Saturday, September 30, 2006

The barista called me by name this morning when I ordered my Americano. We know each other, but it felt good for a high schooler to use my first name.

I remember once Ruby Miller told me from her wheel chair about a Sunday morning back when she was still mobile. She said she was at church, but was feeling quite depressed (I don’t remember if this was the word she used, but I was surprised that a woman of her generation was admitting to feeling “down” to that degree). Ruby told me I called her by name as I greeted her that day and somehow that had made such a difference. She wanted me to know how much that meant to her. I have no memory of this interaction and perhaps I was getting undue credit, but knowing and using a persons name sometimes (often) means a lot.


Blogger mauri macy said...

thanks, fred...

8:28 PM  

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