He’s never been to an airport before.
People stared at her. Her apron, her old shoes, her simple, hardworking hands.
But the boys walked proudly, one on each side.
They passed through a special corridor. An employee greeted them respectfully.
A huge white plane was waiting on the runway.
The company name was embossed on the fuselage. And under the cabin window, in tiny, almost invisible letters, was the inscription: “Maria.”
“What is this?” he asked in a trembling voice.
“This was our first official flight in Romania, as captain,” Andrej said. “And the plane is named after you.”
Maria covered her mouth with her hand.
“I couldn’t…”
“Of course it’s possible. Because he did everything he could.”
They led him into the cabin. They placed him on the seat behind them.
When the engines started, Maria closed her eyes.
He remembered the small room, the cakes he sold in the cold, the lightless evenings.
And now… he was above the clouds.
When the plane took off, the tears flowed in streams again.
“We’re flying, Mom,” Paul said through his headphones.
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