The Little Things

I left a small tip in my room for the housekeeping staff. And then, coming “home,” I met Gloria finishing up 215.

“Hello” and “Thank you,” I said. “Thank you for my tip,” she said.

And then we talked, strangers together, listening through the beautiful dance of too little of each others’ languages (my too-little Spanish and her too-little English.)

She told me that they moved here from Texas because the services are better for her son with autism. He is eleven years old , but his mental level is six. The tips are his — money for Christmas.

Her friendly sharing and her gracious gratitude stopped me in my busyness. A sacred encounter of strangers on a journey, separate and together. May I have eyes to see and ears to hear the stories of those whose paths I cross.

2 thoughts on “The Little Things”

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