Margaret

I was thinking about Margaret today. As much as customers can be the bane of a food service professionals life, they can also be the greatest blessing. Fortunately for me, the blessings outweigh the banes. We met Margaret the first week we were open. We were so overwhelmed by everything we didn't know about being in food service, owning a business, and the sheer number of hours that it takes to run such an enterprise, that Margaret was a dumpling of common sense in our chaos soup. She was retired, she had worked in a variety of food service jobs in WI, mostly school cafeterias. She had cared for her parents as they aged, and she was a very loyal friend to many older folks as they transitioned from being able to live independently to needing to be in some sort of care facility. She would bring them chocolate or shampoo or a book of crossword puzzles. Most importantly she would bring herself to visit. Some of these folks were estranged from family or family lived far away, and she could be a surrogate, and help keep them connected to the community. Margaret was very plain spoken, did not suffer fools gladly, loved the Chicago Cubs, and knit wonderful slippers and afghans. She actually created a little cottage industry to help her meet her expenses by selling slippers to local folks who would order a dozen pairs at a time for holiday gifts. I personally still have six or seven pairs which I keep under lock and key so that the gremlin that steals socks from the dryer will not run off with them. When we first met Margaret, she was still driving. She came in to the store and bought 2 slices of ham, "slice it thick, hon, I want to know what I'm eating," a quarter pound of seafood salad, and a loaf of bread. She spent $5.00 and you could tell from the transaction that this expenditure was her weekly treat. She would come in for coffee, she developed a passion for raspberry lattes, so we always had a bottle of sugar free raspberry syrup (she was diabetic). She would spend $2.00 for the latte (14 years ago, 2 bucks for coffee in rural central WI was a big deal), and then she could have free refills of regular coffee. She would bring her knitting and sit by our wood stove. We would talk about recipes and working in schools. She shared all of her large batch cookie recipes with me. She believed in us, enjoyed knowing us, and wasn't intimidated by the type of food we served or the customers who had lots of money. Everyone was equal in her eyes, good or bad. She would provide a commentary on the things she saw, and we would get the giggles when, in a quiet moment after the lunch rush, she would tell us the things she heard that we hadn't because we were busy. Or, even funnier, her opinions of what she saw or heard. It was that commentary that kept us grounded. It's very easy to get sucked into a world where money is the final arbiter of worth. We have customers who are so wealthy they have their own satellite, we've fed members of our congressional delegation, and television stars. It is tempting to make yourself feel more important because you have those connections. It was Margaret who called us to come pick up a hamburger casserole the day before Thanksgiving because she knew we were working long hours and wouldn't be cooking for ourselves. It was Margaret who asked us to stop for her at the market and get roasted peanuts in the shell so she could feed the squirrels who came to sit on her window ledge. As time went on, Margaret had to transition into a nursing home. It was out of town, so we didn't get to see her as often as we wanted to. We were able to send her some raspberry lattes when folks were heading in her direction, and her sister would stop in to take her some seafood salad. She couldn't get afford a phone, cell phones then were still hugely expensive, so we only got to talk to her every now & then. She passed a few years ago, and I expect she's found another comfortable place to sit and is providing a running commentary on what she sees and hears. I look forward to catching up someday, although I don't think I'll ever really get the Cubs thing.