In the days when an ice cream sundae cost much less, a 10 year old boy entered a hotel coffee shop and sat at a table. A waitress put a glass of water in front of him.
“How much is an ice cream sundae?”
“50 cents,” replied the waitress.
The little boy pulled his hand out of his pocket and studied a number of coins in it.
“How much is a dish of plain ice cream?” he inquired. Some people were now waiting for a table and the waitress was a bit impatient.
“35 cents,” she said brusquely.
The little boy again counted the coins. “I’ll have the plain ice cream,” he said.
The waitress brought the ice cream, put the bill on the table and walked away. The boy finished the ice cream, paid the cashier and departed.
When the waitress came back, she began wiping down the table and then swallowed hard at what she saw.
There, placed neatly beside the empty dish, were 15 cents – her tip.
This short story reminds me of a similar moment from my own life...
Several years ago, my dad, myself, and a few other guys were sitting around the fire at our camp playing poker.
Known for being a great storyteller, my dad decided to tell everyone about an experience he had a few weeks prior.
He said after work one day he stopped in at the local tavern to have a couple beers and enjoy conversations with some friends.
While nothing out of the ordinary, he decided to play a few of the scratch-off games the tavern had as well. To a pretty awesome surprise, he ended up winning a few hundred bucks!
Of course, to anyone this would have been a nice chunk of change to brag about winning. My dad, on the other hand, didn’t tell the story to brag. Not even close. He just genuinely likes to tell a good story and get a conversation going.
While a new hand of cards was being dealt, the other guys were congratulating him and sparking up new conversations around the table. Myself at the time, still being rather young and curious, I asked him quietly what he had done with the money.
I didn’t expect what he said next...
I asked because I thought he was going to say that he took it and bought something for himself. Or maybe even used it to pay the bills. But that’s not quite the answer I got.
In our own conversation now, he humbly said he gave it in the church offering on Sunday morning.
He didn’t say it in a stuck up manner or a tone that made it seem like he was a good person for doing it. He just genuinely cared about giving it to a greater good. And nobody would've ever have known what he did with the money if I hadn't asked.
Doing the right thing in life means doing the right thing, especially when no one knows whether you did it or not.
Where in your life can you do the right thing?
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