Free refills ....

Got up last Tuesday morning feeling untethered. Outside the sun was baptizing an unseasonably warm November day.

The kind of sunshine we almost don’t deserve.

I was feeling the heaviness of everything.

Had just poured my ritual 10 ounces into my Thermos, but my cup still felt empty. So I got in my car and drove towards the small coffee shop on North Main. The one where I write my daughter postcards on Saturdays.

Didn’t need a coffee. Just some humanity.

Halfway there I peeled off into the bank’s drive through. Got some cash from the machine. Pebbles for the scale, I told myself.?

Got to the coffee shop just as it opened. Ordered a cortado to go from Marissa, the barista. Paid with my Darth Vadar credit card. Added a tip.?

After ordering I asked her if they still did Pay It Forward. She nodded, so I handed over what I’d withdrawn. She thanked me, and I took a seat by the counter to wait.?

In walked a middle aged guy in a ballcap. Kinda scruffy. Came in chatty.?

Asked Marissa, “What’s your strongest coffee?” Went on to say he was nine years sober, adding the exact number of months and days for good measure. “So coffee’s an important thing in my life.”?

After Marissa relayed the dark roast of the day, he asked what sizes they had.?

“How big’s a large?” he asked. Twenty ounces, she said.

“How much are refills? Free, she said.?

From my chair I apprehended that he didn’t have much on him. Probably had nowhere else to be. Interested in how far and for how long his dollars might stretch.

The stories we tell ourselves about the world around us.

He ordered 20 ounces. Asked what he owed.?

She told him not to worry about it.?

“Sorry?”?

I tensed up a bit. I didn’t want to be around to watch anything.?Just came in to put a few pebbles on the scale and be on my way.

“It’s taken care of,” was all she said.?

I exhaled. ?

“Wow,” he said.

He gave himself a second to let it sink in.

“Really? Um, thank you.”?

He paused another beat.?

“When I came in, I could tell you had a kind face.”?

I smiled from my chair because I think I said those exact words to Marissa the last time I was in. It occurred to me that was the day I dropped off my mail-in ballot.

I needed some humanity that day, too.

Marissa’s gesture unlocked him.?

“You know, I was always a big egomaniac before I quit. But the biggest thing they teach you is humility.

“A big part of learning humility is that receiving kindness is just as important as giving kindness. It's not easy … but I’ve learned how to receive kindness.”

He asked Marissa her name so he could thank her by it. Gave his in return.

Strong coffee in hand, he started to make his way to a table. Then he paused.

What he did next, I'll never forget.

He turned back to Marissa.?

“Now I’m gonna just have to find someone to pay your kindness forward,” he said.?

He saw me sitting in my chair.

I met his gaze just in time to see his eyes alight. ?

“Can I buy you a coffee?” he asked me.?

The best sermons are the ones you don’t see coming.

I needed a second to let it sink in. ?

I thanked him profusely for giving me what I woke up needing from the world.?What I’d hoped to find driving up Main Street not needing a coffee.

The way it came out was, “Already got one on the way. But next time I see you, maybe we can have one together.”?

He asked my name. Gave his in return.

Marissa parked my cortado on the counter. I met her at the register. Exchanged fist bumps.

Received the warmest smile from her kind face. ?

The kind of sunshine we most certainly deserve.

There are saints all around us. Most, hidden in plain sight. Sometimes they don’t look like you or me.?

We need to humble ourselves to see them.

So we can receive their kindness.?

So that when our own cups are empty, we can be reminded that refills are free.