Spill of Grace
An unexpected kindness left a lasting impression
Spread the Ripple February prompt: “Gifts” Have you received a gift or given a gift to a stranger?
One of the best gifts I ever received came from a stranger on an airplane.
When I was in second grade, my family moved to Washington State from southern California. To leave behind traffic, congestion, and crime (according to my parents). To leave behind the sunshine, my friends, and my Godmother (me).
My Godmother lived in Thousand Oaks, just south of Los Angeles. Her home felt like a paradise: it had a pool.
For a week I would splash and swim, dive and float. Jump out for a quick snack. Sneak a sip from her enticing pink Tab when I thought she wasn’t looking.
Lather, rinse, repeat.
When we moved to Washington, the easy drive south disappeared. I am grateful my parents deemed these visits non-negotiable. I started to fly. On my own.
The airlines did, and still do, a great job of tending to the small ones. Escorted to the gate by my parents, plopped in the front row of the plane, and attended to by a flight attendant. He or she would escort me off the plane and into the arms of my loved one when we arrived.
A gloriously safe adventure for this rule-follower.
Most of these flights blur together now, the details of each muddled and lost.
Save one.
One early morning flight, snuggled into the window seat with my books and stuffed animals, I watched as a businessman joined the aisle seat in my row.
He engaged me in conversation, early and often. I remember a soft brown jacket and a receding hairline. Maybe a mustache. The rustle of a newspaper as he set it aside.
When the drink cart came by, I opted for orange juice. After two sips, I spilled it.
Everywhere.
My cup overturned. The juice splashed the seat back and splattered my jeans.
I froze, embarrassed by my clumsiness. On an airplane.
Scared of upsetting this stranger, not sure of his reaction.
Growing up, most of the adults in my life treated spills as a Big Deal.
Making a mess! Staining the carpet! Soaking the tablecloth!
Not this man.
This man, this stranger, looked up from his coffee and paper.
He nodded and smiled. He handed me his napkin and signaled the flight attendant.
She wasn’t upset either. She brought me some napkins and he helped me clean up the mess.
Oh, and it was a mess. The juice soaked the carpet. It might have stained it too.
Either way, this adult didn’t care.
For the first time, I saw it for what it was.
Just a spill.
Nothing else.
Not such a big deal, after all.
When I thanked him, he shrugged and said, “Accidents happen.” He returned to his paper. The flight attendant brought me another orange juice.
The spill brought the gift of kindness. He smiled and helped me clean it up.
The gift of recognition. A spill is, after all, only a spill.
It also brought the gift of choice. We can choose to make very small things a very big deal.
Or not.
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