In my 30s I quit my super stressful job cooking fancy food for fancy fucks and got a job at Subway. It’s a long story full of sex drugs and rock and roll that led me to that Subway but that’s another story.

One day I was half drunk slinging subs when this lady came in with her daughter with Down Syndrome in tow. The store was slow, it was that dead time between lunch and dinner. Anyway, mom was frazzled but the daughter, Sarah, was so excited to be there. Mom got one of those flatbread joints and Sarah started in on an epic Cold Cut Combo. It had everything on it, it was about as big around as a small tree lol. I answered all her questions and it was like any other order, well except that epic sandwich lol.

They sat down and ate and I gave them some free cookies and went back to doing nothing. Sarah comes to the counter to say thank you, I say your welcome and then she asks me if I am sad. What? This took me aback a little. Some background, my parents had me late in life and poor health and age took them before I was 30. I have been alone for a long time now but at that time it was still kind of fresh and I didn’t have anyone that cared enough to ask if I was sad. I gave her some lame “no I am just tired” answer and she went back to her mom. They finished up and were leaving when I went to wipe down their table and Sarah came running up to me and gave me a bear hug. I was just standing there arms up in the air rag in one hand looking at her mom for guidance. It was sort of startling but man, I am hard-pressed to name a more needed hug lol.

Her mom apologised but Sarah just told me it was okay to be sad and they left. A few days later they came back and I made them sandwiches and they would sit and eat and we would all talk. I heard about school and her mom and dad and her mom would always apologize for bothering me. I was never bothered about it, I looked forward to my new friend’s infectious optimism every week.

That little girl helped me see some hope in what was at the time a dark place. I only worked there for about 18 months and when I left I waited until I saw them so I could tell them I was quitting. I ended up keeping in touch, went to a couple of birthday parties, and was pen pals with them when I moved for a new fancy food for fancy fucks job.

Sarah died from some complications due to her disability, she had a lot going on. She never cried about it, she was never anything but smiles and compassion. When I visited her in the hospital one time she was holding court in her room with the nurses and staff all smiling and happy. Her indestructible smile changed and in some ways saved my life. I miss that kid, I wish I had known her longer. Anyway, imma go cry like a little girl for a while lol. Peace.

The story earlier knocked loose a memory:

I worked at a small law firm years ago, and we used to have a could of community-support workers, a man’s and a woman both with Downs, come in to do janitorial tasks. The woman was an Elvis Presley fanatic. She would listen to Elvis on headphones while she worked. She’d talk about Elvis all the time. She’d mark his birthday, and the anniversary of his death. She was sad that she never got to see him sing.

One day, a potential client came in for a consultation, and this guy was an Elvis impersonator by vocation. And who happened to be there, by chance, even though she came for only about an hour a week? Yep, our Elvis fan.

The guy was really sweet, and put on an impromptu performance for her, and she was Over. The. Moon. It was a good day in the office.