It was a typical evening at Waffle House, where I sat with my 5-year-old son, Josiah. As we waited for our food, Josiah noticed a man standing outside, his worn clothes and tired face a testament to a life that had not been easy.
Josiah’s curiosity got the better of him, and he asked me who the man was. I explained that he might be homeless, and Josiah’s face scrunched up in confusion. Before I could stop him, he jumped out of his seat and ran to the man, inviting him to eat with us.
The man hesitated, looking down at his shoes, but Josiah’s enthusiasm was infectious. I nodded in agreement, and the man joined us at our table. When the waitress came to take his order, Josiah excitedly suggested that he get the biggest burger on the menu.
But it was what happened next that left me breathless. Before the man took a single bite, Josiah said a blessing, his head bowed in prayer. The entire restaurant fell silent, and I could feel the weight of kindness in the air.
Eleven people in the restaurant, including the man, had tears in their eyes. The waitress wiped her face, and a truck driver in the corner shook his head, smiling. It was a moment that none of us would ever forget.
As we sat there, Josiah chatting away with the man as if they had been friends forever, something unexpected happened. One by one, the other diners began paying for meals and leaving extra money with the cashier.
The kindness was contagious, and soon the entire restaurant was caught up in a wave of generosity. The waitress herself seemed overwhelmed, shaking her head in disbelief. “I’ve worked here for 12 years,” she murmured. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”
As we left the restaurant that night, Josiah did something that made me fall apart all over again. He took off his small, red hoodie and handed it to the man. “So you won’t be cold,” he said simply.
The man accepted the hoodie, pressing it to his chest like it was the most precious thing in the world. As we walked out of the restaurant, I looked back through the window. The man was still sitting there, staring after us, his hand resting on that little red hoodie.
But he wasn’t alone. The truck driver had pulled up a chair, and the older woman had too. They were talking to him, listening to him, treating him like a person, like he mattered.
In that moment, I knew that Josiah’s small act of kindness had started something much bigger than any of us could have imagined. It was a reminder that kindness is not something we do once; it’s something we live every day.
