USA. A Mexican restaurant. We had not yet ordered anything, and the food was already arriving.
Chips. Salsa. Unrequested. Free.
I stopped the waiter. "We have not earned these."
"They just come with the table, man."
They come with the TABLE. In my land, hospitality is a debt. Every gift creates an obligation, weighed carefully, returned in the proper season with interest of feeling. Here, the gift arrives before you have even proven you can pay for dinner.
This is not an appetizer. This is a declaration: we trust you. Eat.
I ate with the gravity the moment deserved. And then — I must report this calmly — the basket emptied, and a new one appeared.
"Did we…?"
"Refill," the waiter said. "It's bottomless."
Bottomless. They have wells of salsa. The supply lines of this nation are beyond anything my ancestors imagined.
My friend warned me. "Don't fill up on chips, dude."
Too late. I had accepted three baskets. Honor demanded each one be finished — an unfinished gift is an insult. By the time my actual food arrived, I was a ruined man.
I was not hungry. I was not comfortable. I had been defeated by a courtesy.
Generosity that arrives before the request cannot be repaid. It can only be survived.
I know the rule now. I have made my peace with the basket. One basket. Two at the most.
Who am I deceiving. There is no number of baskets I would refuse. The trust of a nation is in that salsa, and I intend to honor all of it.
What an honor it was to put together this story on the Minco High School softball team. After a bus accident in September, the team will take the field for the first time in 5 months.
“In Jesus’ name, Amen”
This might be the best thing you’ll see today. Jeremiah is an absolute stud. Watch this interview and look out for a powerful prayer at the end with @derekcarrqb. @LorraineGolden_
I’ve been so scared to share this publicly but last year when I got my pf*zer v*ccine I was convulsing like this uncontrollably for months and it’s put such a strain on my life. Y’all be safe.
College football on the TV tonight, but I keep watching this on my phone.
Taylor Hawkins’ son sits in with the Foo Fighters to honor his late father.
It’s the song you hope it is.
But it’s better than you could ever imagine.
https://t.co/wr7SA4E5cv