I glanced into the dining room.
Almost half the seats were empty.
I was about to question her when Amber, one of our younger servers, passed the entrance.
She stopped when she noticed me.
Her eyes moved briefly over my worn clothing, dirty hands, and exhausted expression.
But instead of turning away, she smiled gently.
“Come with me, sir. There’s a nice table available by the window.”
She led me inside and helped me get comfortable.
A short while later, Amber returned carrying a hot bowl of soup.
She’d also brought fresh bread and a cup of coffee.
I reached into my pocket for the few coins I’d brought.
But she gently stopped me.
“That’s all right. Save your money. This meal is on me.”
I struggled to speak.
My mother had always believed that nobody should be turned away hungry.
For a moment, I imagined how proud she would have been to see Amber treating a stranger with such compassion.
