There was a waitress who chewed gum with a crackle. She talked and slapped people on the back. You could hear her voice ring out to the chef with her order for breakfast, lunch or dinner. “Two fried eggs and hash browns,” she exclaimed as she chewed her gum. Snap went the gum as she sauntered between the tables. “Two BLTs and one club sandwich to go. Two grilled cheese sandwiches and a side of fries. One milkshake and a piece of apple pie.”

She had a wide grin and everyone loved her. She chewed and chewed that gum and called everyone “Honey.” She was called Sally. Yep, Sally was her name. She wore a paisley dress and a white apron around her waist. She kept unruly kids in their seats and took no nonsense from any of the customers. They all loved her.

They went to the diner just to hear the comfort of her voice. “Two boiled eggs and some milk. Two sides of ham and make it quick!”

One day in mid-sentence she stopped and let her tray fall to the floor. She clutched her chest and fell. Someone yelled and called for help; another grabbed her so she wouldn’t hit her head on the floor; another started CPR while they all stayed until help arrived. They rushed her to the hospital and all waited for the doctor’s reply. She would be fine, but it would take a while. Flowers poured in, along with gifts and cards. People felt her loss at the diner and sauntered over to visit. Many brought her food and others helped pay her bills. Many just tried to find a new place to eat, but it wasn’t the same. Sally was important in their lives, and they needed to do something for her in return.

They visited and tried to comfort and help her laugh. They cared and loved her. Sally was amazed.

She had raised a passel of kids: some of her own plus a few who would walk in and out of her house. She was overly generous and took life as it came. She knew right from wrong and never diverted from the right path. Her kids wanted her to stay with them, but Sally said, “No. I know you love me and care, but my life is here. Let me be for now. Just come see me as often as you can.” Soon Sally gained her strength and was able to return to the diner. The day she arrived was a great celebration. Her friends sat her down and waited on her. All, of course, chewed gum and snapped it with acclaim. “Hi, Honey,” they said. “What do you want today?” Sally looked at them and let out a great laugh. “Did I look like that, chewing and snapping gum and calling everyone ‘Honey’?” “Yes,” they said. “We love you and love the way you do it. You are so real. There is no pretense or pretending. We always came here because of you—certainly not the food.” Sally was overwhelmed—All of this love because she was someone that didn’t pretend. She was amazed. How else should people live their lives?

© Nancy Hilton 2011
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