UP IN THE CLOUDS | AUGUST 2026 - Volume 7

Sometimes you meet someone and know them for years. Other times, you only cross paths with someone briefly and see a small glimpse of their life.

It's a little like sitting beside a stranger on an airplane. You might talk for the entire flight, learn where they're going, hear something about their family or their past, and then, when the plane lands, you go your separate ways. You may never know the rest of their story.

That happens at our shop all the time.

There was a woman who occasionally walked past our building. She was deaf and homeless and lived nearby in what people around town referred to as Tent City. A few times, she stopped by the shop. Communication with her could be difficult, but my husband always seemed to understand her better than I did.

At one point, she came by with a lawn mower and offered to help with the small patch of grass in front of and along the side of our building. We paid her for the work, and whenever she stopped by during the hot Oklahoma summers, we gave her water and popsicles.

She only came by a few times to mow the grass and pick up trash, but those brief visits were enough to make her familiar to us. She would show up, do the work, talk with my husband, and eventually continue on her way.

We didn't know much about her life. We didn't know where she had come from or what she had experienced before we met her. We only knew the small part of her story that happened to cross ours.

Then winter came, and she stopped coming by.

Eventually, we learned that she had died in her tent from carbon monoxide poisoning caused by a heater she was using to stay warm.

We were surprised to learn what had happened. We had seen her around the shop a few times, mowing the grass and picking up trash. We had paid her for the work and given her water and popsicles when she stopped by. We knew only a small part of her life, but hearing that she had died was still sad.

Every person you pass has a story you know nothing about. The person sitting beside you on an airplane may be traveling to visit family, starting over, running away from something, or heading toward a life they've dreamed about for years. You may talk to them for three hours and learn only a tiny piece of what brought them there.

Then the plane lands, and you never see them again.

The same thing happens in our shop. People walk through our doors carrying entire lives that we know nothing about. Sometimes we hear a little of their story. Sometimes we hear a lot. Sometimes we only have a brief interaction that seems insignificant at the time.

But every once in a while, someone leaves an impression that lasts much longer than the time we actually knew them.

For us, she was the woman with the lawn mower. The woman who stopped by a few times to mow the grass and pick up trash, accepting water and popsicles on hot days. We never knew her entire story, but the small part we did see became part of ours.

I still think about her sometimes when I look up at the sky. I like to imagine that somewhere up there, above the clouds, she's finally warm and safe and no longer carrying the weight of whatever life had handed her.

Maybe that's a silly thing to think.

But I'd like to believe she's up there somewhere.

We never know what someone is carrying when they walk through our doors. Sometimes it's a broken motorcycle. Sometimes it's a lifetime of problems.

And sometimes, it's a life hanging in the balance.

Next month, we'll tell you about the time we saved a life.