Member-only story
A Glimpse of Grace
Coffee With a Pitcher of Kindness
The line was long, the customers were impatient, and the barista ignored us
Yesterday I met two friends for coffee at The Mill, the oldest and most popular coffee shop in Lincoln, Nebraska.
The baristas tried to keep up with phone orders and requests for fancy caffeinated drinks, but the line moved painfully slow. I felt increasingly impatient, eager to refill my plain old cup of coffee.
Two men stood in front of me, neatly dressed and chatting casually.
Not me. All I could think about was getting my coffee and returning to my friends.
A few feet behind me stood a big man wearing a heavy winter coat and oversized rubber shoes with no socks. A dirty stocking cap mashed his tangled web of hair, and in his hand, he held a disposable coffee cup with The Mill logo.
A backpack strapped to a suitcase on wheels stood behind him.
The man danced to a tune that only he could hear and chatted amiably with someone only he could see.
