More Than Words: Stories of Hope Read Online Free PDF Page A

best thing of all.
    “And chicken,” Bob exclaimed suddenly, withdrawing a huge bucket of it from the plastic bag.
    “Chicken…!”
    Little hands dived into the sack, which also contained biscuits and individual servings of mashed potatoes and gravy and green beans. Conversation abruptly ended.
     
    Life slowly settled into a sort of pattern for the next couple of days as the memory of the terrifying first day and night slowly dimmed and became bearable.
    The third night, Mary walked gingerly into the restaurant Mr. Smith had told her about, just at closing time.
    “Excuse me,” she said hesitantly.
    A tall, balding man at the counter lifted his head and his eyebrows. “Yes, ma’am?” he asked politely.
    “I was wondering…” She swallowed hard. She dug into her pocket and brought out a five dollar bill left over from the weekly rent she’d paid in advance. “I was wondering if you might have some chicken strips I could buy. Not with anything else,” she added hastily, and tried to smile. “It’s so far to the grocery store, and I’d have to take all three children with me…” She didn’t want to add that they had hardly any money to buy groceries with, anyway, and that Mr. Smith was at his poker game tonight and couldn’t watch the children for Mary while she drove to the store.
    The man sized up her callused hands and worn appearance. Three kids, she’d said, and judging by the way her shoes and sweater looked, it wasn’t easy buying much, especially food.
    “Sure, we have them,” he said kindly. “And we’re running a special,” he lied. “I’ll be just a minute.”
    She stood there in her sensible clothes feeling uncomfortable, but it only took a minute for the man to come back, smiling, with a plastic bag.
    “That will be exactly five dollars,” he said gently.
    She grinned, handing him the bill. “Thanks a million!”
    He nodded. “You’re very welcome.”
    She took the chicken strips back to the motel and shared them around. There were so many that they all had seconds. She was over the moon. But there was always tomorrow, she worried.
     
    She needn’t have. The next afternoon, when she dragged in after work, she found the man from the restaurant on her doorstep.
    “Look, I don’t want to insult you or anything,” he said gently. “But I know from your manager here that you’re having a rough time. We always have food left over at night at our restaurant,” he said kindly. “You see, we can’t carry it over until the next day, it has to be thrown out. I could let you have what there is. If it wouldn’t insult you. If you’d like it?”
    “I’d like it,” she said at once, and smiled. “Oh, I’d like it so much! Thank you.”
    He flushed. “It’s no problem. Really. If you don’t mind coming over about ten o’clock, just as we’re closing?”
    She laughed. “I’ll be there. And thank you!”
     
    She went to the restaurant exactly at ten, feeling a little nervous, but everybody welcomed her. Nobody made her feel small.
    The restaurant assistant manager went to the back and had the workers fill a huge bag full of vegetables and meats and fruits in neat disposable containers. He carried it to the front and presented it to Mary with a flourish. “I hope you and the children enjoy it,” he added with a smile.
    She started to open her purse.
    “No,” he said. “You don’t need to offer to pay anything. This would only go into the garbage,” he said gently. “That’s the truth. I’d much rather see it used and enjoyed.”
    “I’m Mary Crandall,” she said. “My children and I thank you,” she added proudly.
    “I’m Cecil Baker,” he replied. “I’m the assistant manager here. It’s nice to meet you.”
    “Thank you,” she said huskily. “Thank you so much.”
    “It’s my pleasure. I hate waste. So much food goes into the trash, when there are people everywhere starving. It’s ironic, isn’t it?”
    “Yes, it is,” she agreed.
    “Here.