I knock, expecting a passenger to answer, but nothing. Curious (and low-key panicking), I open the door and nearly jump out of my skin. No kitten. Instead, a little boy is curled up on the floor, crying his eyes out. I crouch down, trying to stay calm, and say, “Whoa, buddy, you scared me! I’m Leslie. What’s your name?”
Through teary eyes, he whispers, “Ben.”
I help him up and settle him into a jump seat while I try to figure out where he’s supposed to be. But here’s the kicker: there’s no “Ben” on the passenger list. Not a single one. My brain is spinning. “Ben, where are your parents? Are you lost?” He doesn’t answer, just clutches this ratty little paper bag like it’s a lifeline.
Trying to keep it together, I ask, “Alright, Ben. Focus. What’s in the bag?”
Leslie, a flight attendant, hears strange cries from a bathroom during a flight. Investigating, she discovers Ben, a lost boy with his grandmother’s medicine. He’s mistakenly on the wrong plane, desperate to save his granny and earn his mother’s approval. Leslie helps calm him and, upon landing, buys him a ticket to Seattle to reunite with his family.
Meanwhile, Leslie’s own son, Joe, is seriously ill, and she takes time off to care for him despite financial struggles. Just as hope fades, Ben and his family appear, offering funds from a crowdfunding campaign meant for Ben’s late grandmother. This donation enables Joe’s recovery.
In gratitude, Leslie arranges lifelong discounted flights for Ben’s family, ensuring their kindness is repaid.
