It was the most amazing, beautiful moment of my life, but it meant nothing to my family.

We were picking up my mother from an airport, one in Richmond. It was a two hour trip, and it was around nine at night. I was very sleepy, so I leaned patiently up against the car window.

Because I am the tallest of my siblings, or, of the triplets I should say, I sat in the front seat. My father was quietly driving through the night, despite his occasional jokes. It was cold, and my brother and sister, in the backseat, were both cuddled in a blanket, complaining of the temperature.

I was mesmerized in the beautiful, bright stars that whizzed by in the night sky. They were really the only thing to look at, because we were driving through a large amount of wood on the highway. That's all that's in Virginia, trees.

I've never been out of my state, except for when I was a bay, so I am amazed whenever I see something new. After about half of an hour, we came across a town, almost like a city. It was tiny, but amazing! The entire place was lit up like Las Vegas, but had the comfy, warm and fuzzy feeling of a nearby mall.

Even the Wal-Mart glowed, which I thought was kind of pretty. I've always imagined what it would be like to just live alone, only go out at night, and to constantly do things like shop in a lit-up metro world. We passed by restaurants and other businesses, which were all as gorgeous as the previous one.

Finally, we pulled into the town, which also looked as big as a city, where the airport was. It too was lit up, but not as much as the next one. There was a huge, twirling bridge that we had to ride in for a few minutes before we reached the other side, where the airport sat, waiting for us.

The airport, too, was in lack of a better word, fabulous. It was teeny-tiny, but the way it was lit up, now at midnight, made it look so huge! The towers of parked cars glinted as they seemed to grow.

We parked our car, and got out at the bottom of one of the towers. The tasty, fresh, cold night air hit me like the wave at a beach that had hit me when I was five, one that had knocked me to the ground. Although I didn't like my mother being away for a week, I couldn't help but smile at the strange, new feeling that had overwhelmed me.

Plains took off overhead as we walked across two streets that were simply built into the airport, where busses crossed. I grinned tiredly as lots of people, lovers, family members, and college kids all ran to hug one another. The clear, glass doors opened, and we walked in.

Sleepy, yet happy people walked around, gathering luggage and finding the people that they too were looking for. We took a "fun" escalator up to another small floor, which looked bigger to me. We sat down in a room with lots of big, blue seats and waited for about thirty more minutes.

When I saw my mom come around the corner, pulling luggage, my heart skipped a beat. My siblings ran to hug her, and she didn't waste any time to hug them. I walked slowly to her, and then hugged her as well. She smelled like flowers, like she always does.

Tears, happy ones, poured down my face like rain down an umbrella. I wiped them away before she could see them, and no one has ever known that. My dad hugged her too, which is a rare thing.

That night, we all happily rode home together, as a family. I tried to stay awake in order to see the tiny, yet big town that I'd seen before, but I wasn't able to. I've only seen that place one other time, and it was for the same reason. I don't think I'll ever see it again, so, for now, it remains my own, beautiful, Cheer-up City, because whenever I'm crying, I go there in my metro mind, and watch the buildings pass by in my burgundy Cadillac.