I Need a Glass of Water

I need a glass of water

Most would think this is an easy statement with an easy answer.

It should be.

But, friends, it’s not!

Recently I was on a flight to a work meeting.  As usual the space was tight, the seats were hard and the mood was, well, flighty! People were upset about the cost, the late night, the lack of sleep, COVID stress, and every other token of worries that had accumulated throughout their day.

That, and the flight itself, was emotionally and physically exhausting for me.  Not to mention the jet lag effect.   With all of that, the hustled and congested loading paired with my face-mask holding my saliva as I exhaled, both my mood and my mouth were dry.

Water was the answer.

But, when the flight attendant came by and I asked for a drink of water the response caught my breath.  “It is $3.”

$3 was a sharp amount!

$3 impacted my kid’s next meal or the answer I would give when their cute, pouty faces would ask for ice-cream “just this time.”

$3 was a bite into my next bill awaiting—that payment that might bay the shark that month. 

$3 was more than I had to spare…especially for water.

I felt this moment of shame flood across my face.  It felt like I was supposed to be able to afford this. I couldn’t.  Reluctantly I turned down bottle and stated, “No, I just needed a sip, thanks.”

The flight attendant must have been annoyed.

I saw her eyes go back and a smirk race across lips.

She must have thought I wanted a “free drink” with my “almost-free” ride.

I didn’t.  I just wasn’t going to, or really able to, pay $3 for H20.

I was a successful survivor.  A warrior of resilience.  A finder of hope.  A foster kid who had known $3, or less, being the answer to way more than faucet water for a long, long time.

Water gave life—that was free.  I thought it was living it that was supposed to cost.

$3 meant a lot to me.

But, the flight attendant’s response after that did too.

About 15 minutes later my eyes were closed and I could hear the trolley coming back because the row the behind me had got their needs met.   I closed my eyes to rest knowing I was okay.  My need would be met when the flight was over.

But the slithering sound of an arm sliding across the 3 seats beside me opened my eyes. The bottle of cold water that was placed in my lap opened my eyes to a smile.   The attendant was there with a brief smile and non-verbal support.

She didn’t know me.

She didn’t know about me.

She didn’t have to bless me.

But she did anyway.  

As I gulped one of the most refreshing waters I’d had in a long time for my mouth and soul, the emotional reminder of being seven years old and holding a boxed juice from a neighbor who’d seen my thirst for love flashed through my memories.

That flight attendee’s moment of kindness refreshed my soul with a hope that water can’t touch.