A happy smile and a kind heart

I would stop by the fast food store every so often on my lunch break to grab a salad or whatever the particular day favored as a quick lunch. Idly, I perused and watched the washed and unwashed mass as they jostled for a delicious, if not exactly healthy fare. A few weeks ago I noticed a new worker on the register.

She was really uncomfortable and visibly bad at counting the change which was due to the customers. Some left with too much and some left with not enough. I could see the other workers eyeing her and snickering.

When she worked the window, the orders got completely mixed up and took a longer time as she made sure that each order was what the customer actually left with.

Bottom line, she was bad at working in the fast food industry.

What fascinated me though, and what the other workers did not see, were the times when those who could barely afford their meals came in. Ms. X, we shall call her that so as not to compromise her identity. X would never allow anyone to leave without their meal, when other cashiers were turning people away, she never did.

She would pay from her own pocket (and we all know that was not an easy thing to do on her paltry salary), and she always reached for some pie or extra fries which went into the bag or tray of those who needed an extra boost. People came in with loose change which she would secretly shove back to them and pay for the whole thing.

Honestly, some days, I doubt that she had time to deposit the money for some of the meals, on busy days she just shoved the food to the less fortunate and carried on as if it was the most natural thing to do.

After a while her lines became longer than the other cashier lines, which drew the attention of the supervisor. Grudgingly, the customers would shift to the other registers where they would either leave empty handed or with less than they wanted.

I figured out the days when she worked and made sure to take my lunch there on those days. I was amused and, well, fascinated by this strange creature.

I would place large tips in tiny envelopes, place her name on it and leave it covertly at her register, while moving quickly out the door. She caught me doing it a few times and smiled, at least now she had help to aid the needy few.

The week before she completely disappeared, she came out the door behind me as I was leaving. We introduced ourselves and had an interesting talk during her lunch break.

She was new to the country, didn't quite understand the currency (hence the conundrum of the great making of change debacle) and had never worked in the fast food industry before.

Somehow, they had assumed that she was already trained, so no one had bothered to train her or offer advice, they had just stuck her at the drive-through window on her first day and the register the second day, with the minimum of directions on how to use it. Total confusion had ensued.

Well, sooner or later, all good things will come to an end. Tongues will wag, jealousy will rear its ugly head and supervisors will listen to tattle tales. They caught my little Robin Hood, accepting less and sometimes giving away food to the needy.

The next time I went there on the day she should have worked, she was not there. Nor was she there the next time. I enquired of a co-worker who said that there had been talk of her getting fired, but she believed she had quit before that could happen.

I would have loved to have had another conversation with this kind hearted Ms. X. I would have told her how much her little acts of kindness had influenced my warped perception of people.

I had lost all faith in the goodness of people in general, but those tiny moments had given me new hope.

I wished her well.