Waffle Woman

"I've been waffling since '85," she said to us, pointing to her name tag which held that information, as well as her name: Waffle Woman

And for as many times as I've been to that same Waffle House, sat in that same booth and ordered the same hashbrowns—scattered, smothered, peppered, well-done—I've only ever known her to be Waffle Woman.

She talked to us about her children by birth and through fostering, about how her oldest is at University, completely paid for by Waffle House, her checks having been garnished for as long as she can remember; chip-chipping away for someone else's future. And she's made quite a hefty dent by simply being Waffle Woman.

"I love what I do!" And she does. It's evident. Because she loves what she does, I love eating there. It's some of the best service I'll ever get, and that's because her heart is alive and spilling, dripping love into every cup of coffee and greeting she serves up. The food tastes better because there's a little bit of Waffle Woman in that place.

What a shame she's stuck in a dead-end job and working for peanuts. How tragic to give up her dreams and waste away as a waitress named Waffle Woman.

Are you tempted to think these things? Me, too.

And really, in our most self-righteous and judgmental moments, we are the pitiful, not Waffle Woman.

While we chase our dreams and shake our heads in elitist compassion at those we pass along the way, those who "gave up" to raise a family and hold an appallingly ordinary job, do we ever consider that they might be shaking their heads right back at us?

I look at Waffle Woman and I see beauty more alive and vivid than any model gracing the cover of a magazine. She doesn't wear makeup, doesn't color her hair, and doesn't have white teeth.

But when she smiles, she means it.

She doesn't have to pretend to be fulfilled. She is. The lady with the brassy-gold "Waffle Woman" name tag, holding down a job and raising three kids... she doesn't have to search for reasons to smile.

That's because she quit chasing dreams when she realized they weren't running from her.

They were 3 beautiful faces waiting for her, everyday. Her dreams were realized in cups of coffee and pecan waffles. So don't pity Waffle Woman. She would find it absurd. Don't pity the ones who "settled." They're probably far too absorbed into their ordinary fulfillment to know there's anyone who pities them at all.

Don't pity those who stopped chasing dreams. Not everyone who stops running quit the race. Some actually won it already and are simply enjoying their victory dinners. I hear Waffle house is a pretty good place for a victory dinner.

Waffle Woman can show you how to celebrate well.

Previous
Previous

The Dishes

Next
Next

Thoughts from the other side