I work with a great crew at a branding consultancy in Providence, Rhode Island. Every year, at our company holiday gathering, we are given an envelope containing a crisp, new 100 dollar bill. But it is not for us to keep. We are instructed to give the envelope to someone who, in our respective estimations, could maybe use a helping hand during holiday time. We are not to give it to a relative or a friend. The recipient has to be someone we don't know, or barely know...and perhaps will not see again for some time, if ever. It's the whole "pay it forward" thing, only, for us, it's a company tradition going back some years before that phrase became popular. Our party would take place in early December. That left us a few weeks to give our envelope to someone. But we didn't force it. Some of us wouldn't hand it off until after the holidays. Either way, we are invited to share our experience with the group if we like. Mine occured a few days before Christmas.

There's this lady who works behind the register at a local, family-owned lunch place a couple of buildings over from our office. She's a dark haired lady, small, early 50s maybe. Anyway, a typical visit to the place when she's working (and I don't know what days she works and have often gone several weeks without seeing her) goes something like...

Me: Hi.

Lady: Oooooo, honey! How yoo dooin', hon?!

Me: Good, thanks.

Lady (pointing at me):  B L T s!

M: Two!

L: Two! Oooooo. Yoo gonna eat all that, honey?!

M: Ummm hmm.

L: Woww! Napkins, hon? Here you go.

Our last conversation went much the same. Then:

L: Where yoo been? I haven't seen yoo in a while!

M: Busy. But I haven't seen you working... it's been some other lady.

L: Yeah, well, we work every other day. It's good to see you again, hon!

I went and ate.

Now, many times I have forgotten that I even have the money with me. But today, about halfway through lunch, I thought about it and I thought about this lady and I decided this is it. So when I was leaving...

M: Hi again. Hey, I have something for you. But you have to promise me you'll keep it.

L: What!? Whadda yoo talkin' about!?

M: Here. This is for you.

L: What's this!? Whadda yoo dooin'?

M: Just open it. It's for you. Merry Christmas.

She opens it.

L: Whadda you crazy! Whadda yoo dooin''?!

M: Somebody gave it to me to give to someone else. That's you.

L: Who?!! WHY?!! Whadda yoo CRAZY?!

M: For being nice. You always have a smile and you call me "hon" and you always remember my order and to give me napkins without asking.

(At this point people in line seem to be sharing my appraisal of her. I'm pretty sure I heard someone say, "That's cool. He's right.")

L: But I can't...

M: You have to.

L: But...

M: I have to give it to someone. I picked you. You take it. It's for always being nice.

L: I don't believe this. Whadda yoo...

M: (reaching for a hug) Merry Christmas, then?

L: Ooooooo, yes, honey. Merry Christmas.

I got a hug and a peck on the cheek.

Then I turned and walked out. The tumult around the register continued. A fading voice was saying, "I don't believe this. Do you believe this?! ... oooooooooo deee."

I smiled one of the warmest smiles ever.