Friday, March 2, 2012

Day 118

“Welcome to Moe’s!”

Some days when I’m hungry I’ll go right down the street to eat.  A filling meal seasoned with extra-extra-cilantro and a friendly staff always make the visit worthwhile.

“Hey, lady!” he called when I walked through the doors.  “What would you like today?”

I always recognize him when I visit.  He is one of the few men I’ve met out who doesn’t creep me out.  As I think of him now, I wonder if maybe he has a daughter of which I remind him.  His accent is maybe Spanish, or Cuban, or even maybe something else.  There is always a kind smile on his face, and the term “lady” is used by him endearingly.  He doesn’t know my name, but he recognizes me.

As he builds my burrito, we laugh about the weather and my gracious serving of cilantro.  I wish him a great weekend, and as I continue to the register I think nothing of our interaction.

It is when I’m readying my to-go-salsa cups that he approaches me quickly, covertly, and hides a small thing of queso in my to-go-bag.

“This is for you.”

He walked away quietly, and I manage to utter, “Thank you.”  Partly quiet, because I’m not sure that action wouldn’t have cost him a demerit, but more because I’m surprised.  Simple actions can affect people in great ways.

I’m not crazy about queso from Moe’s, but I will tell you, today I looked at this small sampling of kindness as if it were a 4 carat diamond.  I felt honored. 

People need to be appreciated.  People need kindness.  And people are rarely treated this way.

Thank you.  Thank you for being kind to me.  Thank you for noticing me.  Thank you for treating me more than just someone who works a low-paying job.  Thank you for looking at me as if I deserve respect.  Thank you for looking at me as if I’m special…as if I’m worth being cared about…as if what I do matters.  Thank you for appreciating me.  Thank you for smiling at me.  Thank you for being willing to love me.


This is what that queso said to me.

And though he may have very well not thought any of that, I would argue.

I would argue that these were his thoughts, because these are the exact same thoughts I have when someone does something kind to me or for me.  I never feel more loved than in those moments of gracious compassion.  It is always a blessing.  And it is these acts that I tend to remember the most.

Don’t brush off a small act of kindness, for there is no such thing as slight when it comes to compassion.