I pushed my hand luggage down the center aisle counting my way to row sixteen. It was so quiet — you could hear a pin drop.
There may have been twenty passengers who had found their way into their seats as more of us made our way into the aircraft having been bussed to the plane. (This is what happens when you buy a last-minute bare-bones airline ticket).
The serenity was timely and unusual.
Once I placed my hand luggage in the overhead compartment, I sat in my aisle seat, 16D. Within seconds of reaching for my belt buckle, a five-foot elderly lady gradually approached my row as a flight attendant walked up from behind and stood right next to my seat.
“My seat is on sixteen,” the elderly woman said with some uncertainty.
“Yes, mam’, and which letter is it?” the flight attendant softly and politely asked her.
She placed her two bags on the seat in aisle fifteen and began to search for her boarding pass. I then rose from my seat and snuck myself into row fourteen to allow her sufficient room to sit while I too checked my boarding pass for accuracy.
She struggled to find hers. And yet — we all stood calmly and in complete stillness.
It was surreal.
I can’t recall the last time I was in an unhurried, exceptionally patient environment. We all need more of these.
The gentleman who was next in line awaiting to move past her to his seat stood in quiet composure as he too tenderly watched over her. She leisurely took out her sandwich and fruit which he held for her. The flight attendant smiled and held her belongings as she searched for the boarding pass; she eventually did and he noted her seat was 16E, the middle seat.
Her bags and cane were placed overhead and she was carefully helped to her seat. The much younger gentleman then moved on as I too found my way back to my seat.