On my flight from London to New York, a woman asked me to switch seats so she could sit with her mother. I refused. Later, a stewardess quietly told me she was the airline owner’s daughter. Her parting words—“You’ll regret this”—stuck with me.
Midway through the flight, turbulence hit. Oxygen masks dropped, and panic spread. Then I heard her scream: “My mother! She’s not breathing!” We made an emergency landing in Iceland, but her mother didn’t survive.
I felt awful—not because I caused it, but because I could have shown more grace. The next day, during my crucial investor pitch, I stumbled. Just as I was losing them, she walked in. Afterward, she told me her mother had passed but admitted she’d asked investors to give me another chance. “You looked like someone who made a bad decision, not a bad person,” she said.
Weeks later, I got the deal that saved my company—and a handwritten note from her: Kindness isn’t about obligation. It’s about opportunity.
That lesson changed everything
