When I began planning for our trip to Texas, a few weeks ago, I decided to make the switch to Carryon Luggage. No matter the length of the trip, I decided there'd never again be an episode of tossing out makeup, clothing, etc. to try to clear security and catch a flight on time. After a bit of shopping I found a little suitcase and a carryon that I thought would do nicely. As I packed, I threw a big ziploc of my current knitting project, and also my little pink iPod, fully charged into my carryon bag.

When we boarded the plane in Pittsburgh, we ended up at the back of the plane. Right behind us two young women and a man settled into the seats. Most travelers fall into one of three categories, #1 - the chatty, #2 - the silent, or #3 - those who suffer through traveling with small children. The two Category One women, both in sales, were traveling together. The man was flying alone. Before our wheels left the ground, they were diving deep into conversation. It was clear they were going to become fast friends during the course of this flight. The woman next to the window started chattering, at a pretty good volume, and halfway to Chicago everyone within a few rows knew her favorite foods, details of her job, all about her co-workers, that she loved to bake, and she happened to have 45 freshly baked chocolate chip cookies with her.

My husband settled against the window with his book. I grabbed my knitting. She talked. Her girlfriend seemed to play the part of a typical Dean Martin / Jerry Lewis act, setting her up for punch lines, laughing at all the right places, and the man seated with them seemed to find them both fascinating. After about 45 minutes I gave up being able to block them out, and pulled out my iPhone. Playing Chris Tomlin's Arriving CD, and knitting away, I finished a good chunk of a scarf and most of the rest of the flight to Chicago. As we heard announcements begin to come over the loudspeaker, telling us to raise trays, etc. I put away my knitting and iPod. I also heard the loud, chatty woman ask her seatmates if they'd like a cookie. Why, yes they would! Then I heard her ask them, "did you hear that man ask me to turn down my volume? Do you think he thought I talk too loud? I've never been any good at volume, I just can't seem to hear myself."

Indeed! After 1 1/2 hours in the air, I felt like I knew enough about her to send her a Christmas card this year. The least she could have done was pass the cookies back and forth a few rows ahead and behind her. We'd earned a cookie at least.

We got off the plane, had Chicago style hotdogs and beers in the Chicago airport, then boarded the next plane to finish our flight to Dallas. Completely packed, every single seat sold. I promise, I love my grandchildren, but when the Category #3 - only small child on the plane settled down on her mother's lap, right in front of me, it didn't take me 30 minutes to pull out the knitting and the iPod again. This time I listened to Selah while I got yet another chunk of that scarf done.

I'm not so shallow as to miss all the truly important things to be thankful for this Thanksgiving - family, health, jobs, etc. etc. I just don't want to miss the little things in life. Landing safely 2 hours later, thirty minutes delayed and at 11:30 pm, with the child still awake and fussy, I could only think, thank you God for Susan B. Anderson who inspired my daughter, Sarah to learn to knit and she inspired me to take it up. It helped make an entire day in crowded airports and airplanes bearable. And thank you God too for my little pink gently refurbished iPod bought on Ebay two years ago. I may have given up a bit of future hearing somewhere down the road, but at the time it seemed quite worth it - listening to praise music and clicking needles, rather than gnashing of teeth.

Labels: Glimpse of the Heart