His mother looked relieved, thanking me quietly. The boy nodded with excitement and immediately focused on scribbling shapes, his feet still, his voice soft as he concentrated.

For the rest of the flight, the tapping stopped. Every so often, he proudly held up a drawing, and I gave him a thumbs-up. When we landed, he handed me the notebook page with a smiling plane and fluffy clouds. “For you,” he said shyly. As I walked off the plane, tired but smiling, I realized that sometimes patience opens doors that frustration never could. A little kindness—not anger—gave us both a peaceful journey.