She would smile, but I could tell that she wasn't happy. There wasn't a light to her eyes, even though I could see her trying to actually be happy where it counted.
And I counted myself lucky that I was one of those people that she tried to be happy for.
We didn't speak much, after all, she came in just for food. A simple order that didn't change. A small hamburger, no mustard with a side of fries and a lemonade to drink. Our conversations didn't last much longer than it took me to get her food.
But still I tried, in those few minutes to give her something happy to look forward to.
Fresh fries, lightly salted. Lemonade that had hardly any ice so she would get more. Little things like that. Some days I could only wave and call out hello when I saw her.
But it seemed to make a difference.
As little by little. Her shy hellos became louder, her smile wider, her eyes lighting up when she would walk in the door and see that I was already calling for her order to be made.
I only wished I could do more. Because seeing that smile. I didn't ever want to see her frown.
-Inspiration from going into Wendy's
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