I had chicken fajitas the other night, the smell of fajita seasoning, sautéing onions and green peppers permeated the kitchen. The counter was full of containers with lettuce, olives, onions, sour cream, salsa, and cheese. The smell hit me and my memory went back several years to fajitas in San Diego.
It was an unexpected trip, coming out after my dad had emergency surgery while at a conference. Trying to keep our costs down while there, my mom and I shared these enormous fajitas served at the hotel restaurant. We would even have enough left over for another meal. And the fajitas were good, packed with meat and dripping with this flavorful sauce.
Our hostess at the restaurant, nearly every night there for a while, would take our order and we struck up conversations with her. Mom and I were feeling pretty disconnected from everyone at this point, on the west coast without any contacts. But, when we would finish up eating fajitas and ask for a box to take it back to the hotel room, we would find extra shells, meat, etc… tucked inside. The gesture was small, the impact was enormous. That small bit of love from a college student waitressing her way through to pay the bills, I pray that she is blessed back many many times over in her life.
So, I had fajitas the other night and they were really good. They reminded me of that girl. I wondered what she was doing, if she was still in California, and if she knew that she has an important impact on her world.