Flowers. Happiness.

Once I was sitting in the Sarajevo, Bosnia, airport and got to observe a real happiness moment.  You know, one of those moments that just puts a grin on your face and makes you think the world’s a pretty great place after all.

As I sat there, watching travelers come and go (could do that for hours), I noticed the hustle and bustle of a large group enter the airport to greet their returning travelers.  Grandmas, grandpas, moms, dads, teenagers, children.  And then I watched as a group of Bosnian teenage girls (if I had to guess returning from some kind of religious/band/knitting camp–you know, if I had to guess) , walked out of the terminal…  their crowd. went. wild.  Hugs, kisses, smiles, laughs and my favorite part…  flowers!

For some reason, I couldn’t get over how great it was that the greeters all brought the girls flowers.  I sat there and thought to myself, next time I pick someone up from the airport, I want to bring them flowers.  Happiness.

Well, I have yet to live up to my resolve.  However, yesterday after returning from a week away, for the first time, I was the recipient of such a thoughtful airport-pick-up gesture.  And it was great.  And I was happy. (Almost as happy as I was to see the guy who gave them).

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