On Sunday, we went out to eat. This is a big deal, since CJ and I now try every day to make good choices about what to eat. Frequent small meals, balance our protein and carbs, watch the fats, blah, blah, blah.But Sunday is our day to have a "free" day and have one or two of those items that normally aren't allowed on our menu, or in our house.
So of course I chose the stuffed avocado dinner, and thought about how delicious that avocado would be, filled with fajita meat then battered and deep fried. Hey, when you're going to splurge, make it count, right?
A few moments after ordering, our waiter returned to the table and stood by my elbow. "Ma'am, you ordered the stuffed avocado? I'm so sorry, but, we're out." He handed me a menu.
Disappointed, I put on a happy face and made another choice. A while later, when the waiter brought our meals, he set my plate in front of me. Next to my tortilla wrap, sat this lovely tomato rose.
The waiter said, "The cook felt bad that you had to order something else, so he made this for you."
My first thought was, "How sweet, and how thoughtful." We weren't in an upscale restaurant, although the food is usually very good. This was a chain restaurant. Generally at chain restaurants, employees don't deviate from the norm. But this chef took a few seconds from his food prep to think of his customer (me) who didn't get what she originally wanted (that yummy stuffed avocado). Maybe to some people, this is nothing. But to me, it was a very sweet nothing.
Thoughtfulness is a trait we don't see very often, and it often surprises us when we find it. It's about thinking of someone else before ourselves, even in a small matter. Like a customer having to change an order. What would happen in the world, if we all find opportunities to give sweet nothings to someone else? Because a sweet nothing does mean something, to the one who receives our gift.
Let each of you esteem and look upon and be concerned for not [merely] his own interests, but also each for the interests of others. Philippians 2:4
