The tickets were purchased and the car service was confirmed for the following morning. Our valises were packed and stood sentry at the front door. We tried to catch a few hours of sleep before our early morning departure.
The minivan had been ordered for 5:30 a.m. We had used this car service numerous times and were surprised when a small car arrived instead of a van. The car was not large enough to transport our family and luggage.
Our flight was scheduled to depart at 7:30 a.m. I am a stickler for punctuality. For some strange reason, I was unusually calm. I remained quiet, permitting my husband to decide our next course of action. I also told myself that Hashem was in charge, and that whatever He wanted to happen would happen.
My husband reordered the minivan and to our surprise and delight, we got the same driver that we had on a previous airport trip. He even remembered us. He told us that he would try his best to get us to the airport in time for our flight.
Again I repeated my little mantra, namely that Hashem was running the show and that I would leave the outcome in His hands.
As we got closer to the airport, the driver instructed me to jump out and run to the closest check-in counter with my ID and boarding passes. One of my boys accompanied me. I nervously looked over my shoulder awaiting the rest of my family. My other son was soon assisting the check-in person with the ID stickers that had to go on each piece of luggage.
I made a point of thanking the airport worker for his assistance.
All I said was “thank you.”
I did not expect the reaction that I received in return.
The gentleman looked at me in shock. He momentarily stopped processing our luggage (“Oh no, now what”? I thought), and suddenly he made a split-second decision.
“Follow me,” he said. We ran after him like a flock of ducklings. My feet could hardly keep up with him. He took us to the front of the line of passengers and told the security staff to process us. We thanked our savior profusely, and he returned to his station.
Our little adventure was not quite over. We still had to take a shuttle to the plane. Thankfully the bus was full, which meant that we were not the only latecomers.
I turned to my husband and remarked that I was certain that just by saying the magic words “thank you,” our successful flight was assured – with Hashem’s help.
Hakaras hatov (appreciation) only takes a moment, but the dividends are immeasurable!