The coffee

The old man came to the cafe everyday. Thursday at exactly 4 PM. He always ordered two cups of tea. Never one. Two. The first few times the staff assumed someone was joing him. They would glance the door every few minutes expecting another customer to arraive. No one ever did. One cup remainded untouched until it grew cold. He always asked the workers to give that another cup of coffee to a homeless person.

The other he drank slowly as if stretching every sip would make the afternoon last a little longer. Months passed and the routine never changed. One rainy Thursday a new waitress finally gathered the courage to ask "Sir...if you don't mind me asking why do you always order two cups? Why do you wait till you finish the cup slowly and then ask us to warm it up and give to a homeless person?"

The old man smiles. Not the smile that comes from happiness. The kind that comes from remembering. "My wife and I used to come here every Thursday after work. Forty three years. She lived helping people and that's why I give the other person The cofee..." The waitress looked at the untouched cup.

"I am sorry."

"So am I" he replied softly. She did not ask anything else. The following week when he arraived she quietly places two cups on the table before he even ordered. "It is on the house today" she said. He thanked her with a nod.

It became their little tradition. Sometimes they talked. Sometimes they didn't. She learned that his name was David. He learned that she was studying to become a teacher. He never gave advice unless she asked for it. But whenever she asked his advice were simple. Be kind and listen carefully and don't waste time being angry.

She wrote those sentences in a notebook. Years passed. She graduated and become a teacher. She stopped working at the cafe. Life moved on.

On one Thursday she visited the shop out of curiosity. Daniel was not there. She asked the manager there. "He has not came here in a while. He passed away last week", the manager said.

The words settled heavily mvshe waledyti the familiar table by the window. It was empty. And for the first time in years she sat down. The cafe felt strangely quieter. Then she noticed a girl who worked there comes to her with an envelope. She gave the envelope wordlessly with a smile and went to work.

It had her name written in it. Inside was a folded letterm "If you are reading this then I probably missed a Thursday. I wanted to thank you. You probably thought you were serving tea. You did not. You were keeping an old man company after the live of his life left the world.

Loneliness is a strange thing. It does not always ask for a conversation. Sometiyit just hopes that someone noticed that it is sitting there. You noticed. Most people don't. They will see the second cup and saw sadness. You looked at it and saw a person and that is a rare gift. Promise me that you will keep noticing people. They often carry stories that are too heavy to tell.

One day you will get the kindness that you have in a unexpected way. You may never realised how much it matters. But ne there anyway "

And then every Thursday she went to the same cafe and orders two coffee and she always drank only one.