In the name of Jesus, the world could use a whole lot more kindness.
By Bobby Ross Jr. | The Christian Chronicle
A random act of kindness made my day.
My 4-year-old granddaughter squirmed in her car seat as we pulled into the Chick-fil-A drive-thru.
Just after 6 a.m., Norah was wide awake and excited after a sleepover at her Papa and Nana’s house.
I rolled down my window and Norah’s, too, as we awaited our chicken and scrambled eggs. Norah giggled as she lifted her bare feet into the breeze.
“Norah, please keep your toes inside the car,” I requested, only making her tee-hee more.
After just a minute, a Chick-fil-A team member with a familiar face — let’s be honest, I’m a regular — arrived with our food and chocolate milk.
“You brought somebody with you today,” the team member said with a smile.
“Yes, it’s my granddaughter,” I replied, proudly.
“How many grandkids do you have?” she asked.
“Two. Norah has an older brother, Bennett.”
Then the woman handed me two little plastic bags with stuffed cows inside, in keeping with Chick-fil-A’s “Eat Mor Chikin” slogan.
It was just a tiny gesture. But as I drove away, I couldn’t help but feel better about the world.
This column appears in the March print edition of The Christian Chronicle.
Shutterstock photo
Faith. Family. Fastballs. 