I boarded the plane and settled into my seat, noticing a middle school-aged boy sitting next to me. I assumed his mom was in the bathroom or something, but as the plane took off, he was still alone. He fidgeted nervously, clearly uncomfortable, but I tried to mind my own business.
A few minutes into the flight, with a trembling hand, he handed me a folded, wrinkled piece of paper with a ten-dollar bill sticking out. He didn’t look me in the eye and just held the paper out until I finally took it. The moment I read the note, I knew I had to contact his mom. I frantically searched for my phone because the note said:
“Please, if you’re reading this, it means that”
