Generosity in Small Portions Story #2

I have been working at a hotel as a housekeeper for the past five years. The job has always been very enjoyable because of my co-workers, hotel guests, and the fact that there is always cleaning to be done (which makes the day go by really fast). Every once in a while, something really great happens while I am at work.

In the summer of 2007, I met a hotel guest who was a driver for a bus company; his name was Glen. We chatted as I cleaned his room one day about my future, his future, my life, his life, his grandchildren, and his passion for life. Glen is an incredibly special man. He told me about how he survived not one, not two, but three severe heart attacks. The doctors never thought he would make it through his first bypass surgery, but he has made it through three. He told me about how the doctors considered him a living miracle. I got to know Glen pretty well over this four night stay and we talked about everything from the importance of having a strong faith, to loving animals, and making family and friends a priority in life. He truly lived each day as a gift it truly is and told me his reason for staying healthy was so he could be there to watch his grandson grow up. When we met, he had not had a heart attack in over three years.

Unfortunately, I was out of the town the day he was scheduled to leave. When I came into work two days later, there was a card in my locker where I keep my things. I opened it to find a thoughtful thank you from Glen. He thanked me for our conversations, told me how I am a great asset to the hotel, and how I was just another one of God's gifts he had found. He ended up leaving me with money to put towards school--something incredibly generous of him. His card was unexpected, thoughtful, and kind. Glen impacted me. He crosses my mind from time to time because of the person he is and the qualities he possesses. Glen taught me that we are all living miracles and to live each day like it is your last.

His generosity was small. His impact was big. I will never forget Glen.