Last week, we had a Belev Echad trip to Miami for our wounded soldiers. I flew in for the inspiring event and stayed overnight.
When I boarded the plane the following day, I walked down to row 31 and saw someone sitting in what I believed to be my seat. I asked him to move, and he said no, it was his seat.
I was surprised, but it turned out he was correct. I always use the same travel agent and he knows my preferences. I hate flying and am quite fidgety, so I always request an aisle seat. Somehow, this time, I’d ended up in a window seat.
I texted my travel agent. “Why am I not in the aisle?”
“There was no space on the flight,” he explained.
“I would rather not fly if I’m not in the aisle.”
“What’s the issue?” he asked. “Who are you sitting next to?”
Well, sitting next to me was a 2-year-old girl, and next to her, in the aisle seat, was the father.
I asked the dad, “Do you want to switch with me?”
But like me, he replied, “If I don’t sit on the aisle I don’t get on the plane.”
So for three hours back to New York, I sat next to this girl who screamed and cried the entire way. Her ears must have been hurting, because she cried extra loudly during take-off and landing. They had come prepared with a million snacks, all of which landed on me. First it was her pretzels, then her chocolate milk, then her potato chips, her Cheerios and apple juice! All over my seat, all over my clothes.
And she kept kicking, pushing, and shoving into me, stuck as I was in the window seat, like a prisoner, at the mercy of her surprisingly strong fists and legs.
When I finally got home, I told my wife the story and she told me, “Well, now you know how people feel when we travel with our 8 kids!”
And she’s not wrong. Last Shabbat, our kids were playing in the backyard. Our 7-year-old had a tantrum and one of the neighbors opened his window and yelled out, “Shut up!” Another neighbor screamed, “Go inside!”
Well, I guess at least now we know how they feel.
Typically, we love ourselves and don’t see our own faults. Or we see them, but we justify them. When someone else does the same thing, however, it bothers us and we become critical.
Somehow, I was quick to criticize my neighbors on the airplane, but full of understanding and excuses for my own children.
We’re currently celebrating the holiday of Lag Baomer, whose overall theme is to love our fellow Jews as we love ourselves. That means overlooking their faults or finding favorable explanations for their behavior, just as we do for ourselves. It means having patience when other people’s children act out, the same way we excuse our own. It doesn’t come naturally, but Lag Baomer reminds us that that is our goal.