"If passenger, John Berg, outbound for Auckland, New Zealand is still in the terminal, will he please report to Desk 23..."

Julie Berg, one of the thousands of passengers delayed at New York's J.F. Kennedy International Airport due to the biggest snowstorm through the Eastern Seaboard that January, jerked awake and frowned. She moved the sleeping head of her six-year-old sister from her lap, stared around and felt down for their hand luggage. Yes, it was tucked safely beneath their feet. Everywhere she gazed, travelers, like themselves were stranded and waiting for the snowplows to do their job so the airport could reopen.

"Daddy!" the twelve year old girl hissed and poked the well built man snoring in the seat next to her." I heard your name called out."

"What? What?" John muttered. He opened his eyes and saw Julie gazing at him with her forehead creased in a frown. "I'm sorry. I must have dropped off. What time is it sweetheart?"

"Two in the morning Daddy," Julie nodded at the unseen speaker above them. "Listen!"

John yawned and smiled at his elder daughter, a tall slim girl with an easy smile and light brown hair. She seemed to be growing every day and had already reached puberty. Dressed in a new suit and with a light touch of make up she was a young woman, not a child any more. Perhaps the events of the previous few weeks had force her into maturity before her time. He sighed and turned his attention to the continuous stream of announcements until he heard his name coming through.

"Stay here with Helen and the gear sweetheart," he said and cranked his stiff body out of the seat. "I'll go and see what they want."

"Can you get me a burger and coke, Daddy?" Julie asked. "I famished."

"Sure, sweetheart. See you soon." He grinned. Perhaps she was just a kid, after all.

John threaded his way through the huddled mass of people until he came to the almost empty airline's desk. The attendant smiled as he approached and mentioned his name.

"Yes, Mr. Berg," she began. "We can reroute you to Dallas/Fort Worth and onto an Air New Zealand flight leaving for New Zealand later this afternoon. Unless another storm comes through domestic flights for Dallas will leave JFK at first light."

John smiled. "I'll take it," he replied. "That's good news. I knew we'd missed our Qantas connection at Los Angeles."

"Great," the attendant said and tapped away at her computer. "Now, that was two adults and two children?"

"No," John replied and was about to say there were only himself and the two kids when he felt a tug on his sleeve.

He turned and noticed the intense hazel eyes of a slim woman in her sixties staring up at him. "Grandma!" he gasped. "What are you doing here? You should be home in your apartment in this weather. I told you it was useless coming to the airport to see us off." He frowned when he realized his mother-in-law was in the departure lounge? Only passengers were allowed this far in.

Fiona Reynolds' eyes misted over. "There's nobody here for me now, John, only you and the kids. I decided to follow you out. I heard your flight was delayed and managed to find you." She hesitated. "That's if you want me tagging on. If not, it is easy enough to cancel the ticket."

John stared at the moist eyes and his heart went out. Of all the people in the world, this determined woman was the one he'd want with them. The tearful goodbye and the promises to keep in touch seemed totally inadequate after the earlier decision to continue the family's emigration to New Zealand. Anne and himself had planned it over the last two years and everything had been finalized five months before.

"Oh Fiona," he replied and tucked his arms around the frail woman. "You know we want you but what of your apartment and the cat?"

"Thelma, next door has adopted Patches and as for the apartment, it is only a building. One can't live on memories, you know!"

"So my arguments did get through?" John replied.

"A stubborn old lady takes a while to see the light," Fiona retorted. "When I saw the cab drive away I had a rethink and here I am."

John grinned and turned to the attendant. "I was wrong. It is two adults and two children," he said.

"My God! Look at it Daddy," Helen gasped in astonishment as the city unfolded beneath their Boeing 747 thirty-six hours later. "You said hardly anybody lived here."

Beside a muddy estuary, thousands of houses stretched away into the distance. As the aircraft dipped and circled around for its approach to the airport, high rise buildings, topped by a gigantic tower rose in front of a second harbor, this one blue and shining in the morning light.

"We are arriving on schedule at Auckland International Airport," announced the captain over the public address system. "As you can see, the weather is fine and sunny. It is seven a.m., local time; the temperature is sixteen degrees Celsius and is expected to rise to twenty-eight degrees this afternoon. For our American passengers, that is sixty degrees Fahrenheit rising to eighty two degrees..."

"I know that," retorted Julie. "We aren't dumb."

"Most of New Zealand is in the middle of a summer drought at the moment," the voice droned on, "Please have your passports and customs declarations ready for inspection. For New Zealand citizens..." the voice continued but John had stopped listening.

He felt a twinge of excitement as a tiny hand grasped his and Helen gazed up. "I'm glad Grandma is with us Daddy," she whispered.

"I am too sweetheart." John caught his younger daughter's smiling eyes and reached up for their luggage. For better or worse, they had arrived in their new homeland. The circumstances had changed so much since he had suggested to Anne they sell their Upper New York State ranch and purchase a property in New Zealand. She was gone now, but at least the family's dreams could be fulfilled.

"Mom would have loved this view," Julie added. She tucked an arm around Helen's shoulder and used the other to squeeze her father's arm.

"Yes sweetheart," John added. "And I know this is what she would want us to do."

They watched as the aircraft turned onto a taxiway and made the final journey to the terminal building. Airports the world over all looked the same from this direction.