Reflections From the Road

This past weekend, I had an unusually busy travel schedule. Within 24 hours, I crossed the country, landing and taking off from airports in three different states. At each destination, I had time to observe people—fellow travelers as well as the airline personnel who keep everything moving behind the scenes.

What did I see? I saw acts of kindness: strangers helping one another, travelers offering their seats, and people saying “please,” “thank you,” and “excuse me” with genuine warmth. I also saw the opposite—people unaware of those around them, stepping in front of others in line, stopping abruptly in crowded walkways, or blocking aisles while focused on their phones. Some retrieved their luggage with little regard for others, while others went out of their way to help a young mother traveling with small children.

I saw generosity and selfishness, patience and impatience, kindness and, at times, cruelty. It made me pause and ask: What drives kindness? And what gives rise to its opposite?

One moment stood out—a little boy, maybe two years old, overwhelmed by the crowds and chaos, was crying and shouting “No! No! No!” His mother calmly picked him up, held him close, and comforted him with quiet reassurance. Within minutes, he was calm and smiling. Such a simple act, but one that made all the difference in that moment.

What can we learn from moments like that? Do we respond to rudeness with more rudeness? Are we inconsiderate because others have failed to consider us? Do sharp words always demand a sharp response?

I understand both sides. I strive to be kind, but I know I have my moments. When I fall short, it often comes down to selfishness—wanting things to go my way, and letting frustration take over when they don’t.

This experience reminded me of the importance of being a good neighbor—not just at home, but everywhere we go. Airports are a microcosm of the world: a mix of cultures, languages, and people all on their way somewhere. What an incredible opportunity we have to show kindness, patience, and consideration—to be the kind of neighbor we’d want to have.

As my final flight landed in Denver, the flight attendant ended her final announcement with a heartfelt message: “Be safe, be kind, and welcome home.” Her sincerity was unmistakable—and her words struck a chord.

So let’s take that challenge seriously. Let’s be safe. Let’s be kind. Let’s be welcoming.

We can all do that.