In the airplane restroom, I discovered a weeping young boy holding a paper bag, and he wasn’t listed among the passengers.

During a routine flight, I heard a kitten-like noise from the bathroom—only to find a crying boy named Ben curled up on the floor. No “Ben” was on the passenger list; he was a stowaway, clutching a paper bag with photos of his parents, who “never came back.” He’d run away from an orphanage, sneaking onto the plane to escape. My heart broke as he shared his story of loss. After landing, child services confirmed the orphanage was unfit, placing Ben in temporary foster

care. Seeing his fear of being lost in the system, I couldn’t let him go. I offered to take him in, and his joy melted me. Months later, I adopted him. The boy who wasn’t on the manifest became my son. On that flight, thousands of feet up, we found each other—a new family born from a chance encounter.