Christmas Eve at Starbucks via Pia

Imagine my surprise to find myself Christmas Eve using cane and crutches because two very recent knee surgeries, instead of ending an eight-year saga, only revealed the extent of their injury and the promise of longer confinement and more surgery.

So, a little dampened in spirit, I drove and caned myself up to the friendly counter of Starbucks in Albertson’s, a big-time operation in a still-small town where they not only know what you and your spouse drink but now look up to see if it is one or two fingers you have lifted up to tell them your order.

The girls there are especially sweet this time and try to have my drinks ready when I arrive to pay because they have seen my gradual but temporary decent into canehood.

Christmas Eve morning I take out my card to pay and I am told… it’s FREE. A lady nicknamed Pia has prepaid for a lot of nonalcoholic Christmas cheer and I was one of the many beneficiaries.

There was a card there that all signed thanking her for her kindness. Mine said, “Thanks… Wow! … Max and Nancy.”

There was a long line behind me. I didn’t have time to properly thank her. Or the ones who have opened doors for me, picked up my fallen papers, put their strange but loving hand on my shoulder with words of concern and encouragement.

Thanks to my physical therapists and the young man behind me who was impatient to pass but hid it well and when I moved aside, still kept his paces slowed to match mine, out of kindness that only God (and I) saw.

Being less than perfect is not my long-term goal, but along the way I see most, in their Christmas haste, still remember Christ’s admonition: Love others as yourself.

Good job, Fallbrook. Thanks, Pia.

Nancy Phillips