In 1997, I began a new job as Lunch and Dinner Hostess in a long-time loved restaurant in a town where I grew up from the age of 10. I loved my work because customer service comes very easily to me. I just love people.
It was a simple job for the most part - except when the walls were bursting with customers.
One lunchtime on a weekday I took a businessman to the next available booth to await his friend. I treated him like I treated everyone else - with friendly courtesy and respect. The next time I spoke to him was when he was leaving. He stopped at the desk and pressed into the palm of my hand two one-dollar bills, folded neatly - the first "tip" I had ever received. Then he proceeded to tell me what qualities he saw in me that he respected, in treating everyone well and being of service to their needs. What a kind voice and kindly face. He looked at me like I was his sister. I don't really need to, but I will add that this gentleman was African-American. I will be glad when the day comes that such statements are entirely redundant; but this is meaningful to me.
There have been terrific difficult times in my life, when I barely had two pennies to rub together - but I have NEVER spent, and will never use those two one-dollar bills. Their real value to me warms my heart and reminds me of a time when no one else in my life ever said such encouraging words about my qualities, except this one person.
I thought of this tonight, as memories will sometimes flit by like a little 'bluebird of happiness', and I pray for the kind man that wherever he is that he is doing well. Surely, God knows his good works - surely, I am not the only receiver of his kindness.
That $2 I have tucked away in a box for safe remembering is worth far more to me than I can fully say. It was like a drop of water on a dry sponge. Thank you, sir.
No comments:
Post a Comment