It started with a crumpled note with a small amount of money in it and ended with an ongoing relationship that continues to this day.
I didn’t have any particular expectations for this flight.
It was just another homecoming to visit my grandparents, one of many flights I’ve taken over the years.
My usual routine was the same as always: get on the plane, place my hand luggage, and settle in with a book or look at emails.
This time, however, something unusual happened that was to change my life forever.
As I entered the plane, arranged my hand luggage in the luggage rack and settled into my aisle seat, I noticed a little boy, about ten or eleven years old, sitting next to me.
At first I thought his parents, or possibly his mum, were somewhere nearby, maybe in the loo.
But as the plane started to roll down the runway, it became clear to me that he was alone.
His nervous movements and the way he was constantly looking around showed that he was uncomfortable and not used to flying.
I tried to mind my own business and gave him a small smile, but he quickly looked away and focused on the security card in the back of the seat in front of him.
I figured he was shy or perhaps overwhelmed from the experience, so I didn’t insist.
Shortly before takeoff, the boy, without addressing me, held out a crumpled piece of paper to me with a trembling hand.
I noticed it had a ten dollar note in it.
He refused eye contact and simply held out the note to me before I took it.
Puzzled, I unfolded the piece of paper and read the neatly written message.
The note said:
‘Please, if you are reading this, it means my son with autism is sitting next to you.
He may be nervous and ask several times how long until we land.
I am his mum waiting for him at home and I will pick him up at the airport.
Please be kind and patient. Here is $10 for your patience.
Here’s my number if he needs anything.’
I had a lump stuck in my throat when I finished reading it.
I looked at the boy, who was now staring intently at the seat in front of him, his small hands clenched into fists.
The ten dollar note felt heavy in my hand, a symbol of the trust his mother had placed in me to take care of her son during the flight.
I quickly pulled out my phone, connected to the Wi-Fi on board and wrote the number on the note, ‘Hi, my name is Derek.
I’m sitting next to your son on the plane.
He’s fine, but I wanted to let you know I’m here if he needs anything.’
The reply came almost immediately, ‘Thank you, Derek.
He’s had a rough few days, but I know he’ll be better with you.
Please tell him I’m thinking of him.’
I turned to the boy and said quietly: ‘Hi mate, your mum says hello to you.
She’s thinking of you.’
He looked at me for a moment, his expression softening slightly before he directed his gaze out the window again.
Although he wasn’t inclined to talk, I was determined to make this flight as pleasant as possible for him.
‘Do you like aeroplanes?’ – I asked, hoping to strike up a conversation.
He nodded slightly, but still wouldn’t look me in the eye.
‘Me too,’ I said, leaning back in my chair.
‘Flying in a big metal butterfly in the sky is great.’
Although he didn’t respond with words, I noticed the tension in his shoulders had eased a little.
Inspired, I decided to do more.
I beckoned to the stewardess and used the ten dollars the boy had given me.
‘Is it possible for my friend here to order an appetiser?’ – I asked with a smile.
The boy gave me a surprised look as I handed him a bag of pretzels and lemonade.
‘Here you go,’ I said and handed him the items.
‘Thought you might be hungry.’
He hesitated for a moment before taking the snack and muttering quietly, ‘Thank you.’
It was the first time he had spoken since we got on the plane, and I took it as a small victory.
Throughout the flight, I kept trying to communicate with him, answering his questions about when the flight would end or if we would be flying over interesting places.
I tried to speak in a calm and soothing manner because I felt it helped reduce his nervousness.
One day I decided to take a short selfie with him to send to his mother as a calming gesture.
Before taking the picture, I asked if it would be uncomfortable for him.
To my surprise, he leaned in closer to get in the shot.
After I took the photo, I showed it to him and he smiled for the first time – a small, shy smile, but a smile nonetheless.
Being someone with little experience with children, I thought this was an important moment.
‘Can I send this to your mum?’ – I asked, feeling a little braver.
He nodded and I sent the photo with a short message:
‘He’s fine. We’re having a good time.’
His reply came almost immediately and was full of gratitude.
I realised how relieved she was.