Goodable

This restaurant in New York City has no chefs. To cook in this kitchen, there's only one requirement: you must be a grandmother. When Joe opened up this restaurant almost 20 years ago, his mother and sister had just passed away. He was full of grief. But then. he started inviting grandmothers into his kitchen. And it changed everything. Thank you Enoteca Maria Restaurant! Made possible with the support of Ontario Creates.

<p>This restaurant in New York City has no chefs. To cook in this kitchen, there's only one requirement: you must be a grandmother. When Joe opened up this restaurant almost 20 years ago, his mother and sister had just passed away. He was full of grief. But then. he started inviting grandmothers into his kitchen. And it changed everything. Thank you Enoteca Maria Restaurant! Made possible with the support of Ontario Creates.<br></p>

This New York Kitchen is Run By Grandmothers!

ABC News

An ordinary school morning turned into a life-saving moment when two young siblings in Ohio jumped into action after their school bus driver suffered a medical emergency.

Catrina, 8, and her older brother Charlie, 14, were on board their Crestview Local Schools bus in Ashland last week when Catrina, sitting near the front, noticed something was wrong.

She asked the driver if she was OK. The driver silently shook her head no.

Catrina immediately rushed to the back of the bus to alert her brother. Charlie, a seventh grader, didn’t hesitate. He grabbed the bus radio and called the school for help.

“When I realized that something was going on, [I] went up there and grabbed the radio and then called the school because I knew that that was the quickest way to get help,” Charlie told ABC affiliate WEWS.

Their quick thinking was captured on the school bus’s onboard video camera, which was later shared by the district.

Despite their young age, the siblings remained composed. “My brother ... on the inside when something's going wrong, he's scared but on the outside, he's like calm and concentrated,” Catrina told WEWS.

Crestview Local Schools Superintendent Jim Grubbs praised not only Catrina and Charlie, but also another student—eighth grader Kali—who instructed other students to move toward the back of the bus and called 911.

“These students were truly outstanding,” Grubbs said in a statement. “They remained calm, communicated clearly, and helped one another in a situation that could have been much worse. Their families should be incredibly proud.”

The driver was taken to hospital and later released. She told school officials she had made a point of teaching students how to use the bus radio, and was relieved they remembered.

A backup driver arrived to finish the route and take the students safely to school.

“I feel proud and happy with myself and happy that we got [the driver] all better now,” Catrina said.

Ohio Siblings, Ages 8 and 14, Help Save School Bus Driver During Medical Emergency

Sunny Skyz

What started as a regular high school basketball game in Cabot, Arkansas turned into a fight for survival when referee Nosakhere Holcomb collapsed on the court from sudden cardiac arrest.

Holcomb was officiating a girls junior varsity game in November when he began to feel lightheaded during the second quarter.

“I’m standing there and I start feeling a little bit dizzy,” he recalled. “And I remember saying to myself, okay at halftime you’re going to need to eat something and drink some water.”

He never made it to halftime.

Holcomb collapsed on the floor in front of players, coaches, and fans. His heart had stopped.

“They saw me die, during a basketball game,” he said.

From the stands, Cabot High School athletic trainer Jennifer Asberry-Mathis sprinted onto the court, joined by several parents with medical backgrounds. One of them was Denise Hicks, a nurse and mother of one of the players. She immediately began chest compressions while others rushed to retrieve the school’s automated external defibrillator (AED).

“You never think it’s going to happen to you,” Asberry-Mathis said. “You train for it and you pray it never happens—and it did.”

Holcomb was shocked with the AED and his pulse returned before he was rushed to hospital.

“Whatever they did is what allowed me to be taken to the hospital and make it to the CCU, and get a stent put in my heart,” Holcomb said. “None of that’s possible if those nurses aren’t here, if that woman isn’t there to take care of me. If those parents aren’t here, I’m not here.”

Doctors discovered he had a 99 percent blockage in his main artery. He now lives with a heart stent and a monitor.

Nurse Denise Hicks said the scene was tense and uncertain.

“Whenever we saw him on the court and were taking care of him on the court, we weren’t sure what was going to happen,” she said.

Fellow nurse and parent Katie Boyd said seeing Holcomb after the fact was overwhelming. “Watching the video was definitely emotional, but very happy and blessed that his life isn’t finished here on earth,” she said.

Weeks later, Holcomb returned to the Cabot High School gym, walking through a tunnel of cheering students and staff. He was reunited with the people who saved his life.

In Nigeria’s Edo language, the name Nosakhere can mean “God stands by me.” For Holcomb, that meaning came to life on a high school basketball court.

“Basketball saved my life,” he said. “Basketball literally saved my life.”

Referee Reunites With Heroes Who Saved His Life After Cardiac Arrest During Game

At 94, Doreen Freeland is back doing what she’s always loved—digging in the dirt, surrounded by animals, and chatting with neighbours. She might not be on a farm in wartime Britain anymore, but she’s found something close at The Village Langley, a care facility designed specifically for people with dementia.

“It was fun sometimes, but it was a bit hard other times when everything's frosty and you got to pick those sprouts,” she says, remembering her years as a “land girl” during the Second World War, when women were recruited to keep farms running while men went off to fight.

Freeland now spends her Thursdays at The Village, southeast of Vancouver, where she gardens, feeds chickens, and bonds with goats. “The goats are quite something,” she says. “I prefer animals to people if it comes to that."

Diagnosed with dementia about five years ago, she left Nova Scotia to live with her daughter, Gail Deyle, who became her full-time caregiver. Though Freeland is also legally blind, she’s never stopped being active. “She told me once that if she can't play in the dirt, she doesn't want to be around,” says Deyle.

They both credit The Village for keeping Freeland engaged and energetic. “If we miss a Thursday, I'm in trouble,” Deyle laughs. “She gets perky every time she visits.”

The Village Langley is built to feel like a small town, not a medical institution. Set on five acres, it includes six cottage-style homes for full-time residents, a general store, a café, a hair salon, a woodworking shop, and a barn. Opened in 2019, it now houses about 75 residents.

Elroy Jespersen, co-founder of The Village, spent 30 years working in traditional seniors’ homes before deciding something had to change.

“I noticed this one group of people who struggled no matter what we did and it was people who were living with dementia,” he says. “Typically, what people would do to try to keep them safe is lock them inside a unit floor or something. I thought that's not a good way to live.”

Jespersen drew inspiration from dementia villages and “green care farms” in the Netherlands, where care is combined with outdoor activities and animal interaction. “No matter what limitations we have or what cognitive or physical disabilities we have, we all want to live our own best life,” he says. “Sometimes there is dignity in risk.”

So far, The Village Langley is the only place of its kind in Canada, though a similar project exists in Comox, B.C. Now, researchers at Simon Fraser University and McMaster University are studying the model to understand its impact—and whether it can be replicated more widely.

Professor Habib Chaudhury, who is co-leading the research, says the approach aligns with existing evidence. “Quality of life that includes greater mobility, reduced number of falls, resulted in better sleep, lower depression,” he says, listing the benefits seen in similar models in Europe.

But most long-term care in Canada still looks and feels institutional. “Long corridor, rooms on both sides,” Chaudhury says. “Very few have outdoor spaces that people can actually go and spend time in. Quite often, we sacrifice quality of life for the sake of safety.”

Starting in 2026, researchers will spend time at The Village interviewing residents, families, and staff while tracking changes in sleep, mood, and engagement. “The research team’s goal is to provide evidence that can inform future policy,” says Chaudhury, “to promote and implement innovative approaches in long-term care that will create a normalized and naturally rich, supportive care community.”

Still, there’s a catch—cost. Living full-time at The Village Langley runs between $10,000 and $13,000 a month, and currently there is no government funding. “Right now this is all done privately,” Jespersen says.

He hopes the research will lead to broader public support and funding. But experts caution that while the model shows promise, it’s not a cure.

“It’s not going to prevent them from getting worse,” says Dr. Howard Chertkow, a cognitive neurologist at Baycrest Health Sciences in Toronto. But he agrees the environment brings together key factors known to help: social contact, movement, and time outdoors. Still, he says public funding will depend on clear data. “We’re really going to need evidence, good evidence of what is effective. We don’t want just wishful thinking that a program is going to help.”

For Chertkow, prevention remains the most cost-effective strategy. “With exercise, with social stimulation, with better control of blood pressure … there are a number of things that can probably prevent up to half of the cases of dementia.”

More than 770,000 Canadians are living with dementia, according to the Alzheimer Society of Canada. That number could climb to 1 million by 2030 and 1.7 million by 2050. And stigma still plays a role in isolating those who are diagnosed.

“If you're not being invited to things, you're not being out there,” says Dave Spedding, CEO of the Alzheimer Society of Toronto. “Isolation is really the enemy of the dementia journey.”

Spedding says approaches that reduce isolation benefit both patients and caregivers. For Deyle, The Village has helped her mother stay connected—to people, animals, and the earth.

“They seem to cater to just about everything that I like,” says Freeland, shovel in hand, surrounded by goats and friends. “Gail is quite pleased to leave me here and have a breather every now and again.”

Canadian Care Facility Offers Innovative Village for Dementia Patients

For several families in Dinwiddie County, Virginia, Christmas arrived just in time — thanks to a sheriff’s deputy who refused to let their holiday deliveries go missing.

Sgt. Terrell Coles was on patrol near the town of McKenney last week when he spotted a group of packages sitting unattended by the side of the road. They were near a set of mailboxes, but something didn’t add up.

“The addresses on the packages didn’t match the mailbox numbers nearby,” Coles told WTRV.

After securing the packages in his patrol car, Coles contacted FedEx to report the issue. A manager assured him that someone would come to collect the abandoned items. But days passed, and no one showed up.

So, Coles made a decision.

“At that point I took off my Sheriff’s Office hat and put on my Santa hat,” he said.

The deputy began hand-delivering the packages himself.

One of his first stops was Olivia Davis’s home. She was stunned when Coles arrived at her door with a box she had long given up on.

“I had actually given up on the package,” Davis said.

For Coles, it was a simple act of service — and the right thing to do, especially so close to the holidays.

“I know how I would feel if I ordered something and it didn’t get here on time,” he said. “One thing about police work is, you wear many different hats. And this is just another hat.”

In this case, it was a Santa hat — and for the families who were sure their packages were gone for good, the deputy’s unexpected knock on the door brought more than just a delivery. It brought back a bit of holiday magic.

Deputy Turns Santa After Finding Abandoned Packages on Patrol, Delivers All of Them

With glitter on his hooves, a Santa hat perched between his ears, and a bowtie to complete the look, Pascal isn’t your average therapy animal. But the tiny nine-year-old horse has become a breakout star at care homes across Quebec — charming residents, sparking memories, and offering emotional comfort as part of a growing animal therapy program.

“He has lots of character,” said owner Anne Caroline Coutu. “The capacity to connect with people, heart to heart, as we call it. Seeing him is sort of magical.”

Pascal is one of about 50 animals that rotate through the therapy visits run by Toutous Poilus, the animal animation organization Coutu launched in 2010. The group brings guinea pigs, doves, cats, rabbits, dogs — and Pascal — to long-term care homes, hospitals, and residences. They now run 10 to 12 sessions a week across Quebec’s Eastern Townships and the Montreal area.

At Wales Home, a care facility in Cleveland, Que., about 150 kilometres east of Montreal, Pascal’s recent visit turned heads and warmed hearts.

Polly McClure Gifford said seeing the little horse clip-clop up the hallway took her back to her childhood on a family farm.

“She wanted that pony to come in the house and sit and eat with us,” she said, laughing as she remembered her sister’s attachment to a childhood pony. “It brings back memories.”

Those moments are exactly why the animals are so welcome, says Lysanne Hamel, activities coordinator at Wales Home. “We’re out in the country here and most of them lived on a farm… so it’s kind of like grieving too, when they move in and have to leave animals behind,” she said. “To be able to see them again, pet them — it brings back good memories and time spent at home.”

Hamel was so inspired by the program, she even wrote a picture book about the animal troupe. Lily Courtepointe, named after one of Toutous Poilus’ guinea pigs, was published in the fall, with illustrations by her neighbour.

Pascal, however, remains the scene-stealer.

Jean Coates, a new resident at Wales Home, admitted she wasn’t an animal lover — until that day.

“But I might change after today,” she laughed, as a grey dove calmly sat on her head and a chicken nestled on the table in front of her. “I just can’t get over that,” she said, pointing at a bird perched motionlessly on Pascal’s rear end.

Training Pascal to be that calm and collected took time. Coutu, who won him on a Quebec game show in 2016, began training him soon after to adapt to what she calls “urban stressors” — sights and sounds that could spook animals. She desensitized him by dressing him up and taking him into noisy, high-traffic areas, preparing him for visits to hospitals and care homes.

Pascal is potty trained — an essential qualification for any therapy animal going indoors — and is rewarded with back scratches and treats. But he also gets breaks. “I respect his boundaries,” said Coutu, who ensures Pascal gets time off to rest at home.

The idea for Toutous Poilus came after Coutu witnessed the comfort animals provided to her father during his Alzheimer’s diagnosis. Since then, the organization has grown significantly, powered by volunteers like Annie Lavariere, who help with everything from grooming and transport to vet care.

Lavariere says the impact is worth every bit of effort.

“Animals don’t judge,” she said. “Whether you’re rich or poor, whether you're in health or not, the animals just don’t care.”

And at the heart of it all is Pascal — glittery hooves, bowtie, and all — proving that therapy can come on four tiny legs.

Pascal the Mini Horse Brings Joy, Laughter, and a Bit of Magic to Quebec Care Homes

BBC News

At 77, Alexandra Pickford is still taking curtain calls.

The veteran ballet dancer, who began her training at the Bristol School of Dancing when she was just 11, is now preparing to tour a new stage production across southwest England in 2026. And while most of her peers long ago stepped away from the stage, Pickford is still dancing — and now directing — with a passion that refuses to fade.

“It is wonderful to succeed in my profession at this age,” she said. “Older people have something to give — all our life experience — but also something to learn.”

Pickford’s career began at the prestigious Royal Ballet School in London, part of the Royal Academy of Dancing. After graduating, she toured internationally as a soloist, performing ballet across multiple continents. Later, she became a fitness teacher, before officially retiring at 60.

But theatre was never far from her mind.

Not long after stepping back, she found herself missing the stage. During the COVID lockdown, Pickford took a leap and founded her own theatre company. “We did a very successful production which toured to the Edinburgh Fringe and sold out Bristol and theatres in Somerset,” she said.

Now, her company is working on a new play based on the life of Vesta Tilly, a trailblazing male impersonator and vaudeville star from the Victorian era. The show is set to premiere in March 2026, with performances planned across the south west.

Despite her long background in ballet, Pickford says acting is still relatively new terrain.

“I had to learn to speak on stage — I’m a four-year-old actor,” she said with a laugh. “My physical powers are failing, that’s very difficult as a dancer. I suffer after performances. Then I get up and do it again.”

Her determination has not gone unnoticed. Actor Chris Harris-Beechey, who has worked closely with Pickford for years, said her presence on stage is rare — and important.

“There’s fewer parts for older women, older people in general, but definitely older women,” he said. “That’s one of the things I love about the play — it’s showing that you never have to stop.”

“If there’s something you enjoy doing and you’re passionate about, there’s no point in letting yourself age out of that. There’ll always be a way for you to keep doing that.”

Pickford agrees. “It’s wonderful for such an old lady to go back to beginnings,” she said.

And she’s not finished yet.

Ballet Icon, 77, Says She's Thriving Thanks to Her New Theatre Company Tour

For the first time since 1817, the historic Forest of Dean is growing. Forestry England has launched a major reforestation project that will see 120,000 trees planted across an 88-hectare site near Berry Hill in Gloucestershire this winter.

The expansion marks a significant milestone for the centuries-old woodland, which has long been managed through cycles of harvesting and replanting, but never extended beyond its traditional borders — until now.

Tom Brockington, area manager for Forestry England, called the move “very significant,” noting that between 1,000 and 1,500 trees are being planted each day on the newly acquired Hoarthorn's Farm, purchased in late 2024.

“This is the first expansion in over 200 years,” Brockington said. “It’s about more than just planting trees. It’s about supporting wildlife, preparing for climate change, and creating long-term resilience in the landscape.”

The site, covering 217 acres, has undergone extensive geological and soil surveys to identify which tree species are most likely to thrive in each section. That data is also being used to support biodiversity and animal movement.

“Biodiversity requires a buffering of established wildlife hotspots,” Brockington explained. “We want to be able to create those linkages where animals can move between established woodland and other established woodland… so we’ve chosen trees that support that transfer of species.”

The mix of tree species is a deliberate hedge against future threats, including disease and shifting climate conditions. Forestry England is even looking to western France — where the current climate closely resembles what southern England may experience in 40 to 50 years — to guide its choices.

“We need to be thinking about which trees might be drought susceptible or resilient,” Brockington said. “Having a wide variety of species means that if one is hit by disease, others will survive and continue to provide canopy cover and habitat.”

The site’s central area will be left as pasture, grazed by cattle during the winter months to maintain a diverse landscape. This open space will also help balance ecological goals with the cultural heritage of the area, which has long included both woodland and farmland.

The goal is to have all 120,000 trees in the ground by the end of March 2026.

As forests around the UK grapple with the pressures of disease, development, and climate change, the Forest of Dean’s long-overdue expansion is a rare and hopeful chapter — one that looks 200 years back while planning 50 years ahead.

Forestry England Begins Historic Expansion With 120,000 Trees Planted In Forest Of Dean

CNN TRAVEL

In the shadow of Notre Dame, just steps from the water’s edge, a centuries-old tradition continues — one book at a time.

For nearly 500 years, Paris’ bouquinistes — the iconic second-hand booksellers lining the banks of the Seine — have been part of the city’s cultural heartbeat. Now, facing competition from online retailers, rising digital distractions, and even the 2024 Olympic Games, they’re doing what they’ve always done: adapting, connecting, and persisting.

“This is my life. It’s not just a job,” said 76-year-old Sylvia Brui, who sells old books from a stall on Quai de Conti. “We sell things that we love.”

Brui is one of around 230 licensed bouquinistes whose green metal boxes stretch for three kilometers along the river, forming what is arguably the world’s largest open-air bookstore. From vintage paperbacks to rare engravings, stamps, and old postcards, the stalls are a haven for collectors, students, and curious passersby.

The tradition dates back to 1550, when a few vendors first set up on Île de la Cité. It grew quickly after the 1606 construction of the Pont Neuf, which offered a rare expanse of open space in the dense medieval city. By the early 1900s, Paris standardized the look of the stalls — low, hinged boxes painted "wagon green" to preserve views of the Seine. Today, bouquinistes operate rent-free but under strict city oversight: a five-year permit, minimum four days a week of operation (weather permitting), and a catalog focused on second-hand books and printed collectibles.

"You must show your commitment to books," said Jérôme Callais, president of the Association Culturelle des Bouquinistes de Paris. “It’s not surprising that the majority of booksellers are over 50 — about 80% of them.”

But the new generation is starting to make its mark.

Six years ago, 35-year-old Camille Goudeau opened her own stall on Quai de l’Hôtel de Ville, specializing in science fiction and fantasy. She aims to draw in new readers with low prices and a casual vibe.

“I deal in inexpensive second-hand books to encourage people who don’t read, or read very little, to read again,” she said.

Goudeau tells the story of a woman in her thirties who once bought her first book — The Old Man and the Sea — from Goudeau’s stall. “Later, she read Joyce. Now she goes to bookstores,” Brui added.

Ozan Yigitkeskin, 52, joined the bouquiniste ranks more recently, after a career in online bookselling and journalism. His first job? Selling books from a bicycle in Istanbul at age 15. Now, he sells multilingual titles on the Seine. “I know how fragile small bookshops can be,” he said. “That’s a problem I won’t have here.”

Despite the challenges — long hours outdoors, exposure to the elements, modest incomes — most bouquinistes wouldn’t trade the job for anything.

“I don’t like being stuck indoors,” said Goudeau. “And I find it hard to work for someone else. Being a bookseller allows me to be completely independent.”

The human connection is key, she added. “It’s a very direct way of connecting with people. The stalls are a refuge for some — it’s their daily walk, their only daily interaction.”

That sense of community resonates with customers, too. Literature student Laura Contreras, 26, visits the stalls regularly to hunt for philosophical texts. “There’s historic value; each item has its own story,” she said. Fellow visitor Marie-Samuelle Klein, 23, loves the tactile experience: “I like books when they’re old — their smell. There’s something symbolic about it, knowing that many people have read it before me.”

Not even the Paris Olympics could dislodge the bouquinistes. When city organizers proposed temporarily removing the stalls for the 2024 opening ceremony on the Seine, a public backlash forced them to back down.

Callais said the episode proved how deeply Parisians value the stalls. “Here there is eye-to-eye communication between human beings,” he said. “We provide an oasis of humanity and culture.”

Each year, concerns about the future of the bouquinistes resurface. But as Goudeau put it, “People always say, ‘Oh my God, it’s terrible, the booksellers are dying out.’ But in fact, we’re still here. And I hope we’ll be here for a long time to come.”

How a Historic Paris Book Market is Thriving Amid Digital Age Challenges

People

Scott Lee was running out of time.

The Colorado man, who has battled the rare autoimmune disease Goodpasture syndrome for two decades, had already endured more than most: a coma, failed transplants, multiple surgeries, and years of dialysis. But just before the holidays, he received what he calls a “Christmas miracle” — a life-saving kidney transplant.

“I was down to my last couple of hours,” Lee told CBS affiliate KKTV. “They had already brought a chaplain in on the phone.”

Lee’s condition had deteriorated to the point where only a kidney from a living donor could save him. But the odds were steep. With less than a 1% chance of finding a match, and neither of his two sons viable as donors, hope was slipping away fast.

That’s when a longtime friend from church, Julie McVicker, stepped in.

“I had to try,” McVicker said. She wasn’t a match, but she found another way to help. By donating her kidney to someone else through a paired donation program, McVicker earned Lee a living donor voucher — giving him priority access to a compatible kidney.

“She gave up a body part for me, and in turn I got a body part from somebody else,” Lee said. “It was literally a Christmas miracle.”

Lee recently underwent a successful transplant and is now recovering. He’s grateful for the extra time — especially with his granddaughters.

“I’m so happy that I get to watch my granddaughters grow up,” he said. “I was worried I wasn’t going to get to.”

His story is one of unrelenting struggle. Diagnosed in 2005 at age 37, Lee has lived with Goodpasture syndrome, a rare condition where the immune system attacks the kidneys and lungs. According to the Mayo Clinic, the disorder causes the body to produce antibodies that mistakenly target collagen in those organs, leading to inflammation and, if untreated, organ failure.

In 2020, after six years on the transplant list, Lee finally received a kidney — only for it to be removed a month later due to complications. He contracted COVID-19 during recovery, and doctors later found the kidney was covered in fungus.

The next two years were brutal. He fought off the infection while undergoing a string of operations that included partial amputation of his right foot, a total hip replacement, arterial bypass surgery, and the placement of tubes and drains throughout his body. “I lost the front half of my foot, then it went to my hip, lost my hip,” he said.

Through it all, he never gave up — and neither did his family. A construction worker and outdoorsman at heart, Lee credits his wife for being his rock.

“My wife is an absolute angel for all she has done for me and the things she has sacrificed,” he wrote on his National Kidney Registry profile.

Now, with a new kidney and a fresh lease on life, Lee is focused on recovery, gratitude — and staying close to McVicker.

“We are supposed to take care of each other,” he said. “When you have that opportunity, you need to do it. I was lucky I got to. And now she’s part of the family whether she likes it or not. She’s stuck with us.”

Colorado Man Receives 'Christmas Miracle Kidney' After Autoimmune Disease Left Him Near Death

A toddler’s in-flight clean-up mission has captured hearts across the internet — and changed one mom’s entire perspective on flying.

Lydia Bakker, just 2 ½ years old, went viral after helping out a Delta Air Lines crew during a recent flight to visit family for Thanksgiving. What started as a nervous travel day turned into an unforgettable experience, thanks to one kind flight attendant and a curious toddler eager for a job.

“Our Delta flight attendant noticed our toddler needed a job, now all she talks about is ‘I picked [up] all the garbage,’” Lydia’s mom, Becca Bakker, wrote in a TikTok post that quickly racked up views. In the video, Lydia is seen confidently walking down the aisle of a Delta jet, bag in hand, politely asking passengers if they had any trash.

Flight attendant Terry Grant can be heard gently guiding her. “Turn to the other side,” she says. “Say, ‘trash, please.’”

The response online was immediate. Viewers praised Lydia’s “lil smirk” and the confidence she showed. Even Delta’s official TikTok chimed in: “Teamwork makes the dream work, even at 30,000 ft 😉👏.”

Becca, a self-described nervous flyer, said she boarded the flight from Minnesota with a bit of anxiety. She and her husband Jordan had packed plenty of toys and distractions for their toddler. But once they took their seats near the back of the plane, something unexpected happened — Lydia and Grant hit it off.

“They connected immediately,” Becca told PEOPLE. “Throughout the flight, Terry kept checking on us and chatting with Lydia. She even gave her a pair of Delta wings.”

Grant, who’s worked as a flight attendant for nearly four decades, said Lydia reminded her of her own daughter, who now works as a TV anchor.

“I would use the word captivating to describe your daughter,” Grant told Becca. “She hugged me with her heart, and she kept pulling me back to her every time I walked by. She would just captivate me.”

It wasn’t the first time Grant had asked a child to help clean up, but it had been a while. Lydia, she said, was more than happy to jump in.

“She was so brave,” Grant said. “You could see how proud she was.”

Passengers quickly got into the spirit too. Some even tore their trash into smaller pieces just to give Lydia more to collect.

“It was like everything came together in this magical synchronicity that caused this wonderful moment to happen,” Grant said. “It was perfectly orchestrated without it being rehearsed. It was just authentic and pure.”

For Becca, the moment did more than just go viral — it reshaped how she sees flying.

“This experience completely changed my perspective,” she said. “It’s not such a scary thing for me anymore. The flight home was a completely different experience because of Terry and Lydia. I learned it’s a space where community can be built and exciting memories can be shared with a whole cabin of people.”

As for Lydia? She’s still proudly talking about her job in the sky.

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