Flying alone with my 14-month-old son, Shawn, was daunting, but I had no choice—my mother was very ill,

and my father had paid for the trip so she could meet her grandson. From the moment we boarded,

Shawn cried, and I felt the stares of impatient passengers. Exhausted, I tried everything to soothe him, but nothing worked.

About an hour into the flight, a man named David across the aisle offered to help, mentioning he had a child the same age.

Desperate, I hesitated, then let him hold Shawn while watching closely. At first, it worked—Shawn calmed down—but then I noticed

David doing something shockingly inappropriate. My heart raced as I rushed over, snatched Shawn back, and demanded he stop.

The commotion drew a flight attendant, who swiftly intervened. She guided David back to his seat and moved Shawn

and me to a quieter section for safety and peace of mind. There, Shawn finally slept in my arms, and I felt a wave of relief.

When we landed, I realized how vital it is to trust my instincts and remain alert. The flight attendant’s

kindness reminded me that even in chaos, true help comes from the right people.