{"id":119483,"date":"2025-03-27T15:57:16","date_gmt":"2025-03-27T08:57:16","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lorevista.com\/?p=119483"},"modified":"2025-03-27T15:57:25","modified_gmt":"2025-03-27T08:57:25","slug":"i-found-a-note-on-my-dash-and-someone-thanked-me-for-waiting","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lorevista.com\/i-found-a-note-on-my-dash-and-someone-thanked-me-for-waiting\/","title":{"rendered":"I Found A Note On My Dash – And Someone Thanked Me For Waiting"},"content":{"rendered":"
I Found A Note On My Dash – And Someone Thanked Me For Waiting\n
I was just coming out of the grocery store. Hands full, tired, baby fussing in the car seat, same routine as always. I wasn\u2019t thinking about anything except getting home before the ice cream melted and hoping today wasn\u2019t the day I\u2019d cry in a parking lot.\n
Then I saw the envelope tucked under my wiper.\n
For a second, my stomach dropped. I thought it was a ticket. Or worse, a passive-aggressive note about how crooked I parked.\n
But it wasn\u2019t.\n
It was folded neatly, with two bills inside\u2014two crisp twenties.\n
And a handwritten message that made my knees go soft.\n
\u201cI noticed the sticker on the back of your car. Take your hero out to dinner when he comes home. Thank you both for serving. Him deployed and you for waiting.\n
\u2014 United States Veteran God Bless\u201d\n
I had forgotten the sticker was even there. The little yellow ribbon that had started peeling at the edges. My husband\u2019s name. His unit. His deployment date.\n
Whoever left that note\u2026 they didn\u2019t know how hard the waiting had been. How quiet the nights were. How many meals I made for one. How I talked to old voicemails just to hear his voice.\n
But somehow, they saw me.\n
And in that tiny act of kindness, they reminded me that I wasn\u2019t invisible.\n
That waiting was its own kind of service.\n
I never found out who left it.\n
But when he finally did come home?\n
We used that money.\n
And I told him the whole story\u2014right before he cried into his burger.\n
\n
The weeks leading up to his return were a blur of anticipation and anxiety. I cleaned the house until it sparkled, planned the perfect welcome home meal, and spent hours just staring at the calendar. Every night, I\u2019d read that note again, the words a balm to my weary soul.\n
Then, finally, the day arrived. The airport was a chaotic mix of emotions\u2014joy, relief, and the almost unbearable tension of waiting for those doors to open. And then, there he was, walking towards me, a little thinner, a little more tired, but still my Ben.\n
The first few days were a whirlwind. We laughed, we cried, we held each other close. It was like we were rediscovering each other, piecing together the fragments of our lives that had been separated by distance and time.\n
One evening, I pulled out the envelope, the bills still crisp, the note still perfectly folded. \u201cSomeone left this on my car,\u201d I said, handing it to Ben.\n
He read it, his eyes widening, and then he looked at me, a mix of disbelief and gratitude on his face. \u201cThey did this? For us?\u201d\n
I nodded. \u201cThey saw the sticker, Ben. They saw me waiting.\u201d\n
We decided to go to a small, local diner, a place we\u2019d loved before he left. As we sat there, surrounded by the comforting sounds of clinking silverware and quiet chatter, I told him about the note, about the stranger\u2019s kindness, about how much it had meant to me.\n
He listened, his eyes filled with tears, and when I finished, he reached across the table and took my hand. \u201cThank you,\u201d he said, his voice thick with emotion. \u201cThank you for waiting. Thank you for everything.\u201d\n
That night, we ate burgers and fries, and we talked for hours, catching up on everything we\u2019d missed. And when the bill came, we paid with the money from the note, a silent tribute to the stranger who had reminded us that we weren\u2019t alone.\n
A few weeks later, Ben started volunteering at the local veterans\u2019 center. He wanted to give back, to help others who had gone through what he had. He\u2019d come home with a different perspective, a deeper understanding of the ripple effect of kindness.\n
One afternoon, while I was visiting Ben at the center, I noticed an elderly man sitting alone in a corner. He looked familiar, but I couldn\u2019t quite place him.\n
As I approached, I saw a familiar worn out baseball cap that had the letters USV. Then it hit me.\n
\u201cExcuse me,\u201d I said, my voice trembling slightly. \u201cAre you\u2026 are you the veteran who left the note?\u201d\n
He looked up, startled, his eyes\u2014a faded blue\u2014meeting mine. \u201cI\u2026 I don\u2019t know what you\u2019re talking about, ma\u2019am.\u201d\n
I pulled out a copy of the note that I always kept in my purse. \u201cThis note,\u201d I said, handing it to him. \u201cDid you write this?\u201d\n
He took the note, his hands shaking slightly, and read it. A slow smile spread across his face. \u201cYes,\u201d he said, his voice barely a whisper. \u201cYes, I did.\u201d\n
I felt tears welling up in my eyes. \u201cThank you,\u201d I said. \u201cThank you so much. It meant the world to me.\u201d\n
He nodded, his eyes filled with emotion. \u201cI saw your sticker,\u201d he said. \u201cAnd I remembered\u2026 remembered how hard it was for my wife, waiting for me. I wanted you to know\u2026 you weren\u2019t alone.\u201d\n
We talked for a long time, about Ben\u2019s deployment, about the sacrifices families make, about the power of small acts of kindness. His name was Silas, and he had served in Vietnam. He told me about the loneliness, the isolation, the feeling of being forgotten. He told me how much it meant to him to see that yellow ribbon, a symbol of solidarity.\n
The twist came a few months later. Silas had been a quiet man, someone who kept to himself. But after our meeting, he started to open up. He began sharing his stories, his experiences, his wisdom. He became a mentor to the younger veterans at the center, a beacon of hope and resilience. He even wrote a small memoir, filled with stories of service, sacrifice, and the enduring power of human connection. The book was a hit in the community.\n
Silas\u2019s note, that simple act of kindness, had not only touched my life but had also sparked a transformation in his. He found a new purpose, a new way to serve, a new way to connect.\n
The life lesson here is that kindness is a ripple effect. A single act, a simple gesture, can have a profound impact, not only on the recipient but also on the giver. It can heal wounds, restore hope, and create connections that transcend time and circumstance. We are all connected, and even the smallest acts of empathy can make a world of difference.\n
Don\u2019t underestimate the power of a kind word, a helping hand, a simple act of recognition. You never know whose life you might touch, whose heart you might heal.\n
If this story resonated with you, please share it. And if you enjoyed it, give it a like. Your support allows these stories to reach more people, and who knows, maybe inspire a few more acts of kindness along the way.\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I Found A Note On My Dash – And Someone Thanked Me For Waiting I was just coming out of the grocery store. Hands full, tired, baby fussing in the car seat, same routine as always. I wasn\u2019t thinking about anything except getting home before the ice cream melted and hoping today wasn\u2019t the day\n","protected":false},"author":10,"featured_media":119486,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_seopress_robots_primary_cat":"none","_seopress_titles_title":"","_seopress_titles_desc":"","_seopress_robots_index":"","_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[855],"tags":[],"class_list":{"0":"post-119483","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","5":"has-post-thumbnail","7":"category-story"},"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/lorevista.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/03\/617.jpg","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lorevista.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/119483","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lorevista.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lorevista.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lorevista.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/10"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lorevista.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=119483"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/lorevista.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/119483\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":119487,"href":"https:\/\/lorevista.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/119483\/revisions\/119487"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lorevista.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/119486"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lorevista.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=119483"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lorevista.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=119483"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lorevista.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=119483"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}