I remember when I moved to Houston, leaving all my friends behind. It had to be the 13th time (since elementary school) my life had been uprooted and planted someplace else.
This time was different though, I wasn’t moving with my mom like I had before. This time I was moving in with my dad, a man I had only seen every other weekend – if that. He was new, as was everything else, but this time I could not push it down it — it swallowed me whole.
The first shed of kindness I received was at a sandwich place. I cried almost everyday, randomly, and it was as embarrassing as it hurt.
Well, at this table, in the corner, by the window I was crying over my sub as my dad tried to console me. “Please stop feef,” was his attempt to have control and show sympathy. I just wanted to go home- wherever that was. I wasn’t making any noise I just hung my head and cried as they ate.
Then someone came beside me. I looked up to see a chocolate chip cookie and a worker smiling down at me. “I can see you’re sad and I believe a cookie can always help. At least they always made me feel better,” he said while handing me the cookie. He smiled at me and then walked away.
That was the first time I didn’t feel utterly alone. I wish I could hug him and tell him how much that meant to me.
Kindness can truly be amazing and should be shared — with a cookie.