The Old Chinese Man at 99 Ranch
Sometime in high school, in the early 2000s, I was grabbing lunch with my dad at the Chinese supermarket, 99 Ranch1. We decided to have some of the hot food from the Chinese buffet. It was a little busy, so Dad told me to try and find a seat while he bought the food.
I walked around the small eating area looking for a table, checking to see if anyone was finishing up soon. An elderly Chinese man who was eating a couple of bakery baos made eye contact with me. I could tell he had just sat down and started. I gave a thin smile in acknowledgement, and he returned a nod.
Then I noticed that he was starting to eat a little faster, taking huge bites and then making quick glances at me. I realized he was trying to finish quickly so that he could give his table to me. He didn't tell me he was trying to eat fast so we could have his spot, but he didn't need to. I remember getting nervous, wanting to tell this elderly man to slow down and not to worry about me. He was old, and who knew what rushing to eat could do to him. I also recall feeling bashful about trying to communicate, since I was pretty sure he spoke Cantonese and I only knew Mandarin. Now I know I probably could've said something in Mandarin and he would've understood.
I was still looking for a table, but now I was concerned about this old man, too. I guess it didn't help that I kept looking at him, because that probably made him rush more. I noticed he was on his second bao already! Slow down dude, my dad and I will be ok!
Just as he got halfway through that second bao, I heard a voice calling from behind me. "Andrew, over here." My dad had found a table.
I walked over to my join my dad and, being the shy kid I was, just raised my hand by my hip hoping the old man would notice my acknowledgement. I'm not sure he saw. When I sat down, I noticed the old man's pace slow significantly, finally giving all the bao that he had shoved into his mouth the attention it needed.
I remember eating that meal feeling grateful and appreciative, but also ashamed. I was so thankful that that old man was willing to forego a nice, calm meal to try and give me and my dad his table. A wonderful act that wasn't completely fulfilled, but incredibly appreciated nonetheless. I also couldn't help but beat myself up for not having the courage to say something at any point. Not even one of "It's ok, please don't rush", "We can find another seat", "Thank you". I desperately wanted to tell my dad to wait and take the old man's table, but at the same time, I wanted to let him finish his meal in peace. I felt like crying for all those reasons, but I didn't.
I'll never get to thank that old man for what he did, but his small act of kindness left an impression on me my whole adult life. Since then I've resolved myself to be more generous with my thank yous and to acknowledge peoples' efforts to do something nice for me. And with the memory it left me, I have also realized that it's worth it to try and do something nice for someone, even if the reason for it goes away.
1 Growing up I used to call it Ranch 99