I watched a man help a woman identify which stop she needed as the DFW Skylink moved from terminal to terminal. The woman was Asian, 40ish, carrying two large bags. Not suitcases, but handled bags with handles tied to keep things in. It became clear to me that she did not speak much English and did not understand the numbers and letters on her boarding pass. The man pointed to the map on the side of the tram and said, “This is your stop.” I overheard him tell her the gate number.
She was getting off at my stop, so when the tram came to a halt, I asked the man, “What gate is she looking for?”
“B-39,” he replied.
“I’ll get her there.” He gave me a grateful smile as this was not his stop. I nodded to the woman and indicated with an “after me” gesture that she should follow me. She did.
I pointed to each sign along the way from tram to escalator and then to the long corridor that led to her gate. Along the way she gave me her boarding pass showing a flight to College Station. I assume she had a son or daughter enrolled in A&M. She showed some concern that we were going the wrong way. She pointed to the number “4” listed under “Gate.” The boarding time of 4:15 was off center, and the 4 was partially in the box for the gate number. I tried to explain but she said, “I don’t speak English much.”
We trudged on to the last gate at the end of a long corridor. I pointed and said, “College Station.” She smiled and walked toward the desk. I turned to go back to my gate when she asked, “You, here?” I pointed in the opposite direction and said, “Not here.”
She put her hands together and bowed her head. I did the same. When I got a few gates away, I took a deep breath, and what I thought would be a warm feeling of, “What a nice thing I did,” suddenly became tears. My simple act was nothing compared to the courage of that woman. I was a bit player in her incredible drama of coming from who knows where to visit her child in college.
I went to a work station to check my phone and begin writing this piece. At 4:15 I realized it was her boarding time. I packed up my computer and headed for her gate. When I got there, everyone was already on board and only an attendant was at the desk, a young Asian woman. She asked if I was on this flight, and I responded, “No, but I wanted to make sure an Asian woman with two bags who speaks little English made it on board.”
“She’s on board. She’s one of my people. I’ll take care of her.”
I thanked her and went on my way.
We are all in this together, and things go better when we do whatever part is presented to us.
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