Two men walked into our small café one chilly evening, ordered generously, and chatted warmly with us as if we were old friends. They enjoyed their meal, laughed loudly, and didn’t seem in a rush. But when it was time to pay, they quietly slipped out the door without a word. My coworker, Mia, was on the verge of tears; the bill was well over a hundred dollars, and we both relied on every shift to make ends meet. Without thinking, I rushed outside into the cold, still wearing my apron.
I spotted them just a block away and called out, “Excuse me! I think you forgot to pay!” One of the men turned around slowly, and instead of looking guilty, he smiled kindly. He walked back toward me and said, “We didn’t forget.” Confused and frustrated, I told him about Mia and how this would affect her paycheck. His expression softened as he reached into his coat pocket.
He pulled out an envelope and handed it to me gently. Inside was not just enough money to cover the bill, but a note that read: “This café helped our mother through lonely evenings when she was sick. She found comfort here. We wanted to give