I was flying Southwest from Dallas to New York. Three rows ahead of me, there was a young soldier in uniform. He looked barely 18. He was staring straight ahead, gripping the armrests. He looked nervous. When the drink cart came around, the flight attendant asked him what he wanted. 'Coke, please,' he said. 'Heading home?' she asked kindly. 'No, ma'am,' he said. 'Deploying. First time.' The whole row went quiet. The flight attendant didn't say a word. she handed him his Coke. Then, she got on the PA system. 'Ladies and gentlemen, we have a very special guest in Row 8 today. Private Miller is on his first deployment to serve our country. Since I can't buy him a drink, I’m going to ask a favor. If you want to write him a note of encouragement, pass it forward.' I grabbed a napkin. I wrote: 'You got this. Stay safe. - A dad from Row 12.' I watched as napkins traveled up the aisle. Napkins, receipts, pages torn from books. By the time we landed, the soldier had a pile of paper on his tray table three inches high. He stood up to get his bag, and he was wiping his eyes. He carefully packed every single scrap of paper into his rucksack. 'Thank you,' he told the flight attendant. 'No,' she said. 'Thank you.' We all walked off that plane a little quieter, reminded that freedom is just a word until you meet the kid who is defending it. Credit: Margie Lee