Stella slowly reached her business-class seat. She was nervous but excited because this was her first time flying, and she was already 85 years old.
But the man beside her, Franklin Delaney, frowned. “I don’t want to sit next to that woman!” he almost shouted at the flight attendant.
“Sir, this is her seat. We can’t change that,” the stewardess said softly.
“That’s impossible. These seats are very expensive. She can’t afford one—just look at her clothes!” Franklin argued.
Stella looked down, embarrassed. She had worn her nicest outfit, even if it wasn’t fancy. Some passengers supported Franklin and asked her to move. Feeling small, Stella whispered, “Miss, it’s okay. If there’s a seat in economy, I’ll take it. I used all my savings for this seat, but I don’t want to bother anyone.”
But the stewardess shook her head. “No, ma’am. You paid for this seat, and you deserve to sit here, no matter what people say.”
Franklin finally stopped arguing, and Stella stayed in her seat.
After takeoff, Stella dropped her purse out of fear. Franklin helped pick up her things, and a ruby locket fell out. He whistled. “Wow, that’s impressive.”
“What do you mean?” Stella asked.
“I’m an antique jeweler. This locket is extremely valuable. Those rubies are real. Am I right?”
“I don’t know. My father gave it to my mother many years ago. She passed it on to me when he never came home,” Stella said.
“What happened?” Franklin asked.
“I’m sorry. My name is Franklin Delaney. I want to apologize for how I acted earlier. I’m dealing with some problems, but that’s no excuse. May I ask what happened to your father?”
“My father was a fighter pilot in World War II. When America joined the war, he left but gave this locket to my mother, promising he’d come back. They loved each other deeply. I was only four, but I still remember that day. He never returned.”
“That’s awful.”
“It is. War is pointless. Nothing good comes from it. My mother never recovered from losing him. We struggled financially, but she refused to sell the locket. When I was ten, she gave it to me and told me to keep it. I never sold it either, even when life was hard. Its true worth is the memory it holds.”
She opened the locket and showed two photos. “These are my parents. See how much they loved each other.”
Franklin nodded and pointed to another photo. “Is that your grandchild?”
“No, that’s my son — and he’s actually the reason I’m on this flight,” Stella said.
“You’re going to visit him?”
“No, this is the only way I can be near him,” she replied. “Remember how I said I had money problems? When I was in my 30s, I got pregnant. My boyfriend left, and I had no one to help me. My mother had already passed away from dementia. I loved my baby, but I couldn’t give him a good life, so I put him up for adoption.”
“You found each other later?” Franklin asked.
“I tried. I located him through a DNA website. A neighbor kid helped me send him an email. His name is Josh. He replied once and said he was fine and didn’t need me. I emailed him several more times asking for forgiveness, but he never answered again.”
“Then why are you on this flight if he doesn’t want to see you?”
“Because he’s the pilot. Today is his birthday — January 22, 1973. I’m getting old, and I don’t know how much time I have left. I just wanted to be close to him on at least one of his birthdays. This is the only way I can.”
Later, as the plane was about to land in New York, the pilot spoke on the intercom:
“And I’d like everyone to welcome my birth mother, who is flying with me for the first time. Hi, Mom. Please wait for me after we land.”
Stella’s eyes filled with tears. When the plane stopped, the pilot — her son, John — ran out of the cockpit to hug her. The passengers and crew clapped as they reunited.
John whispered that he was grateful for the sacrifice she made. Stella told him she had nothing to regret, and there was nothing to forgive.