Thank you for tipping your waitress too much. Even though she accidentally messed up your order, you tipped her good. Real good.
You were with your family. The waitress brought you a meal you didn’t ask for. You ate it anyway. You tipped her two twenties.
And thanks for giving that man and his son a ride home. You found them in the Walmart parking lot with a dead battery. You tried to jumpstart the vehicle five times. It wouldn’t hold a charge. So you asked where he lived.
“About an hour away,” the man said.
You drove an hour. Both ways.
Thanks for the gift baskets you bought for Miss Donna. She was in the hospital after a heart attack. You visited her room by mistake—you meant to visit your niece after her appendectomy.
You noticed Miss Donna didn’t have any visitors. She had no get-well cards, no flowers.
Someone told me what you did.
You must have spent a fortune at the florist. They delivered three
different baskets, the cards were signed with three different names. Clever.
That must’ve made her feel important. Then, you delivered a fourth basket by hand. You introduced yourself. You sat with her. You talked.
Thanks for letting the frantic mother use your cellphone when she couldn’t find her child. Her phone was dead, she was pure panic.
She borrowed your phone. She made a few calls. She ended up locating her son because of you.
Thanks for cutting your neighbor’s lawn after his back surgery. He’s old. For someone his age, surgery is a big deal.
Not only did you cut his lawn. You cleaned out his gutters. You went to the store to stock his fridge. You even bought him a stack of magazines. You didn't have to do that.
Thanks for holding the door for the old…