A Cup of Hope
She was new at the office cafeteria — a drive-by joint where we’d roll down our windows and she’d hand over our caffeine fixes with a smile that could light up a rainy evening. Always in her red-and-white uniform, always cheerful. And she had this habit — dropping a quirky line with every order.
“Bad day? This cup’s got your back.!”
“This one’s brewed with a little extra magic today!”
We never exchanged more than a few words. But she had this energy, like she carried a little sunshine in her apron pocket.
One night, after a long day at work, I stopped by just as she was closing. I asked if I could still get a cold coffee. She glanced at the clock, smiled, and said, “For you? One last coffee escape!”
Grateful, I offered her a ride home since it was late. She hesitated, then agreed. That night became a routine — twice that week, maybe more the next. And during those short drives, I learned that behind her bright smile was a tougher story.
She was in her late twenties, juggling college and work, supporting herself without help from home. Her parents disapproved of her choices. She was fighting her battles quietly — the humor, the smiles, the friendly chatter? Her way of coping. Of choosing joy, even when life wasn’t handing her much.
Months passed. Her exams wrapped up — but so did her contract at the cafeteria.
I wanted to do something. I spoke to a friend in my department. We had an opening for a project assistant — six-month term, flexible, good pay. I asked her if she’d be interested.
She said yes.
Today, she walks into our office in crisp formals — the same girl who once handed me coffee through a window now sits in our team meetings with a laptop and notepad. Everyone loves having her around. Her smile? Still there. But now it feels fuller, like it belongs.
And yes, I still drop her home. Only now, she’s in formals instead of an apron. Still sunny, still strong. Just a little closer to the life she’s been fighting for.
It’s the little moments like these that make life feel special — and today, my heart’s holding onto one🙂
“Bad day? This cup’s got your back.!”
“This one’s brewed with a little extra magic today!”
We never exchanged more than a few words. But she had this energy, like she carried a little sunshine in her apron pocket.
One night, after a long day at work, I stopped by just as she was closing. I asked if I could still get a cold coffee. She glanced at the clock, smiled, and said, “For you? One last coffee escape!”
Grateful, I offered her a ride home since it was late. She hesitated, then agreed. That night became a routine — twice that week, maybe more the next. And during those short drives, I learned that behind her bright smile was a tougher story.
She was in her late twenties, juggling college and work, supporting herself without help from home. Her parents disapproved of her choices. She was fighting her battles quietly — the humor, the smiles, the friendly chatter? Her way of coping. Of choosing joy, even when life wasn’t handing her much.
Months passed. Her exams wrapped up — but so did her contract at the cafeteria.
I wanted to do something. I spoke to a friend in my department. We had an opening for a project assistant — six-month term, flexible, good pay. I asked her if she’d be interested.
She said yes.
Today, she walks into our office in crisp formals — the same girl who once handed me coffee through a window now sits in our team meetings with a laptop and notepad. Everyone loves having her around. Her smile? Still there. But now it feels fuller, like it belongs.
And yes, I still drop her home. Only now, she’s in formals instead of an apron. Still sunny, still strong. Just a little closer to the life she’s been fighting for.
It’s the little moments like these that make life feel special — and today, my heart’s holding onto one🙂
