Airports are filled with magic.

It is a place of farewells and reunions; hopes and crushed dreams; beginnings and endings. A woman going overseas for a new job could be sitting next to a man going overseas for his son’s funeral, both waiting to board the same flight. There are so many stories, each person at the airport with their own reason for flying.

As I was waiting for my ride in the pick-up zone, I saw a woman and two kids waiting next to me. They were sitting on a bench in silence, staring at the cars pulling in, not moving, as if in a trance. After a few minutes, a man got out of a car and began running towards them. When the first kid saw him, he cried, Daddy! and the other kid got up and they both ran to him. They collided and the dad picked them up, one in each arm, with the biggest smile I had ever seen. I didn’t know smiles could be that wide – it seemed to stretch on forever. He hugged his kids like they were the most precious things in the universe. When he finally put them down, he went to his wife, who was taking a photo, who put her phone down and they met for a hug. The two kids came up and the hug opened to let them in. What a sight to behold.

Not too far from me, I noticed a man staring at the family as well. He was middle-aged, with a beard and a red cap. We made eye contact and smiled, recognising the magic.