The chair by baggage claim.

Yesterday I was at the airport. As you may or may not know, I grew up - and when I say "grew up", I mean I spent the majority of my elementary school years - in South Carolina and made many friends that I now follow on Instagram. So two kids from families in my ward in SC were coming out to good old Utah to go to EFY (Especially for Youth, it's a church camp) so my mom and I were kind enough to go pick them up at the airport.

Since these two strapping young boys are minors, my mom got a free pass through security to go meet them at the gate. Our conversation with the man at the ticketing counter where she had to obtain that free pass went something like this:

• Mother: So I'm picking up my friends' kids and they said I'm supposed to come here to be able to go through security..?
• Ticket Man: Okay, what flight and what are their names and your name?
• Mother: (Tells him, he gets confused, figures it out, etc.)
• Ticket Man: (Gestures to me) Is she going with you?
• Mother: If she can, she will, but if not that's fine.
• Ticket Man: Well we usually don't allow it, but I can make an exception. (Looks at me) How old are you?
• Me: Nineteen.
• Ticket Man: Okay I can't make an exception. I thought you were quite a bit younger than that.

This is the part when I got super offended, told Ticket Man he could shove it up his you-know-what, and stalked away muttering "people these days" under my breath. Not really. I just smiled and laughed and went to sit in a chair by baggage claim.

The chair by baggage claim is where the magic happened. I sat down on that black, worn out, yet surprisingly comfortable leather, folded my legs under me, and proceeded to text my friend Mike to pass the time. However, I had the good fortune to sit down by a family that had a couple of cute little kids that came over to say hi to me, which caused me to look up just in time to see another family come down the escalator, fresh off a plane.

This wasn't just any family, though. From where I was sitting I could make out the black name tags on the front of the father's suit and the mother's blouse. I had just enough time to deduce that oh, this was probably a mission president and his family coming home, before they were attacked by the crowd of people waiting at the bottom of the escalator. As I watched the many tearful hugs shared by loved ones reunited, I myself even got a little emotional. It was so beautiful and so perfect.

When everyone had finally been hugged and kissed, the whole group got together to take a picture. Keep in mind, this family didn't blend into the crowd. There were probably about thirty people there, all dressed up and carrying balloons and signs. So this was when I turned my attention to the other people passing by. Everyone coming off the escalator was staring, and I saw more than a few people crack a smile when they realized what the situation was and saw the happiness this family was radiating. I even witnessed one girl stop and take a picture of her own with her phone, and then keep walking as if she didn't just document the homecoming of random strangers.

Basically, the half hour I spent sitting in the chair by baggage claim made a huge impact on me. While I have always wanted balloons and signs (or maybe a boy with open arms and a heart-shaped pizza) at the airport when I come home from a long trip, it wasn't jealousy that I felt. I truly was touched by the love and raw emotion I witnessed. Tears of joy are the best kind.

It makes me happy to know that for every farewell, there has to be a homecoming.