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As I left, I noticed her wiping a table, hands shaking slightly. I quietly slipped a folded note and extra cash into the tip jar, turning that 10% into something more generous. The note read: “Everyone has tough days. I see your effort. I hope tomorrow treats you better.” I didn’t wait for a reaction—just met my wife outside.
Before we reached the car, the restaurant door opened, and she ran out, tears in her eyes. She apologized, not with excuses, but with honesty. She shared that she had been working double shifts while caring for a sick family member and was barely holding it together. She said the note made her feel seen for the first time that day. My wife, moments before ready to demand action, softened immediately. She hugged her and whispered words of comfort. Under the streetlights, the three of us stood together—strangers united by vulnerability.
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