“You Look Tired, Sir,” Said the Little Girl on the Plane—The CEO Didn’t Expect That She’d Change…
The Unexpected Passenger on Flight 437
The first class cabin of flight 437 was everything money could buy. Spacious leather seats reclined into beds and ambient lighting mimicked sunset.
Attentive flight attendants anticipated every need before it was voiced. It was a cocoon of luxury 35,000 ft above the earth designed to make wealthy travelers forget they were hurtling through the sky in a metal tube.
Christopher Hayes settled into his seat by the window and immediately pulled out his laptop. He was 37 years old with dark brown hair styled precisely back from his face.
He wore a tailored gray suit that probably cost more than most people spent on rent. As CEO of Hayes Capital Management, Christopher was used to luxury and efficiency.
He was used to every moment being productive and every interaction being transactional. He had a presentation to refine for tomorrow’s board meeting in San Francisco.
Numbers were to be reviewed and projections were to be analyzed. His assistant had booked him on the red eye specifically so he could work without interruption.
Christopher intended to use every minute of the 6-hour flight productively. He was already deep into spreadsheets when he became aware of movement in the aisle beside him.
A flight attendant was helping a small child settle into the seat next to his. Christopher’s jaw tightened slightly.
He’d paid for first class specifically to avoid crying babies and restless children. This was supposed to be his workspace.
The little girl was maybe four or five years old with reddish blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. She wore a pink dress with a green backpack that looked nearly as big as she was.
She climbed into the large seat and immediately began exploring all the buttons and features with fascinated wonder. Christopher tried to ignore her and focus on his work.
It was difficult when she kept pressing the seat recline button, making it go up and down. She was clearly delighted by the mechanism.
“Honey you need to leave that alone,” the flight attendant said gently.
“Let me help you get settled.”
“Where’s my mommy?” the little girl asked.
Christopher heard a tremor in her voice.
The flight attendant reminded her that her mommy had to stay in Boston with her baby brother because he got sick. But her aunt Diane in San Francisco was so excited to see her.
“You’re going to have a fun visit.”
The little girl nodded but didn’t look convinced. After the flight attendant helped her buckle in and showed her the airsickness bag, she left them alone.
The cabin lights dimmed as the plane prepared for takeoff. Christopher returned his attention to his laptop screen.
They were 20 minutes into the flight when he felt a small hand tap his arm. He looked over to find the little girl studying him with serious blue eyes.
“You look tired sir,” she said with blunt honesty.
Christopher blinked, surprised both by the observation and by being addressed at all.
“I’m fine thank you just working.”
“That’s what my mommy always says.”
“That she’s fine and just working but she looks tired too and sad sometimes even when she’s smiling.”
Christopher wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He turned back to his laptop hoping the child would take the hint.
She didn’t.
“What are you working on?” she asked, leaning over to peer at his screen.
“Financial reports very boring stuff nothing you’d find interesting.”
“What’s financial reports?”
Christopher sighed internally. “It’s information about money how much people have how much they’re making where it should go.”
The girl considered this.
“That does sound boring do you like it?”
The question was so direct and guileless that Christopher found himself pausing. Did he like it?
He was good at it and made a lot of money doing it. It was what he’d built his entire adult life around.
But did he like it?
“It’s my job,” he said, which wasn’t really an answer.
“My mommy has a job too she works at a hospital helping sick people.”
“She says it’s hard but important is your job important?”
Christopher looked at this small child who was asking him questions he normally didn’t let himself consider. “I suppose that depends on your definition of important.”
“What’s definition?”
“It means how you think about something what it means to you.”
The little girl nodded wisely as if this made perfect sense. Then she pulled a coloring book and crayons from her green backpack.
“I’m going to color now do you want to help me?”
“I need to work.”
“Okay but if you get tired of working I have extra crayons.”
She bent over her coloring book and Christopher returned to his spreadsheets. But he found his concentration broken.
He kept glancing over at the child who was carefully coloring a picture of a butterfly. Her small tongue poked out slightly in concentration.
Half an hour later she spoke again.
“Sir do you have any kids?”
Christopher closed his eyes briefly.
“No I don’t.”
“Why not?”
He said he’d been too focused on his career and got divorced three years ago. His wife said he worked too much and didn’t make time for a family.
He was startled that he’d said that last part out loud. He never talked about his divorce or admitted that Rebecca had left him.
He’d chosen board meetings over date nights one too many times. He’d missed their anniversary 3 years in a row.
He’d slowly become someone who could run a company but couldn’t maintain a marriage.
“That’s sad,” the little girl said matterof factly.
“My mommy says that work is important but love is important her.”
“That’s not a real word important but that’s what I say and mommy understands.”
“Your mommy sounds very wise.”
“She is she’s the bestest mommy ever even though she’s tired a lot because she has to work and take care of me and my baby brother Luke by herself.”
“My daddy left before Luke was born.”
“Mommy says he wasn’t ready to be a daddy but that’s okay because we’re doing fine without him.”
The matter-of-fact way she recounted her family situation struck Christopher deeply. This little girl had a harder life than most.
