"STELLA AND THE PILOT"
(author unknown)
Stella had just settled into her business class seat when a man nearby caused a scene. “I don’t want to sit next to that... woman!” Franklin Delaney nearly shouted at the flight attendant, gesturing towards Stella, an older woman who had just taken the seat beside him.
“Sir, this is her assigned seat, and we cannot change that,” the stewardess replied, maintaining her composure as Franklin stared disapprovingly at Stella’s modest clothing.
Though embarrassed, Stella remained quiet. She wore her best outfit, though simple, and it was all she could afford. Other passengers began watching, and some even seemed to agree with Franklin. The situation was becoming unbearable for Stella, so she finally spoke up.
“It’s alright,” she said gently, resting her hand on the stewardess’s arm. “If there’s a seat in economy, I’ll move. I saved everything for this ticket, but I don’t want to cause any trouble.”
At 85, Stella had never travelled before, and the airport experience at Seattle-Tacoma had been overwhelming. The airline had kindly assigned someone to guide her through the airport, and now she was finally on her way to New York.
Despite the tension, the stewardess was firm. “No, ma’am, you paid for this seat, and you deserve to stay here, no matter what anyone says,” she assured Stella. Turning to Franklin, she warned him that she would call airport security if he continued. Reluctantly, Franklin backed down, and Stella remained in her seat.
As the plane took off, Stella, overwhelmed by the experience, accidentally dropped her purse. To her surprise, Franklin bent down and helped her collect her belongings. As he handed her items back, he noticed a ruby locket and whistled softly.
“This is beautiful,” Franklin commented. “I’m an antique jeweller, and these rubies are genuine. This locket must be worth a lot.”
Stella smiled softly. “I wouldn’t know. My father gave it to my mother before he went off to war. She passed it to me after he never came home.”
Curious, Franklin introduced himself. “I’m Franklin Delaney, and I’m sorry for how I acted earlier. I’ve been going through some things and took it out on you. May I ask what happened to your father?”
Stella sighed. “He was a fighter pilot during World War II. He gave my mother this locket as a promise he would come back, but he never did. I was only four when he disappeared. My mother was never the same. She kept the locket as a reminder, and when I turned ten, she passed it to me. She never thought of selling it, even when times were tough. It’s priceless because of the memories it holds.”
She opened the locket, revealing two small photographs—one of her parents and the other of a baby. “These are my parents,” she said, her voice filled with emotion. “And this,” pointing to the baby’s photo, “is my son.”
“You’re going to see him?” Franklin asked.
“No,” Stella replied quietly. “I gave him up for adoption when he was a baby. I was alone and couldn’t provide for him the way he deserved. I’ve tried to reconnect recently and found him through a DNA test, but he told me he didn’t need me in his life. Today is his birthday, and I just wanted to be near him, even if I can’t be by his side.”
Franklin looked puzzled. “But if he doesn’t want to see you, why are you on this flight?”
Stella smiled softly. “He’s the pilot. It’s the only way I can be close to him on his birthday.”
Franklin was speechless. A few flight attendants and passengers who overheard the conversation were deeply moved. A stewardess slipped into the cockpit, and moments later, the pilot’s voice came over the intercom.
“In addition to our expected arrival at JFK, I’d like to give a special shout out to my birth mother, who is flying with us for the first time. Mom, please wait for me when we land.”
Stella’s eyes filled with tears as Franklin, ashamed of his earlier behaviour, smiled at her. When the plane landed, the pilot broke protocol and rushed out of the cockpit to embrace Stella in a long-awaited hug. Passengers and crew cheered as mother and son reunited.
As they hugged, her son, John, whispered, “Thank you for doing what was best for me all those years ago.” Overcome with emotion, Stella assured him that there was nothing to forgive and that she understood his silence.
From a distance, Franklin watched the reunion, grateful to have witnessed such a bittersweet moment and deeply regretful of his initial judgment. This was more than just a flight—it marked the beginning of something beautiful between Stella and her son.
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