Christmas Tree Day

I've been telling June all week that we are getting our tree Saturday morning.  Now that it's the day before, we've been talking about it all day long.  We like to go to Cracker Barrel for breakfast, then make the trek to Roopville, accidentally drive into Alabama, then back into Georgia to our beloved-favorite Christmas Tree Farm.  It's a nice way to kick off countless hours of frustrating tree-situating and happy decorating.   

I started remembering last year, Abigail's first Christmas, and the breakfast we had.  

June was so excited to be at "Crackel Barrel" and to peruse the gift store.  John and I were excited because eating at Cracker Barrel is a once-a-year treat, and eating out at all is a rare thing for us.  Abigail was sleeping happily in John's arms (she has always fit especially well there), and we were sitting at the table closest to the massive fireplace, which thankfully was housing a blazing fire.  There were older couples all around us, and they all spoke to us, but mostly to our girls.  Understandably.  We ate our deliciously hot breakfasts, laughed together, colored all over the kid menu, swapped kids between our laps several times, and just soaked up the peaceful time we had together on a Saturday with no work, no stress, and no obligations to meet.   

Breakfast consumed, it was time to go find our Christmas tree.  John flagged down our waitress for the check, who proceeded to tell him that it had been taken care of by a couple that had left a few minutes before.  After we managed to speak, we asked who in the world it was, and she pointed to their empty table.  It had been a couple probably our parents' ages who had talked to our girls, picked up fallen crayons and dolls, and even helped us mop up a mess of spilled orange juice.

John bolted out of his chair and jogged into the gift store looking for them.  He searched the parking lot, too.  They were gone, and we hadn't been able to thank them.  Thinking back to that, it still chokes me up to think of the kindness.  The waitress told me they had wanted to cover our check because we touched their hearts in the way we were with our children.  I had no idea the impression we made, but the way they touched our hearts has stuck with me ever since.  I hope we find ourselves sitting next them at Cracker Barrel in the winter one of these years so we can finally say a proper thank-you.