Always be a little kinder than necessary.
~J. M. Barrie
My husband Dan and I were just finishing breakfast at a bustling diner when a young soldier, his wife and their two school-aged children were seated at the table next to us. As soon as they all sat down, the woman dipped into her purse and opened a small blue wallet.
“Eighteen,” she said softly to her husband after carefully counting out the bills inside. “And about another two in quarters and dimes.”
He nodded silently and then began going over the menu, reading off food selections to the children.
“They have bacon and eggs,” he told the little ones. “Blueberry muffins, French toast, cinnamon rolls, silver-dollar pancakes . . .”
“What are those?” asked the girl, who appeared to be about seven years old.
“They’re mini-pancakes,” her mother responded. “Just like regular ones only smaller.”
“That’s what I want!” the tyke declared excitedly.
“Me, too!” her little brother chimed in.
When the waitress came, the kids ordered the silver-dollar pancakes while their parents requested scrambled eggs and sausage, his with a side of hash browns.
“We can add fresh strawberries and whipped cream to the pancakes for only $1.99 extra per order,” the server offered.
Both children squealed in excitement.
“Ooh! Can we get strawberries, puh-leeeeeeeze?”
Mother and father exchanged an uneasy look.
“Sure,” the man spoke up. “They’ll both have the strawberries, but I’m rethinking my order . . . Can you just bring me some coffee for now?”
“Same for me,” Mom said. “We’ll take another look at the menu, but can you go ahead and get their food going?”
“Of course,” the waitress smiled. “I’ll put that order in and be back in a few minutes to check on you two.”
When the server walked away, the couple looked at the menus again, weighing their options. The soldier suggested they split something, but his wife said she would just get toast or a muffin so he could enjoy a real meal, reminding him he had a full day ahead. Though they spoke in hushed tones, we couldn’t help but overhear them in the crowded space. As the two were conducting their deliberations, our waitress brought us our check and indicated we should pay at the front counter.
Dan and I got up and began making our way to the cashier to settle the bill. On the way, he stopped me and whispered, “We should help those two get a decent breakfast. It’s the least we can do for a family that’s serving the country.”
“I know, but how can we do that without embarrassing them?” I asked. “What if we offer them money and they refuse? That might make things worse.”
Dan thought for a moment, and then came up with an idea. At the register, he handed the cashier our check and asked if she could also add in a $25 restaurant gift card.
“After we leave, can you have someone take it over to that family?” he asked, discreetly pointing out their table.
“Sure,” the cashier responded. “Whose birthday is it? I have a clown card if it’s one of the kids, or one with candles and a cake if it’s for Mom or Dad.”
Dan looked at her blankly, a bit confused that she had immediately assumed this was a birthday gift.
“Um, no one’s, I don’t think,” he responded, trying to figure out how to explain the purchase and delivery request.
“Oh, I just figured one of them was having a birthday today,” the cashier continued, “because you’re the third person in the last few minutes who bought a gift card to send to that same table.”
~Miriam Van Scott
