Dear God, the TEARS...

Just when you think you're having a bad day it happens. Someone else wins the prize but they don't want it. Who wants to have the worst day of all? I know I don't. Today the award went to my co-worker. And their bad day became my bad day.

I saw the sour look on their face when they returned from the doctor and knew by the understated yet heavy head shake not to press for answers. Usually a bright light of kindness to me, I had the front row seat to their darkness. They pushed things around on their desk just enough for me to notice but no one else.

It wasn't good news. This stellar employee went on and smiled and helped everyone that came their way. No one knew. I knew because I had asked. The doctor said they didn't get all the cancer from the surgery a week before. It sucked. There would be radiation, chemo, and maybe another surgery.

A duty called them away and that's when I saw the Chick-fil-A bag on their desk. This person never ate food from a fast food restaurant. Yet there sat the red and white bag slightly crumpled from the grip that brought it there. Tears were on deck in my ducts but I could not let them see. I tore my sight away from the bag and busied myself with work.

Minutes later I heard the bag crumpling and heard, "I'm treating myself today. I think I deserve it today."

I vacantly agreed scared to say the wrong thing. But they were right, today of all days, they deserved the treat.