Not All Valentines Come in Envelopes
gUmMyTeddyBear
As a teenager, I worked as a
waitress at a Coco's restaurant,
in Southern Carolina. Although California nights are supposed to be warm,
on this particular February night the brisk wind shrieked through the front
door. Around nine o' clock things slowed down and that's when I started
feeling sorry for myself. You see, all my friends had gone to the movies, but
I had to work until closing.
I didn't pay much attention to the man who entered the restaurant.
A flurry leaves followed him in. The sound of the wailing wind fell silent
as the door shut itself. I busied myself making more coffee. Suddenly the
hostess grabbed by arm. ''This is really creepy,'' she whispered, ''but there's
a man with a white moustache over there who said he wouldn't eat here
unless you were his waitress.''
I swallowed hard. ''Is he a weirdo?''
''See for yourself,'' she said.
We carefully peered through the decorative folliage at the mysterious
man in the corner. Slowly he lowered his menu, revealing thick, white hair,
silver-blue eyes, and a wide grin beneath his white moustache. He lifted his
handed and waved.
''That's no weirdo!'' I said. ''That's my dad!''
"You mean he came to see you at work?'' The hostess balked ''That's
pretty strange if you ask me.''
I didn't think it was very strange. I thought it was kind of neat. But I
didn't let Dad know that. Poor Dad! I acted so nonchalant, rattling off the
soup of the day and scribbling down his order before anyone could see him
squeeze my elbow and say, ''Thanks honey''
But I want you to know something------ I never forgot that night. His being
there said a thousand things to me. As he silently watched me clear tables
and refill coffee cups, I could hear his unspoken words bouncing off the
walls: ''I'm here. I support you. I'm proud of you. You're doing a great job.
Keep up the good work. You're my girl. I love you.'' It was the best valentine
I received that year.
