Jessie had never been one to back down from a challenge. When she started her new job as a waitress at a busy local restaurant, she was eager to prove herself. But on her first day, she quickly learned that not all challenges came in the form of balancing trays or remembering complicated orders. Some came in the form of a single, grumpy old man.
“Alright, Jessie, since you’re the new girl, you get table 13,” Mark, one of her coworkers, said as she tied her apron around her waist.
Jessie frowned. “Table 13? What’s so special about it?”
Mark chuckled and tilted his head towards the far corner of the restaurant. “See for yourself.”
Jessie turned and spotted an older man hunched over the menu. He was dressed in a worn-out suit, his white hair slightly unkempt, and deep lines creased his face. To her, he just looked like any other customer.
“It’s just an old man. What’s the big deal?” she asked, puzzled.
Mark smirked. “Oh, honey. You’ll see. No one here likes serving him. He complains about everything.”
Jessie straightened her shoulders. “I can handle anything.”
She walked over to the table, her best waitress smile firmly in place. “Hi, sir! My name’s Jessie. What would you like to drink today?”
The old man lowered his menu just enough to glare at her. “Who are you?”
“I’m your waitress today,” she said, keeping her voice cheerful. “Can I get you something to drink?”
He scoffed. “I always order the same thing, and you people ask me that every time. Iced tea. Not too cold, not too sweet. Two lemon wedges. And bring me a straw.”
“Coming right up! And do you know what you’d like for lunch?”
“Not yet. Now go get my iced tea!” he snapped.
Jessie’s eyebrows rose slightly, but she nodded and walked away. Mark hadn’t been joking. This guy was a handful.
When she brought the iced tea, the complaints started immediately.
“Too sweet.”
She remade it.
“Too cold.”
She adjusted it again.
“These lemon wedges barely have any juice.”
Jessie took a deep breath and forced a smile. “I’ll bring more lemons.”
Then came the straw.
“Why is it made of paper? These things get soggy.”
“We only have paper straws now,” she explained.
He huffed. “Stupid, softy generation. Fine. I’ll take the lasagna.”
Jessie barely caught the menu as he tossed it at her. She clenched her jaw but refused to let him ruin her mood. When his food arrived, the complaints started all over again.
By the time he finally finished, she had served six other tables. At least he left a tip.
At the end of her shift, Jessie slumped against the counter. “I should’ve listened to you,” she told Mark.
Mark laughed. “Told ya. But hey, someone’s gotta take him.”
Jessie sighed but refused to let one bad customer get to her. She was working this job for her family. She had five kids at home, and her husband, Bob, worked long hours to support them. But it wasn’t enough, so she had to step in. Her mother watched the younger kids while she worked, but Jessie still felt guilty. She barely saw her children before she collapsed into bed each night, promising herself she’d do better the next day.
But each day was harder than the last. And Mr. Norton, as she learned his name, never got any easier.
For years, Jessie served the grumpy old man. She learned to handle his tantrums with patience, something that impressed her coworkers. She also learned bits and pieces about his life. Most days, he was impossible, but there were rare moments when he softened, asking about her kids or telling her about the past.
And no matter how much he grumbled, he always left a 15% tip.
Then, one day, he didn’t.
Instead, on his table, Jessie found a key and a note. Her brows furrowed as she picked them up.
“What’s this?” she muttered, unfolding the note. She read aloud:
“Dear Jessie, thank you for putting up with this old grump for so long. I’m going to a special hospice facility now, so I won’t be back. This is the key to my house. It’s yours. I’ve left my lawyer’s card so you can arrange everything. Goodbye, dear. P.S. My tea was too sweet today, but I didn’t complain. See? My time is coming.”
Jessie’s hands trembled. “No… this has to be a mistake.”
She knew he had a family. Why would he leave his house to a stranger?
She contacted the lawyer and got the address of the hospice facility. When she visited, she barely recognized Mr. Norton. He was frail, his skin pale, his voice weaker than she had ever heard.
“You came,” he murmured.
Jessie sat beside his bed. “Of course, I did. But why? What about your children?”
He sighed. “They hate me. Haven’t seen them in years. I was grumpy to everyone, pushed everyone away. The only person who ever treated me with patience was you. So, keep the house for your family. It’s big. And it should belong to someone who knows how to handle old things.”
Jessie’s heart broke. She hadn’t realized when she had grown fond of him, but the idea of him dying alone was unbearable.
That weekend, she brought her children to meet him. The moment they ran into the room, filling it with laughter and chatter, something incredible happened—Mr. Norton smiled. A real, warm smile.
That moment was worth more than any tip.
A few weeks later, Mr. Norton passed away. Jessie inherited the house. His lawyer confirmed that his family wanted nothing, so his entire estate went to her. There wasn’t much besides the home, but it was more than enough.
For the first time, her children had their own rooms. She and Bob earned promotions, easing their financial struggles. Their lives changed completely.
But Jessie never forgot Mr. Norton. To honor him, she and her family volunteered at a local senior center, especially paying attention to the grumpy ones. Because she knew—they were grumpy for a reason.
Lesson from this story:
Older people need as much patience as children. Jessie, a mother of five, was the only one who could handle Mr. Norton because she understood that underneath his grumpiness, he was just a lonely old man.
Kindness has a way of coming back in unexpected ways. Jessie never imagined that serving an irritable old man would change her life, but her patience and warmth led to a gift that transformed her family’s future.
