Sitting on the plane en-route to Christchurch my iPad reading is interrupted by a discussion the guy behind me is having with the air hostess.

It relates to alcohol, of which he is requesting.

I look at my watch, it’s 9.40am.

I go back to reading ‘The Best of Adam Sharp’ by Graeme Simsion.

Later the same guy has a further discussion with the air hostess relating once again to alcohol. He wants something alcoholic, which apparently he can now, but its $9. And he seems not able to afford it. He offers cash but Jetstar only does cards. The discussion goes around in circles for a few minutes, determining what he can have and a number of repeats that he can’t use cash. He settles on a $4 soft drink, via a card.

I sneak a peek at this man. One might think he was in his thirties but it’s hard to tell, he seems quite weathered by life.

He is articulate and polite.

I wonder about his story.

What has bought him here today, on a flight to Christchurch, wanting alcohol in the morning but not being able to afford the extra $5.

Is there someone waiting at the other end?

He does have a story and it’s potentially a tough one.

Or not.

I can’t judge him.

Who knows if and when I may be in that very same position.

I go back to my book.

It’s a nice read, Melbourne based, music based. Nostalgic. I thank the Christchurch City Library for the gift of internet book borrowing from across the ditch. I have 21 days to read but I started it on Sunday and I am a quick reader.

I finish the book, not without an unexpected twist, and turn to knitting.

Finally able to progress the knitting of the baby rug, but not enough squares done to confirm that I am not a shit grandmother yet until I have in fact finished it.

Later I stand at the bus terminal and this same man is there waiting for the 29 to the City.

I thought about Uber but frankly I spent far too much in Australia, (even though I was housebound) and I actually quite like the bus, which stops a block from our house.

We board the bus and he hasn’t any NZ cash. They don’t take cards but I have a feeling that would not have helped him.

I pay his fare.

He is grateful and apologetic.

I’m not here to judge.

Everyone has a story.

Pay it forward.