stranger
We were travelling home from Grand Rapids, Michigan after a major snow storm. Annie was seven months old, and we had been with Grandma D and the Petersons for Christmas. We arrived in Toronto and thought we were going to make it home without a glitch. We boarded our connecting flight, but then we were told the windshield of the plane was cracked. From there, everything changed. The airport was filled with people trying to get on planes, and there didn't seem to be answers for anyone. We found ourselves in a draw to catch another plane and our names were called, but then we sat on the plane for hours. The pilot never made it. We ended up in a line waiting to see if we could get a hotel from the airline. A stranger ahead of us noticed our baby and gave us his number so that we could move farther up the line.
We moved along in the line and when we were about four away from the counter, the airline said there were no more rooms and started handing out blankets. We went back out into the corridor to start looking for a place to sit for the night. At this time, we still did not have a flight to get home to Moncton. A staff person from the Toronto airport, a stranger, saw us. He invited us into a conference room where they had food, and even diapers, for families with little ones. It was a large room with a kitchenette and a washroom. Jim and I were able to take turns sleeping on the floor in a safer place with some comforts from home.
It is two of the most loving things ever done for me by a stranger.
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