The Starbucks barista called my name, produced my drink, while not missing a beat swaying to the music they’re playing. I thanked her and walked away as usual, but perhaps it was how she was still dancing to herself that I felt something more. I warmed with the knowledge that while the drink was nothing to her, just one in a thousand and counting, but to me, she just made the only thing I know that will help me through this dreary afternoon. I’m suddenly so grateful for her. Not only am I lucky enough to be able to pay for what I want, but someone is there to make it when I needed it.
OK, I hear someone say I’m being overly sentimental. But, more so than the hot chocolate, this surge of gratitude was the best thing I’ve experienced all day.