Brawl at the Airport… Over Liquid Sunshine

“You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” Mark 12:31

We arrived at the airport with plenty of time to spare, which, in travel terms, means we had exactly enough time to make our mandatory detour to gate #20. You see, our trips to visit the kids and grandkids cannot legally begin without the obligatory pastelitos and croquetas from our usual Cuban joint, Versailles. Side note: We discovered today that these words desperately need to be added to the English dictionary. We actually overheard a non-Spanish speaker order them with a heavy American accent, yet beautiful, unvarnished clarity. True hunger transcends all language barriers.

With the pastries secured, I ordered an orange juice. But just as I was getting ready to pay, a voice behind me barked, “That orange juice is mine,” and a hand snatched it away.

“No, it’s ours,” my husband countered. “We ordered one, too.”

The cashier, sensing a sudden increase in temperature at the airport food court, deftly took the juice back from the guy and scanned it with our order. The man was not having it. “That was the last orange juice! There are no more in the cooler!” he complained, looking at us like we had just stolen his firstborn.

Honestly? I was ready to surrender the OJ just to avoid a federal incident. I don’t even like orange juice. I only ordered it to wash down my morning medication—a task that is impossible for me to achieve with a scalding hot café con leche. But before a full-scale airport brawl could break out over Vitamin C, the cashier peered into the fridge. Turns out, there were plenty of orange juices left. We both got one. Crisis averted, world peace restored.

What is it about traveling that brings out the absolute worst in humanity? Combine the anxiety of TSA with the fact that on early morning flights, 90% of the population is dangerously hangry, and you have a recipe for disaster.

The airport truly is the ultimate testing ground for Christian charity. If you ever want to see how well you’re practicing the Second Commandment, just stand near a cooler at 6:00 a.m. and watch people fight over liquid sunshine.

On Sunday, I went to see the movie Sacred Heart: His Reign Has No End, and one particular sentence struck me to the core: “The world is dying from not knowing it is loved.”

I could not agree more. So much of the modern anger, anxiety, and airport-cooler hostility we see stems from a deep, aching feeling of being unloved. We frantically look for fulfillment in all the wrong places, only to come up empty-handed. Our hearts were made for God, and as St. Augustine so beautifully put it: “Our hearts are restless until they rest in You.” All the unrest we see in the world today—and yes, even the unrest in the food court terminal—happens because we have turned our backs on the One who truly loves us. We have to first receive His love before we can pass it on to others.

That brings us back to the Commandments. The famous second commandment is: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” But we often forget it comes with a prerequisite: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength.” We must love God first. If we can’t love God, who is perfect, how can we possibly love our fellow human beings, who are deeply imperfect (especially before they've had their morning coffee)? Unfortunately, society has pushed God out of the equation and still expects us to somehow be happy and kind without Him. It just doesn't work.

So, this week, let’s challenge ourselves to bring a little bit of that divine love into our everyday routines. Let us attempt to do a small, unexpected good deed for a complete stranger. It might be something as simple as letting someone cut ahead of you in bumper-to-bumper traffic, or gracefully handing over the very last orange juice in the cooler—even if you really need it to swallow your morning meds.

The smile you get in return will be worth the sacrifice. And who knows? You might just prevent an airport brawl, one act of charity at a time.

Copyright © 2026 Christy Romero. All rights reserved. If you thought of someone while reading this, bless them by sharing it with them.