A heartfelt moment came rushing back to me this morning as I sipped my coffee, and I felt compelled to share it with you all.

It was an early morning at Wegmans, and I was stocking candy by the registers. The peanut butter cups were my top priority—because, you know, someone has to keep the world running.

On my way back, I passed an elderly man. “Good morning,” I said. “How are you today?”

He hesitated, then replied, “Fine, but let’s be honest, no one really cares how I am.”

That stopped me. “I do,” I said. “That’s why I asked.”

He blinked, surprised. “You do?”

“Yes,” I said. “So… how are you really today?”

What happened next surprised me. He opened up about the weight of the holidays since his wife passed, his struggles to find meaning in such a fast-paced world, and some health concerns that had been bothering him. I just listened. No rushing, no fixing—just being there.

At the end, he put his hand on my shoulder. His voice cracked a little as he said, “Thank you. I’d forgotten how good it feels to connect with someone. I really needed this.”

I smiled. “It was my pleasure. If you see me here again, come say hello. I’d love to chat.”

Little did he know, I needed this too. In that moment, as tears welled up in my eyes, his gratitude felt like a lifeline, reminding me how unseen I had been feeling myself. That simple connection was as much a gift to me as it was to him.

Week after week, he found me. Slowly, I saw the change in him—the heaviness lifting, the spark returning. One week, he even joked about starting a “war” with his neighbor over holiday decorations, armed with nothing but a lawn chair and a single strand of lights.

That morning reminded me of something simple but powerful: kindness doesn’t have to move mountains. It can happen in the quiet moments when you see someone, truly see them, and remind them they matter.

Even if it’s next to the peanut butter cups. ❤️