We landed in Atlanta after a 35-minute delay, but I was still going to be able to make my next flight to Pennsylvania. I had time to go by a coffee kiosk for a quick breakfast and get to my concourse and gate. I took the Plane Train to my concourse, patronized my favorite coffee place in that concourse, walked to my gate, found a seat, opened my ruck to retrieve a book, completed a reading of another of the seven short pieces in a book I am thoroughly enjoying, and waited for my steaming coffee to cool.

I finished another of the fictional gems in my book, finished my coffee, discarded my rubbish in the appropriately marked cans nearby, and waited for the announcement coming shortly. Within moments, the lady’s voice came on, though she sounded like Charlie Brown’s teacher–“Wah wah . . . Wah wah . . . Wah . . .” She sounded like she was eating the microphone, perhaps digesting it.

Nonetheless we boarded the plane and took our seats in typical fashion. As I boarded, those in wheelchairs and pregnant women, and parents with small children, were of course already on. I don’t know why, but I always gravitate towards those who need extra help. Something in me is determined to help those who may be overlooked or minimized.

As I boarded, there were two older women who were clearly weak and needed patience and perhaps a kind word from someone. They were struggling to get their purses and backpacks in the overhead bins. “Good morning, ma’am. A hand?” I asked. The clear leader of the two ladies turned around and looked at me in uniform. (I’m guessing they were twins, at least sisters. They had the same build, the same haircuts, even the same facial expressions.)

“O, thank you, sir,” she said. “And thank you for your service.”

“I saw you were getting peanut M&M’s out of your backpack; that’s what I’m talking about. Clearly you’re good people,” I said. They both laughed simultaneously and looked at each other and smiled. I liked them both immediately. They just needed a kind word and some patience from folks.

I got their backpacks stowed and took my seat a couple of rows behind them, and the rest of the passengers were all finally boarded. When we were all seated and about to back up from the gate, the leader of the two ladies came walking slowly down the aisle with an unopened yellow bag of peanut M&M’s. “Will you please take some?” she asked me.

“I really shouldn’t,” I said.

“Please,” she said. “It would mean a lot to us.”

She tore off the corner of the yellow bag and poured some candies into my hand. “Thank you for your service, sir.”

And thank you, ma’am, I thought. You and your companion have just made my day. (And the smell of peanut M&M’s after a cup of coffee ain’t too bad, either.) It’s the small things that aren’t, well, small.