Returning to NYC and paying it forward.

I took a red-eye back to NYC, which was late. Then in Cleveland, they had jetway problems so I deplaned about ten minutes before my connecting flight was due to depart.

Yes, as you might guess, the gates were at opposite ends of the airport.  I sprinted through and made it safely on the plane.

Back in NYC I hopped on the bus home and overheard a college boy ask someone where the bus went. I told him that it stopped at 106th and Broadway and we talked about the connections he’d need to make to get to where he was going.  When the bus finally arrives, I stand up and say, “This is it. The last stop.”

Besides us, the only other person on the bus was this young college girl with ginormous bags. She looked panicky. “The last stop?”

I nodded. “Where are you trying to go?”

“LaGuardia Airport.”

Wincing, I explained that she’d gotten on the bus heading the wrong way. The driver pointed across the street and told her to run because the next bus to LaGuardia was pulling up.

By the time I got the college boy pointed in the right direction and headed across the street, it was clear that the girl had missed the bus. It was also clear that she was doing her best not to cry in public.  I stopped to explain which of the two buses she needed to get and that it would take about 45 minutes to get out there.

Her tears got a little closer to the surface.

“What time is your flight?”

“11:30. There’s no way.” She shook her head. “I was supposed to leave yesterday but they canceled it.”

“Do you have enough money for a cab?”

“How much?”

“$40 – $60.”

“There’s no way.”

“Okay.” I stepped out into the street and hailed a cab. “We’re going to put you in a cab and send you.”

“You can’t–”

By this point, there was already a cab pulled up in front of us.   I leaned down and said, “She needs to go to LaGuardia and doesn’t have enough money, so I need to pre-pay you. How much?”

He squinted, thinking. “With tolls? $35.”

I gave him the cash, plus a tip. She hugged me, asked my name and I sent her speeding off.

When people ask what “paying it forward” means, it’s this.  Someone was this nice to me when I was her age. I’ve just paid it forward and someday, she will too.

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18 thoughts on “Returning to NYC and paying it forward.”

  1. God Bless you Mary. You are abolutely
    right about paying it forward! Karma!
    I’m very, very proud of you!

  2. Oh Mary, you had me at “góðan daginn.” Seriously, the world is a better place with your presence. Keep being you.

  3. Paying-it-forward the way you did at the End of a long trip should earn extra points, I think. At the end of a long trip, with a connecting flight, etc is when my own generosity/thoughtfulness is often at it’s lowest ebb.
    Rock on.

  4. As a mom of a 23 year-old who just moved to NYC–Thank you, Thank you. Thank you. For all the moms in all the world, thank you. I actually have tears in my eyes.

  5. We already knew you were made of awesome, and so are unsurprised by you demonstrating it once again. Very nicely done!

  6. That was such a wonderful thing to do. You’ve made the world a better place. Thanks!

  7. If the people lived their lives / as if it were a song / for singing out of light / provide the music / for the stars / to be dancing circles in the night.

    Thank you for singing out the light.

  8. Good for you, Mary. I like to think a lot of us would do something similar given the opportunity, and I’m going to just believe that. Most of the opportunities I get are being the cool prof who gets how overwhelming college life is sometimes and finds a way to accommodate problems. I have a few secret rules that all break in their favor when they need them (I don’t tell students, to prevent abuse).

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