[CAPTAINZING2000]

> >>>
> >>>> Subject: Fw: The Folded Napkin ... A
> >>>> Truckers Story
> >>>>
> >>>> This one will make you cry..
> >>>>
> >>>> (If this doesn't light your fire . your wood
> >>>> is wet!!!)
> >>>>
> >>>>
> >>>>
> >>>> I try not to be biased, but I had my
> >>>> doubts about hiring Stevie.
> >>>> His
> >>>> placement counselor assured me that
> >>>> he would be a good, reliable
> >>>> busboy.
> >>>> But I had never had a mentally
> >>>> handicapped employee and wasn't
> >>>> sure
> >>>> I
> >>>> wanted one. I wasn't sure how my
> >>>> customers would react to
> >>>> Stevie. He
> >>>> was
> >>>> short, a little dumpy with the
> >>>> smooth facial features and
> >>>> thick-tongued
> >>>> speech of Downs Syndrome. I wasn't
> >>>> worried about most of my
> >>>> trucker
> >>>> customers because truckers don't
> >>>> generally care who buses tables
> >>>> as
> >>>> long as
> >>>> the meatloaf platter is good and the
> >>>> pies are homemade. The
> >>>> four-wheeler
> >>>> drivers were the ones who concerned
> >>>> me; the mouthy college kids
> >>>> traveling
> >>>> to school; the yuppie snobs who
> >>>> secretly polish their silverware
> >>>> with their
> >>>> napkins for fear of catching some
> >>>> dreaded "truck stop germ" the
> >>>> pairs of
> >>>> white-shirted business men on
> >>>> expense accounts who think every
> >>>> truck
> >>>> stop
> >>>> waitress wants to be flirted with. I
> >>>> knew those people would be
> >>>> uncomfortable around Stevie so I
> >>>> closely watched him for the
> >>>> first
> >>>> few
> >>>> weeks.
> >>>> I shouldn't have worried. After the
> >>>> first week, Stevie had my
> >>>> staff
> >>>> wrapped
> >>>> around his stubby little finger, and
> >>>> within a month my truck
> >>>> regulars had
> >>>> adopted him as their official truck
> >>>> stop mascot.
> >>>> After that, I really didn't care
> >>>> what the rest of the customers
> >>>> thought of
> >>>> him. He was like a 21-year-old in
> >>>> blue jeans and Nikes, eager to
> >>>> laugh and
> >>>> eager to please, but fierce in his
> >>>> attention to his duties.
> >>>> Every
> >>>> salt and
> >>>> pepper shaker was exactly in its
> >>>> place, not a bread crumb or
> >>>> coffee
> >>>> spill
> >>>> was visible when Stevie got done
> >>>> with the table.
> >>>> Our only problem was persuading him
> >>>> to wait to clean a table
> >>>> until
> >>>> after
> >>>> the customers were finished. He
> >>>> would hover in the background,
> >>>> shifting his
> >>>> weight from one foot to the other,
> >>>> scanning the dining room
> >>>> until a
> >>>> table
> >>>> was empty. Then he would scurry to
> >>>> the empty table and carefully
> >>>> bus
> >>>> dishes
> >>>> and glasses onto cart and
> >>>> meticulously wipe the table up with a
> >>>> practiced
> >>>> flourish of his rag. If he thought a
> >>>> customer was watching, his
> >>>> brow
> >>>> would
> >>>> pucker with added concentration. He
> >>>> took pride in doing his job
> >>>> exactly
> >>>> right, and you had to love how hard
> >>>> he tried to please each and
> >>>> every
> >>>> person he met.
> >>>> Over time, we learned that he lived
> >>>> with his mother, a widow who
> >>>> was
> >>>> disabled after repeated surgeries
> >>>> for cancer. They lived on
> >>>> their
> >>>> Social
> >>>> Security benefits in public housing
> >>>> two miles from the truck
> >>>> stop.
> >>>> Their
> >>>> social worker, who stopped to check
> >>>> on him every so often,
> >>>> admitted
> >>>> they
> >>>> had fallen between the cracks. Money
> >>>> was tight, and what I paid
> >>>> him
> >>>> was
> >>>> probably the difference between them
> >>>> being able to live together
> >>>> and
> >>>> Stevie
> >>>> being sent to a group home. That's
> >>>> why the restaurant was a
> >>>> gloomy
> >>>> place
> >>>> that morning last August, the first
> >>>> morning in three years that
> >>>> Stevie
> >>>> missed work.
> >>>> He was at the Mayo Clinic in
> >>>> Rochester getting a new valve or
> >>>> something put
> >>>> in his heart. His social worker said
> >>>> that people with Downs
> >>>> Syndrome
> >>>> often
> >>>> have heart problems at an early age
> >>>> so this wasn't unexpected,
> >>>> and
> >>>> there
> >>>> was a good chance he would come
> >>>> through the surgery in good
> >>>> shape
> >>>> and be
> >>>> back at work in a few months.
> >>>> A ripple of excitement ran through
> >>>> the staff later that morning
> >>>> when
> >>>> word
> >>>> came that he was out of surgery, in
> >>>> recovery, and doing fine.
> >>>> Frannie, the
> >>>> head waitress, let out a war hoop
> >>>> and did a little dance in the
> >>>> aisle when
> >>>> she heard the good news. Belle
> >>>> Ringer, one of our regular
> >>>> trucker
> >>>> customers, stared at the sight of
> >>>> this 50-year-old grandmother
> >>>> of
> >>>> four
> >>>> doing a victory shimmy beside his
> >>>> table. Frannie blushed,
> >>>> smoothed
> >>>> her
> >>>> apron and shot Belle Ringer a
> >>>> withering look.
> >>>> He grinned. "OK, Frannie, what was
> >>>> that all about?" he asked.
> >>>> "We just got word that Stevie is out
> >>>> of surgery and going to be
> >>>> okay."
> >>>> "I was wondering where he was. I had
> >>>> a new joke to tell him.
> >>>> What
> >>>> was the
> >>>> surgery about?"
> >>>> Frannie quickly told Belle Ringer
> >>>> and the other two drivers
> >>>> sitting
> >>>> at his
> >>>> booth about Stevie's surgery, then
> >>>> sighed: "Yeah, I'm glad he is
> >>>> going to
> >>>> be OK," she said. "But I don't know
> >>>> how he and his Mom are going
> >>>> to
> >>>> handle
> >>>> all the bills. From what I hear,
> >>>> they're barely getting by as it
> >>>> is." Belle
> >>>> Ringer nodded thoughtfully, and
> >>>> Frannie hurried off to wait on
> >>>> the
> >>>> rest of
> >>>> her tables.
> >>>> Since I hadn't had time to round up
> >>>> a busboy to replace Stevie
> >>>> and
> >>>> really
> >>>> didn't want to replace him, the
> >>>> girls were busing their own
> >>>> tables
> >>>> that day
> >>>> until we decided what to do. After
> >>>> the morning rush, Frannie
> >>>> walked
> >>>> into my
> >>>> office. She had a couple of paper
> >>>> napkins in her hand and a
> >>>> funny
> >>>> look on
> >>>> her face.
> >>>> "What's up?" I asked.
> >>>> "I didn't get that table where Belle
> >>>> Ringer and his friends were
> >>>> sitting
> >>>> cleared off after they left, and
> >>>> Pony Pete and Tony Tipper were
> >>>> sitting
> >>>> there when I got back to clean it
> >>>> off," she said. "This was
> >>>> folded
> >>>> and
> >>>> tucked under a coffee cup." She
> >>>> handed the napkin to me, and
> >>>> three
> >>>> $20
> >>>> bills fell onto my desk when I
> >>>> opened it. On the outside, in
> >>>> big,
> >>>> bold
> >>>> letters, was printed "Something For
> >>>> Stevie. Pony Pete asked me
> >>>> what
> >>>> that
> >>>> was all about," she said, "so I told
> >>>> him about Stevie and his
> >>>> Mom
> >>>> and
> >>>> everything, and Pete looked at Tony
> >>>> and Tony looked at Pete, and
> >>>> they ended
> >>>> up giving me this." She handed me
> >>>> another paper napkin that had
> >>>> "Something
> >>>> For Stevie" scrawled on its outside.
> >>>> Two $50 bills were tucked
> >>>> within its
> >>>> folds. Frannie looked at me with
> >>>> wet, shiny eyes, shook her head
> >>>> and
> >>>> said
> >>>> simply: "truckers."
> >>>> That was three months ago. Today is
> >>>> Thanksgiving, the first day
> >>>> Stevie is
> >>>> supposed to be back to work. His
> >>>> placement worker said he's been
> >>>> counting
> >>>> the days until the doctor said he
> >>>> could work, and it didn't
> >>>> matter
> >>>> at all
> >>>> that it was a holiday. He called 10
> >>>> times in the past week,
> >>>> making
> >>>> sure we
> >>>> knew he was coming, fearful that we
> >>>> had forgotten him or that
> >>>> his
> >>>> job was
> >>>> in jeopardy. I arranged to have his
> >>>> mother bring him to work. I
> >>>> then
> >>>> met
> >>>> them in the parking lot and invited
> >>>> them both to celebrate his
> >>>> day
> >>>> back.
> >>>> Stevie was thinner and paler, but
> >>>> couldn't stop grinning as he
> >>>> pushed
> >>>> through the doors and headed for the
> >>>> back room where his apron
>
> >>>> and
> >>>> busing
> >>>> cart were waiting.
> >>>> "Hold up there, Stevie, not so
> >>>> fast," I said. I took him and his
> >>>> mother by
> >>>> their arms. "Work can wait for a
> >>>> minute. To celebrate you coming
> >>>> back,
> >>>> breakfast for you and your mother is
> >>>> on me!"
> >>>> I led them toward a large corner
> >>>> booth at the rear of the room.
> >>>> I
> >>>> could
> >>>> feel and hear the rest of the staff
> >>>> following behind as we
> >>>> marched
> >>>> through
> >>>> the dining room. Glancing over my
> >>>> shoulder, I saw booth after
> >>>> booth
> >>>> of
> >>>> grinning truckers empty and join the
> >>>> procession. We stopped in
> >>>> front
> >>>> of the
> >>>> big table. Its surface was covered
> >>>> with coffee cups, saucers and
> >>>> dinner
> >>>> plates, all sitting slightly crooked
> >>>> on dozens of folded paper
> >>>> napkins.
> >>>> "First thing you have to do, Stevie,
> >>>> is clean up this mess," I
> >>>> said.
> >>>> I
> >>>> tried to sound stern. Stevie looked
> >>>> at me, and then at his
> >>>> mother,
> >>>> then
> >>>> pulled out one of the napkins. It
> >>>> had "Something for Stevie"
> >>>> printed
> >>>> on the
> >>>> outside. As he picked it up, two $10
> >>>> bills fell onto the table.
> >>>> Stevie stared at the money, then at
> >>>> all the napkins peeking from
> >>>> beneath
> >>>> the tableware, each with his name
> >>>> printed or scrawled on it. I
> >>>> turned to
> >>>> his mother.
> >>>> "There's more than $10,000 in cash
> >>>> and checks on table, all from
> >>>> truckers
> >>>> and trucking companies that heard
> >>>> about your problems. "Happy
> >>>> Thanksgiving,"
> >>>> Well, it got real noisy about that
> >>>> time, with everybody
> >>>> hollering
> >>>> and
> >>>> shouting, and there were a few
> >>>> tears, as well. But you know
> >>>> what's
> >>>> funny?
> >>>> While everybody else was busy
> >>>> shaking hands and hugging each
> >>>> other,
> >>>> Stevie,
> >>>> with a big, big smile on his face,
> >>>> was busy clearing all the
> >>>> cups
> >>>> and
> >>>> dishes from the table. Best worker I
> >>>> ever hired.
> >>>> Plant a seed and watch it grow. At
> >>>> this point, you can bury this
> >>>> inspirational message or forward it
> >>>> fulfilling the need! If you
> >>>> shed
> >>>> a
> >>>> tear, hug yourself, because you are
> >>>> a compassionate person.
> >>>> Well.. Don't just sit there! Send
> >>>> this story on!
> >>>> Keep it going, this is a good one!