As Blanche DuBois said...

"I have always depended on the kindness of strangers."

I'll admit, the first time I heard that line, it was from Marge Simpson in the Springfieldian musical "Streetcar".

Nevertheless, I nearly uttered that very phrase with all the affectations of a southern belle while recounting my recent flights with two small children in tow.

Daddy stayed home while his three girls jetted off for a week in the sun (and, realistically, rain), visiting friends and family in Florida.  No particular occasion for said visit.  Just had to go see my good friend who happens to have two (sometimes three) little people of her own, and her 5-year-old gets along famously with my Peach.  We hadn't seen them since moving to Wisconsin last March, so a visit was in order.  And Daddy's little brother, Uncle Toddy, still lives down here. We'll introduce our new Pimento to him, as well.

Our day started with a 3:15am wake-up call so (ever-heroic, steadfast) Daddy could drive us the 90 minutes to Milwaukee in time for our 6:05 departure.  Ugh.  Who the heck booked this flight?  Oh, yes.  I did.

After waiting through the check-in line, and with Daddy long-gone with the car, an attendant at the Southwest counter had mercy on me when I told her (wide-eyed with disbelief) that no, I didn't have the required birth certificate for my 5-month-old "lap child".  She offered a warning for "next time", and allowed us to proceed to the gate with the necessary notations on my boarding pass.
Thank you, stranger!

We were aided by a woman just ahead of us (with her prepubescent son) at the security checkpoint, who loaded up two bins with our footwear and various loose articles and hoisted our wheeled carry-on bag onto the scanner belt with a smile on her face.
Thank you, stranger!

My deepest gratitude to lone traveler and businessman Dan Miller of Milwaukee, whose grandfatherly way with my girls on our flight to Baltimore kept me from melting into tears when one seemingly urgent need after another emerged.  One kiddo needed a diaper change and the other followed up with a request to "go potty".  No problem, Dan said, I'll stay with Peach, and then he held the baby... while I navigated the impossibly small 737 bathroom with just *one* extra body each time.  He offered up his tray table when the drinks came and I didn't have room on my lap to use my own and Peach's was occupied with diversions.  He graciously endured being kicked by baby feet during nursing sessions, and didn't creep me out when I had to breastfeed in close quarters.  Finally, he fetched our carry-on from the overhead compartment when we landed, wishing us good luck before melting into the deplaning masses.
Thank you, stranger!

Between flights, I stopped by a newsstand to pick up some gum and -d'oh- I forgot to grab a bottle of water!  No problem, the woman behind us offered, you can have this one, and I'll just go get another one.
Thank you, stranger!

On the flight to Orlando, Pimento graced me with a second messy diaper.  (Either I like her brew, or her poop truly does smell like yogurt.)  The mother next to us sat with Peach while I tended Pimento in the impossibly small bathroom alone.  She opened the plane snacks for Peach while I was gone, with only a touch of "and it was an inconvenience" in her voice while pointing it out.  She was traveling with her two small children, too, though she also had them outnumbered with a daddy and grandma tag-tending them.  (Was I envious?  Maybe.  But I think I needed to prove to myself that I can handle one of the more daunting aspects of parenting.  No matter.)
Thank you, stranger!

Another lone businessman retrieved our carry-on from overhead upon landing in Florida, and he even towed it out of the plane for us, waiting just outside the aircraft with it while we struggled along behind.
Thank you, stranger!

As I finally dragged my pathetic, travel-worn carcass through the Orlando International Airport, I was greeted by a familiar grin, and my dear friend took over the lead.  She was able to simultaneously comfort me, entertain Peach, move us efficiently from baggage claim to parking garage, and load us all into her waiting chariot without breaking a sweat.  (Not to mention she provided car seats for both Ps so I didn't have to schlep ours from Wisconsin.)  

This particular encounter doesn't fall under the "stranger" heading, though I believe its veritably life-saving nature as the gracious reception of an exhausted mama deserves recognition.

Traveling with littlies is generally regarded as an altogether beastly task, and I certainly received my fair share or more of pity and encouraging looks throughout the ordeal.  All told, I much preferred the notable actions of a few individuals to all the arms-length sympathy.  

I plan to remember these moments when the opportunities arise to act in kind.  

Anyone else enjoy the small miracle of human kindness lately?