow with anticipation, and her father (an assumption on my part) was seated in the aisle seat next to her. Other than confirming when I asked if this was her first time to fly, we barely spoke.

When her tiny hands gripped the armrests during takeoff, it wasn’t out of fear. Every fiber of her being was excited about the potential of what was happening. “We’re flying,” she whispered shortly after as though it was a secret she had been patiently waiting to share with no one and with everyone. 

I spent much of the flight pressed into the back of my seat to give her a better view out the window. “We’re above the clouds.” Again, she spoke in a whisper, not to me. Not really to anyone. Just in awe of what was happening. 

The man seated next to her kept urging her to not bother me. He had no idea how much I was enjoying seeing her delight. Everything about that flight fascinated her.

I watched a child discover something that day. I wish I could have been privy to the narration going on in her head. She wasn’t just seeing the world from a new height. Emmy was seeing it from a new heart. 

We all need moments like that from time to time, moments that make us aware of the miracles around us. Thank you, Emmy, for reminding me of what it means to fly.