“A Grande Latte, with extra foam please.”
Barb took my four dollars and gave me thirteen cents back, a dime and three pennies. Then she took a medium size cup and wrote on the side of it with a black marker. She didn’t make eye contact. She didn’t ask for my name.
The store wasn’t crowded and there was no one behind me.
I drank my Grande Latte on the way home. Sipping it at red lights.
The cup was empty when I pulled into the driveway. I took it out of the cup holder and turned it around. On the side of the cup was my name, Pamela, in cursive.
She remembered my name. She didn’t ask me for my name because she remembered it.
She remembered my name. The small gesture, made me feel valued. A woman in a coffee shop, remembered me. Well, it could also mean that I buy too many cups of coffee if she doesn’t have to ask me what my name is.
He knows your name.
And then I remembered, He knows my name.
Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;
I have summoned you by name; you are mine.
Isaiah 43:1
He knows your name.
When you are alone. In the dark. And no one knows your name. Remember.
He knows your name.
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Have do you feel when someone remembers your name? Please click here to comment. Here or scroll to the bottom of the post on my blog.
Click on the orange slice to read more Slice of Life stories. Writing every day in March, a tiny slice from our life.
