“There is something special I am looking for, but it’s seasonal so I doubt it’s on your truck.”
The man smiled, “Well, tell me what it is, and I’ll see if I can help.”
I took a deep breath and said, “Let me give you a brief back story so you know how important this is to me. A few weeks ago, my dad was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer. He’s only 61 years old, and we were told that he may not be here for Christmas. Dad loves mincemeat pie, and he only gets it at the holiday. I’d like to make sure he gets to enjoy it again, but this time on Father’s Day. Is there any way I can special-order one?”
By this time, despite my swallowing hard, hot tears were rolling down my cheeks.
“The bakery that supplies us cannot do it,” and before my heart could sink further he said, “but the cashier’s mom would do it.”
The tears kept streaming as he walked me over to her. He told my story, saving me from having to repeat my sad words. She was sure her mother would be happy to do this. I was overwhelmed by gratitude. Then the man said, “And you don’t need to purchase this pie. We would like to gift it to your family.” I was completely overcome. I hugged him tightly and thanked him over and over.
I choked out my contact information and left empty-handed. I had intended to make several purchases, but couldn’t gather myself at the moment.
The purpose of this letter is to share a story of the goodness in people and to encourage the community to check out this little shop. The only thing better than the food is the people.
Thank you, Doug, Liz and Liz’s mother!
Angela E. Raymer