“Hey, Mike, I just left Broadway Diner (in Fayetteville) and something kinda neat happened. I was about to leave, when the lady said, ‘Well, I can bring your check to you now.’ ‘Well, okay. I’ll get the check.’
“And then I was packing up my leftovers and she said, ‘Somebody paid for your dinner tonight.’
“And I think, they probably left, but I don’t know who it was but, anybody you know … Well, anyway, somebody paid for my dinner, so uh, things happen when you need it. Anyway, I just thought I’d let you know, and I will talk to you later, buddy. Bye.”
This was a message left on my voice mail a few weeks ago, on Feb. 3, 2014. Earlier that day, my friend and I had spoken on the phone.
A few days later, I noticed his message, an addendum to our chat. He had been battling an illness for several years.
We talked at least once a week. I tried to provide him encouragement, yet I was the one receiving inspiration. We talked about serious stuff, and we joked around like old times, but we always told each other that we loved each other before we said goodbye.
To whomever who bought dinner for my friend — an even-tempered man who was kind, funny, and “loved God and his family” above all else — I need to say thank you.
For 12 days later, on the 15th of February, my friend would die.
This was a random act of kindness, something you did for a stranger. You have moved me to be more like you, and I challenge others to be inspired by your actions because I know how it cheered my friend.
I will do this in his memory, because in my grief I am reminded that “things happen when you need it” — like listening to your best man tell a story about an act of kindness on a voice mail. May God bless you.
Michael B. Moore
Burnsville, Minn.
