A very distinguished lady was on a plane arriving from Switzerland.
She found herself seated next to a kind-looking priest. After a few polite exchanges, she leaned toward him and said quietly, “Excuse me, Father, could I ask you a favor?”
The priest smiled warmly. “Of course, my child. What can I do for you?”
She hesitated for a moment before whispering, “Here’s the problem. I bought myself a new, very sophisticated hair remover gadget — it cost me a fortune. Unfortunately, I’ve gone over the customs declaration limit, and I’m afraid they’ll confiscate it when we land. Would you… perhaps… be willing to hide it under your cassock?”
The priest raised an eyebrow. “My child, of course I could. But you must understand — I cannot tell a lie.”
The lady smiled charmingly. “Oh, Father, you have such an honest face. I’m sure they won’t even question you.”
And with that, she handed him the expensive hair remover.
When the plane landed, the passengers disembarked and made their way toward customs. The priest walked calmly to the counter, his cassock swaying gently with each step.
A customs officer, young and rather serious-looking, greeted him respectfully. “Good afternoon, Father. Do you have anything to declare?”
The priest smiled, his hands folded peacefully. “From the top of my head to my waist, I have nothing to declare.”
The officer frowned slightly, puzzled. “And from your waist down?”
The priest replied without missing a beat, “From my waist down, I have a marvelous little device that was designed for use on women, but has never been used.”
The officer, blushing furiously, waved him through immediately.
The lady, watching from behind, nearly burst out laughing when she realized what the priest had just said — technically, he hadn’t lied.
When they reached the baggage claim area, she hurried up to him, half-embarrassed, half-impressed. “Father,” she said, trying to contain her laughter, “that was brilliant! You didn’t lie — and you still got away with it.”
The priest chuckled softly. “My child, honesty and cleverness are not enemies. Sometimes the truth only needs a little… divine phrasing.”
But that’s not where the story ends.
Weeks later, the same lady — her name was Margaret — happened to visit her local parish for a charity dinner. To her surprise, she saw the same priest there, surrounded by parishioners who were hanging on his every word.
She approached him after the crowd had dispersed. “Father! Do you remember me? The lady from the plane?”
The priest’s eyes twinkled. “Ah, yes. The one who smuggled honesty into customs.”
She laughed. “You saved me that day. I’ve been telling that story to everyone. You’re a legend among my friends.”
He smiled, then added, “You know, my child, that gadget of yours started quite the conversation among the customs officers. One of them came to confession the following week. He said, ‘Father, I think I’ve been deceived by a man of the cloth!’”
Margaret gasped. “Oh no! You didn’t get in trouble, did you?”
“Not at all,” the priest said. “I simply told him the truth — that temptation comes in many forms. Sometimes it looks like gold, sometimes it looks like… grooming equipment.”
They both laughed.
A few months later, fate played another trick.
Margaret’s business took her back to Switzerland for another trip. On her return flight — by pure coincidence — she found herself seated next to the same priest once again.
“Father Shane!” she exclaimed. “Of all the flights in the world…”
He smiled warmly. “It seems Heaven enjoys reunions, my child.”
Margaret grinned. “Well, you’ll be pleased to know I’ve learned my lesson. No smuggling this time.”
“Good to hear,” he said, sipping his tea. “My cassock appreciates the break.”
The flight was long, and as they chatted, she opened up about her life — how she’d been lonely since her husband passed, how her children rarely visited, and how she’d been trying to find purpose again.
The priest listened kindly. “Sometimes,” he said, “purpose finds us in the most unexpected places — like an airplane seat beside a stranger.”
Margaret smiled faintly. “You always know what to say.”
When they landed, the priest helped her with her luggage. But as they walked toward customs, the officer suddenly waved Margaret aside.
“Ma’am, random inspection, please.”
Margaret sighed and looked helplessly at Father Shane. “See? It’s karma for that first trip.”
The priest smiled mischievously. “Would you like me to hold anything for you again?”
She burst out laughing. “No, Father. Not this time.”
As she was checked, the officer found nothing suspicious — but did find something she hadn’t noticed: a small envelope tucked in her handbag.
Confused, she opened it. Inside was a note.
“Dear child,
If you’re reading this, it means I’m still looking out for you. Inside the envelope is a donation receipt — in your name — for the orphanage in Bern.
Sometimes, helping others is the best way to clear your conscience.
— Father Shane”
Margaret felt her eyes sting. She turned to look for him, but he had already disappeared into the crowd — just like before.
Later, when she called the orphanage, the staff confirmed that an anonymous donor had contributed under her name. The funds would go toward education for children without families.
Years passed, but she never forgot that priest.
She eventually began volunteering, spending her weekends helping children in need. And every Christmas, she donated a small amount to the same orphanage, always signing the note: “For the little ones. — From the woman who learned honesty the hard way.”
One morning, she received a letter from the parish. It was written by another priest.
“Dear Mrs. Margaret,
I regret to inform you that Father Shane passed away peacefully last week. Among his belongings was a small wooden box labeled ‘To Margaret.’
Inside was your first plane ticket, a customs form, and a note that simply read:
‘Sometimes, a single act of mischief can lead to a lifetime of meaning. Thank you for the laughter, and for finding the light I hoped you’d share.’”
She wept as she read it.
From a mischievous smuggling request to a lifelong lesson about honesty, kindness, and redemption — that chance encounter had changed both their lives forever.
And though he was gone, she could still hear his gentle voice in her heart:
“My child, honesty may not always be the easiest path… but it’s always the one that sets you free.”
