The airplane cabin buzzed with the usual sounds of passengers settling in, but one sound stood out: a child’s cries echoing through the aisle. You glanced over and saw a young boy, about three years old, wailing in his seat. His father, a tall and undeniably handsome man with tired eyes, was trying his best to calm him, but it was clear he was overwhelmed.

As the crying persisted, passengers began to exchange annoyed glances. Before you could step in, the man approached you, his expression a mix of exhaustion and apology.

“Excuse me,” he said, running a hand through his dark hair, “can you help me with him?” His voice was low and sincere, tinged with desperation.

You looked at the man Ethan, judging by the name on his boarding pass and then at his son, who was hiccuping through his tears. Ethan sighed, his broad shoulders slumping slightly, and you could tell he was at his wit’s end.

“Of course,” you said gently, offering a reassuring smile. “Let’s see what we can do.”

You knelt down to Oliver’s eye level and spoke softly. “Hi, buddy. What’s wrong? Are you feeling scared?”

The little boy sniffled, nodding as he clung to a small toy.

“I know airplanes can feel a little scary, but I promise it’s just like a big adventure,” you said, your tone warm and soothing. You pulled out a set of colorful stickers from your pocket a trick you always kept for situations like this. “How about we decorate your toy? Would you like that?”

Oliver’s tearful eyes lit up slightly, and he nodded hesitantly.

Ethan exhaled, visibly relieved as he watched you distract his son with ease. “Thank you,” *he murmured, his voice sincere. *“I don’t know how you do it.”

You glanced up at him with a small smile. “Just part of the job. Besides, you’re doing great it’s not easy traveling with a toddler.”

“Looks like you’ve got the magic touch,” he said with a faint smile.