Keep Smiling
“Roanoke Adventure” - photo by William
“Be cheerful with joyous celebration in every season of life.
Let your joy overflow.”
Philippians 4:4
The loudspeaker crackled to life, announcing what we all suspected:
“May I have your attention please, American Airlines flight #4468, with service to Roanoke, has been cancelled…”
Groans rippled through the gate area. Passengers scurried about, gathering their items. I glanced at my phone—9 p.m. Bedtime, I thought, and smiled at the irony. The announcement wasn’t a surprise, not really.
It was June 30, 2025, and this was my third flight of the day. We’d boarded this one seven hours earlier, only to sit on the runway for two before returning to the gate. Thunderstorms raged throughout the South, grounding every flight in sight. Hour after hour, our departure slipped further away until the final, dreaded word appeared on the screen: Cancelled.
Despite the late hour, LaGuardia Airport still bustled with energy. I watched the people around me start to panic and couldn’t help but wonder—what kind of adventure is in store? I was on my way to Virginia to visit family, then on to Maine. By myself. A small thrill ran through me. The cancellation wouldn’t ruin my trip; I wouldn’t let it.
When I checked my phone again, I saw that the next flight to Roanoke wouldn’t leave until 5 p.m. the following day. That’s a lot of time in an airport, I thought. I gathered my things and started for baggage claim when a voice caught my attention.
“We need to get to Virginia tonight,” a young woman said firmly.
“We’ll figure something out,” another replied.
“I’m calling for a van,” added a third.
I turned to see a group of college-aged girls huddled together, deep in discussion. Are they going to drive? I wondered. An idea began to form.
“Excuse me,” I said, approaching them. “I overheard your conversation. Are you driving to Virginia?”
“Yes,” one of them answered. “We have to get there tonight, so we’re renting a van.” She paused, then smiled. “Do you want to come with us?”
My heart leaped. “Yes! I’d rather drive overnight than spend the night in the airport.” Excitement built in my chest—I felt twenty again.
“We’re camp counselors,” she explained, motioning to her group. “Our campers arrive tomorrow! We’ve got to get there before they do.” She smiled wearily. “There are eight of us, and we just rented a twelve-passenger van with a driver. We have four seats left if you’d like to join.”
“I’d love to. I’m Elizabeth,” I said, offering a hand.
“I’m Sarah,” she replied, her brown eyes sparkling.
“Thank you for letting me join your adventure!” I said.
Sarah tilted her head, puzzled. “You’re very interesting. I don’t understand how you can smile about this. This happened last year before camp too—our flight canceled, and we had to drive. Not exactly my idea of fun.”
I just smiled again, secretly grateful to be traveling alone instead of with my four kids. Handling the disruptions as a family would have been… different.
Moments later, one of the girls frowned into her phone, speaking quickly. Sarah returned, her expression serious. “The driver just raised his price. We’re going to rent cars instead. But we already filled the van, and there are four extra people—including you—who still need a ride.”
“I can drive one of the cars,” I offered. (Never mind that I’m not exactly a night owl.)
Sarah brightened. “That would be amazing! I’ll grab the others for your car.”
Soon, she introduced me to three more travelers: a young couple named William and Brittany, and another girl named Sarah—this one from China, with the same gentle cadence as the students I once taught as an ESL teacher.
We loaded our luggage and climbed aboard the rental shuttle. New York bustled around us, restless even at midnight.
“Look at you,” the first Sarah said across the aisle. “You’re still smiling!”
I hadn’t realized I was—but she was right. My grin widened.
“Let the adventure begin,” I said.
There are so many details I could tell: navigating through New York City traffic, fumbling with the rental car’s wipers in the pouring rain, or watching the way William and Brittany quietly cherished each other. But those stories will have to wait for another time.
We pulled into Roanoke just as the sun peeked over the horizon. The four of us snapped a photo and said our goodbyes, exhausted yet victorious.
I’ve thought about that night many times since. Surprisingly, it’s Sarah’s comment that sticks with me:
“Look at you—you’re still smiling.”
It was easy to smile then. I was heading into twelve days of family, rest, and freedom—my own little adventure. But later that summer, when life handed me challenges that didn’t come with a car full of cheerful strangers, I remembered her words again. Only this time, smiling wasn’t so easy.
That’s when I realized what that long night had really taught me: joy isn’t reserved for when things go smoothly. It’s a choice we make when plans unravel. It’s the quiet courage to see inconvenience as invitation—to let go, adjust our perspective, and find wonder in the detour.
Life rarely unfolds exactly as we imagine. Haven’t you found that to be true? Flights get canceled, storms roll in, and sometimes the road takes us somewhere unexpected. But if we pause, take a breath, and embrace the moment, we might just find beauty along the way.
So when life’s loudspeaker announces, Your plans have been canceled. Please proceed to baggage claim, I will do my best to do what I did that night—
Take a deep breath.
Embrace the adventure.
And keep smiling.