On April 10, 2025, something special happened to me on an airplane. I was listening to a story through my headphones when I felt a tiny hand pull my sleeve. A little boy, about three or four years old, climbed into my lap. His eyes were red from crying, and he looked scared. He curled up like he felt safe with me and fell asleep. I didn’t know what to do, but I let him rest.
When the plane landed, I looked around for his parents, but no one came. I asked a woman nearby if she knew who he was with, and she thought I was his mom. The boy’s name was Finn, and he didn’t know where his parents were. The airport security helped, but still, no one came for him. I stayed with Finn to keep him company until someone showed up.
Finally, a woman and a man arrived, crying. They were Finn’s parents and hadn’t realized he was missing. I felt relieved but kept thinking about Finn afterward. I called a social worker to check on him and learned his parents couldn’t take care of him for now. Without thinking too much, I asked if I could take Finn into my home for a while. After some time and paperwork, Finn came to live with me.
It wasn’t always easy, but Finn and I became close. We had fun together, and I tried to make him feel safe. Six months later, his parents were ready to take him back. Saying goodbye was really hard. I told Finn I’d always care about him, no matter what.
This experience taught me something important. Sometimes, even a short moment—like helping a scared little boy on a plane—can make a big difference in someone’s life. Finn needed someone to be there for him, and I’m glad I was that person, even for a little while.
