_{*Quick Summary: The author gives advice to a fast food worker, who in turn, later gives the same advice to a customer.*}

I used to go to the same Southern-themed fast food restaurant every morning. For me, there’s no better way to start the day than an outrageous amount of calories in the morning. Those calories usually come in the form of some combination of eggs, sausage, bacon, ham, biscuits, and gravy. Lots and lots of gravy. I can, and often do, only eat two meals a day, a big breakfast, then another meal later in the day, with some snacks in between. 

I said “used to go” because I stopped going for a while due to a few uncomfortable interactions with an employee in the drive-thru. Not bad necessarily, just really awkward. The lady that worked the drive-thru most days is very friendly, and you can hear her call everyone “Sweetie”, “Darlin’”, and “Honey” as they place their order at the speaker. I was no exception. I always find that charming, especially when the person delivering it has no idea if there’s a serial killer with a body in the trunk ordering a chicken biscuit and a small sweet tea; it’s still, “That’ll be $4.39, Sweetheart.”.

One day, I ordered and pulled up to the window to see her quite disheveled. She was clearly upset. Always wanting to help if I can, and being led to, I asked her if everything was okay. She shared with me they were short-staffed, and those who showed up weren’t pulling their weight. I left her with a few words to make her laugh and brighten her day, then drove away. This type of interaction seemed to be a more regular thing for a while. Something was wrong in her life daily, either at work or at home, and she started telling me about it whether I asked or not. Sometimes when you listen at a time when no one else will, it makes you that person’s favorite human, and I felt that was happening here. While I’m always happy to help turn someone’s day around, I don’t make a habit of doing that in a drive-thru situation. Especially when you’re doing it day after day, and you feel that person growing more and more comfortable telling you about their life, and looking forward to any advice or words of wisdom you might have. That was the case here. I learned from her she is married, so while I didn’t feel any sort of relationship with me was brewing in her mind, the interactions were too frequent, and a bit too intimate to be comfortable for me. So I stopped going. After all, I just wanted my morning calories, not to hear about someone’s life and help them through it in such a co-dependent way every morning. It was time for me to set a boundary, and I did. I simply didn’t come by any more, and I definitely felt I’d made a mistake by ever asking her if she was okay that first time. 

After several months of going elsewhere, I was really craving the gravy that particular location made. Not that there aren’t other franchises close, because there are several, but this one was always quite well managed, and they always had the best gravy. Nothing starts my day off worse than watered down gravy, and this is probably more important to me than it ought to be. In addition, one of my gifts is to be a counselor, and part of me felt I’d somehow let her down by not being there, so I made the decision to return. If I saw her, I saw her, but if I could avoid her for a while longer, I would. I had come to recognize the lady’s car after having seen it consistently parked in the same spot every morning when I went. I resolved that I’d only go there if I drove by and didn’t see her car. Yes, I got that petty about it, even as that tinge of guilt sat on my shoulder. The first time I didn’t see it, I stopped in and got that amazing life-giving gravy, and all was well. 

I did that a few more times, until my luck ran out. I had checked the lot, the coast was clear, and I pulled up to the speaker to hear her voice again. The time between ordering and arriving at the window was short, but filled with questions in my mind – Had she changed cars? Did she park somewhere different? How could I have messed this up? Maybe I’m supposed to help her? I pulled up to the window, and she floored me with, “I guess you messed up didn’t you?”. Convicted, confused, and totally lying, I said, “NOOOOOOO! Why would you say that?” She then told me her wife dropped her off at work this particular morning and she seemingly half-joked I had been avoiding her. I lied again, and told her that wasn’t at all the case, and I hoped she had been doing well. She said she had and she missed me. Suffice it to say this interaction ended more pleasant than I thought it was going to, and I left feeling relieved. 

After thinking back on the whole thing, I decided to work that restaurant back into a rotation. Never again to be an every morning thing, but certainly a frequent stop. I’d just try to not ask any questions when I saw her, just always wish her well and drive away. If God truly wanted me to help her, He’d make it clear, and I’d respond. After all, I have asked God to lead people to me who need my help.

The semi-avoidance tactic worked fairly well, although occasionally she’d vent to me about what was going on without me asking. Knowing that God uses me to provide counseling for others means I walk a fine line between minding my own business and helping when I can. I fail at walking that line more often than I care to admit, but as I get older, I gain wisdom on when to speak up and when to just walk away. I felt I was walking that fine line just fine here.

Yesterday, I went back there for a couple of biscuits, and she was working the drive-thru. It was a nice morning, so I had my window down and could hear her slinging her “Darlins” and “Sweeties” fairly liberally to those in line ahead before I got there. I ordered and pulled forward. It was then I had my mind blown. I heard her talking to the woman ahead of me as she was giving her her order. She took a minute or two extra to talk with her, and it was clear the woman in the car wasn’t having a good morning. While I couldn’t hear the woman in the car, I could hear the lady working the drive-thru. In fact, I heard her tell this woman, “A good friend of mine once told me” and finish it with a phrase I regularly gave her on my previous stops. I was floored. Totally unprepared to hear my own words being used by another, to help yet a third person with their day. I pulled up to the window, and she gave me a, “Hey Sweetie!”, I got my biscuits and went on my way, realizing my words had taken on a life of their own. Not only were my words used on someone I didn’t know, but they were used with complete ownership by the lady I’d originally given them to. 

The moral of this story is simple – When you’re able to help someone through their day, do so. Be as nice as you can as often as you can. You have no idea how far your words and actions might go. This forced me to take a bit of my own advice with one of my favorite phrases – Never underestimate your impact in other people’s lives.