Jessica shares how traveling alone with kids may have been chaotic, but the kindness from others allowed her to make a memorable trip that much more unforgettable.
This summer we were fortunate to visit family and the city where I was born in Chihuahua, Mexico. We had many adventures as a family of five, but one of the most memorable was our return trip—when our three kids and I flew home on an international flight without Dad, who had to return earlier for work. I’ve traveled with them on my own before, both by plane and on road trips, so I wasn’t too worried. Plus, the older siblings are always helpful when they need to be.
However, unexpected delays brought a surprise—and the most stressed and blessed I’ve felt in a long time.
Our first flight and international arrival went as smoothly as it could have, thankfully. But suddenly, our trip—which began with a comfortable 1 p.m. departure—was now at risk of ending in an overnight stay at Dallas airport at 8 p.m. I already knew the next flight home wouldn’t leave until the following morning, and I was in trouble. One mom, three boys, and the idea of being stranded at an airport (or a hotel) without our luggage or enough supplies? No, gracias. Me tembló el corazón thinking of all the possible scenarios as we stood in the long security line, trying to make our 8:40 p.m. flight.
My mind raced: Did everyone decide to travel today? Are we going to make it? Should I have booked a different flight? Do I have enough diapers? We definitely won’t be able to eat a full meal. Do I know anyone in Dallas?
My 8-year-old’s realist attitude wasn’t helping—he kept insisting we were going to miss our flight. Add to that a 1-year-old who didn’t want to sit in the stroller because the line wasn’t moving. My saving grace, el campeón of this whole ordeal, was my 13-year-old. His constant, “We’re going to make it, Ma,” kept me going.
That is, until we were still far from TSA with only 20 minutes until departure—and we still needed to take the train to our terminal. I panicked. I asked TSA agents if they could let us through, but they said they couldn’t do anything about the people ahead of us. Then a thought came: Am I really going to ask strangers to let us cut in line?
The shy, rule-following niña in me shivered, but I reminded myself—that’s not who I am anymore. The alternative? A night at the airport with my tres niños. No, gracias.
The Courage and the Ask
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and pushed the hesitant but hopeful words out:
“Excuse me? Is there any way you could let us go through? Our flight leaves in 10 minutes and the next one isn’t until tomorrow morning. I’m with my three kids.”
The strangers looked confused at first, then glanced at the baby in my arms and back at the siblings. I held my breath, probably with my mom’s classic cara de preocupada, until—finally—a gentle nod. A breeze of fresh air, a spark of esperanza, and I exhaled.
I kept going, repeating my request to each group ahead. Most people were kind, some hesitated, especially if their own flights were soon, but they saw our situation and changed their minds. We must have passed through 15 groups of people before meeting one person who wasn’t in a good space.
In a previous chapter of my life, I might have described him differently, but I’ve learned that what we put out comes back to us. Still, this man shook his head and said, “No, I’m not letting you go through.” His tone carried bitterness, and I sensed he’d decided we didn’t deserve what he hadn’t gotten. He claimed the people ahead wouldn’t let us through either, and I told him he was blocking my family from a chance. The knot in my throat threatened tears, but deep breaths—and my oldest signaling me to drop it—helped me let go.
Thinking back, I imagine his refusal came from past disappointments, not from me or my kids.
We kept moving forward. Carrying all our belongings meant I couldn’t check flight updates until we were through security and on the rail to our gate. I was afraid to look, but encouraged by the kids, I refreshed the page: Flight delayed. New departure time: 9:05 p.m.
We all smiled and thanked Jesus. Lo que Dios quiera kept repeating in my mind. Of course, our gate was the last one in Terminal A. We made a plan: the oldest would run ahead to alert the gate, the middle child would handle the stroller and bags, and I would run—with the baby.
Magic in the Midst of Chaos
One image will forever stay in my heart: my oldest sprinting past five gates, me chasing after him (very out of shape) with the baby, and my middle child zigzagging the stroller like a real-life Mario Kart. The baby laughed at all the bouncing, the middle one grinned like it was the best game ever, and their joy was contagious. I laughed too, even though it didn’t help my full-bladder situation.
As we approached the gate, I heard over the intercom: “Last call for flight 1336.”
“Run, Leo!” I yelled.
We made it.
Thanks to every person who let us pass, we boarded the plane. Later, we learned a small technical issue had delayed the departure even more—an answered prayer (even while traveling alone with kids), a miracle to make sure we made it home safe that night.
It All Starts with Our Own Strength
I keep thinking back to those moments in the security line. Since that day, I’ve been praying for all the families who helped us, that they receive blessings in return. I’ve also been praying for the man who didn’t, that he may open his heart to kindness and community. I hope he receives opportunities where his own pain doesn’t stand in the way of helping others.
This experience made me reflect on my own life. How many times have I missed the chance to help someone because I was too focused on my own discomfort? How many times could I have made someone’s day? Too many.
Still, I’m proud of myself. As a semi-retired people-pleaser, it’s not easy to set boundaries—especially in Latin culture—and put my needs first. The old me would have been terrified to ask strangers to give up their spot in line. My lesson? Sometimes we must take the first step to activate the blessing. As Paulo Coelho says: “When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.”
Note: If you were one of the families who helped us at Dallas airport on Saturday, June 14, please know you re-energized my hope for humanity and reminded me that kindness still exists. And yes—we made our flight!
