security lane had taken its toll on her—all the repacking,
gathering, and patting down is often more than an occasional
passenger is ready to handle so early in the day. But because
she had nestled so close to me, especially when there was
ample space to sit or stand anywhere else, I asked, in a CPR-
ish kind of way, “Are you OK?”
“No,” she didn’t hesitate to reply.
For those of you who don’t know me personally, I’m made
for conversations like these. I love to talk to people, especially
strangers!
So I asked a follow-up question: “What’s wrong?”
“My father died yesterday, and I have to fly all the way from
California to Newark, New Jersey, by myself. I don’t think I can
do it. And I don’t want to be alone,” she blurted out.
I dropped my phone into my purse, looked her straight in the
eye, and asked, “What’s your name?”
She replied, “Diane.”
“Diane, you’re not alone,” I said firmly. I asked, “Do you
believe in God?” I must have been using my “outside” voice,
because in that moment, I saw one of the gate agents stop
chatting and glance my way. But I pressed on when she
nodded her head up and down, signaling a yes.
I said, “Diane, God will be with you on this plane. You’re
never alone.” Then I asked, “Can I pray for you?”
She looked almost relieved and truly grateful... until I put
my hand on her shoulder. She obviously wasn’t anticipating
that I would pray for her right then and there—in the boarding
lane of our gate. But it was too late at that point. I closed my
eyes to pray, but not before catching the glance of the second