Running through St. Louis International Airport with exactly four minutes to make my connection, I smacked into an innocent passerby and my whole body went for a tumble. I was hot, tired and very bothered, and now not only were my legs splayed out over the central airport walkway, but all my college applications and files were fast becoming carpet for those also rushing to make their flights.

All of the sudden hands came out of nowhere, literally picked me up and all my files. At least six people stopped to gather all my belongings and helped me to my feet.

There were now 2 minutes to make my flight.

I raced to Gate 42, bags in hand, sneakers in the air, and breathlessly shot past the desk attendant who motioned me through the still -thank God- open gate.

I literally fell into the seat, amazed that I had made my connection, and a little dazed. Before I knew it, the plane was in the air and there was but 45 minutes remaining in my flight to Memphis. I pulled out my journal and began to transcribe the events that had just taken place, the colleges I had visited and the students I had quizzed on their experiences with dorms, professors, and parties. My head was spinning. I felt out of place, unwanted, not knowing where to apply to study, clueless and wondering if I would ever feel a part of the college life at any of those huge campuses. It was also Valentine’s Day, a yearly event guaranteed to end in disappointment, adding to my already long list of worry and disillusionment.

A hand tapped my shoulder and it was time to stow my tabletop in an upright position. The plane hit the runway and the passengers began to empty out the plane. I smoothed my messy hair, straightened my skirt and followed the line snaking through the plane.

As soon as I exited, a man came up to me and said, “Miss, you dropped this,” and handed me a piece of folded paper. I promptly placed it in my pocket and didn’t think twice until I headed down for baggage claim and opened up the paper.

“To Row 7 seat D,” the note began.

“As I peered through the clouds on St. Valentine’s Eve,
The lights of St. Louis looked back up at me

Their beauty amazed me
Like nothing I have seen
Except for the stunning young lady
Row 7 seat D

She sits alone
Her finger bares no ring
With the face of an Angel
I have seen only in my dreams

Though I will never approach her
I will never regret
The flight to Memphis
And the angel I never met

From O.K.C.
Your not-so-secret Admirer
P.S. I am not some crazed psychopathic stalker, just a guy who knows true beauty when he sees it.”

The whole world stopped and my heart ceased to beat.

Who was this person who had lit up St. Valentine’s Day for me? Not only did I not know his name, but I couldn’t even remember his face, just a blur of a white button down dress shirt. I was floored! I looked about the baggage claim unable to spot whoever he might be, unable to recollect a single detail more than his tie. I hid the note back in my pocket, feeling a bit shy and overwhelmed by the gesture of someone unknown to me. College life suddenly seemed small, when the eyes of a stranger can make your heart feel so big.

It has been nearly 8 years since that day at the airport, and I am happy to say that not only did I choose a college, but I have since graduated. I still have the poem I received and have long ago committed it to memory. This experience was so moving for me and will likely leave a mark on my life for a long time, not so much because of those unexpected words, but rather, because it enabled me to reflect on just how powerful words can be. I was in a state of utter stress and frustration, yet when I received that note, the tension that existed only mere moments before was gone. I think about this lesson often and try to express kind words to others, sometimes even to total strangers. Wherever and whoever you are O.K.C., thanks for the note and thanks for showing me just how much of an impact kind words can have.