We flew on Westjet Flight #1221 from Fort Lauderdale at 9:30pm, landing in Toronto after midnight, with my toddler whose only other flight was just the week before.
 When I first saw you—a big, tough-looking guy in your late twenties—I worried you might not like sitting next to a small child. I was wrong, and I’m so thankful for that. Because of turbulence, the seatbelt sign stayed on for much of the flight. That meant instead of sitting on my lap or grandpa’s for comfort, my son had to stay buckled in right beside you. I never got your name, but thank you for all the small, thoughtful things you did. Thank you for picking up his blanket every time he dropped it, half-asleep. Thank you for turning your light away when he finally drifted off. Thank you for being kind and talking to him even when you didn’t have to. Thank you for offering him (and us) candy and gum to help with his ears. Thank you for letting his little legs and feet rest on you. And thank you for getting our bags down so he wouldn’t be disturbed. My son is usually calm and quiet, but I was nervous about how these first flights would go. Small, tired kids can make people impatient, and not everyone shows kindness. You turned that flight into a reminder of compassion and patience. One day my little boy will grow into a man, and I hope he learns from people like you. Your simple actions meant more than you know. If you choose to be a father someday, you will be a wonderful one.