i will never set foot in one again. tonight, i was reminded why i hate buffets.
so, my parents wanted to eat at hometown buffet tonight. why, i will never know. but we went, and the second i set foot in that restaurant, i was just overcome with a wave of sadness and despair. xO when i was little, hometown buffet was a place full of laughter and warmth and families coming together to eat. today, it was a lifeless place, full of people who did not look happy, and was just trying to shuffle as much food as possible into their empty stomachs before their next meal. i saw one family coming in with multiple children, counting out their money to pay at the counter. they put down all their cash, and the lady asked them, “do you have 75 cents?” and the two adults were in such a frenzy, patting their pockets and wallets. they scrummaged 75 cents and when they made it through the paying process, they looked relieved & rushed. their children ran to the food before they even made it to a table. it simply broke my heart.
but what warmed my heart at this buffet tonight. was a little girl named Amanda, suffering from down syndrome. i was up getting some water, and i heard a distressed voice somewhere behind me saying “sweetheart, please you have to eat. you haven’t eaten in two days.” i turn around, and there at a lone table for two, was a father, and his mentally ill daughter. he was trying to shovel some spaghetti into her mouth, but she refused to eat. she was wearing a bib, and noodles and spaghetti sauce were just dripping down her bib and mouth. and the father started to cry. and people were just standing and staring, like idiots, whispering in hushed tones, and looking at the pair as if they had an infectious disease. i put down my water and walked over to the table and bent down to the girl’s level. I asked the father how old she was, and what her name was.
He replied, “My baby girl. Her name is Amanda. She’s eight years old. As you can see…she has down syndrome. She won’t eat. She’s sad.”
I didn’t want to pry, so I just nodded sympathetically. And the emotional man just kept talking. “Her mother left us a few days ago. And now she refuses to eat.” I mumbled my apologies and looked at Amanda. I picked up a napkin and started wiping away at her mouth and cleaning her bib, the father just watched, an emotional wreck. And then, with permission from my parents who were walking back to the dinner table with their food, I stayed there with Amanda and her dad for a few minutes. First, I just chattered away into Amanda’s ear, talking about how pretty she was, and how I liked her bib and her nice red pants. And I just kept talking, and Amanda just kept looking at me, with the same stare. I hoped that somewhere inside of her, she was listening and understanding me. I could see why her father was such an emotional wreck now. I was about to cry myself. With permission from her dad, I took a small forkful of noodles, and tried to feed Amanda. Of course, she didn’t eat. The dad made some sort of squeaking noise with his throat. I put the fork down, and started talking some more, trying to be as exuberant as I could, moving my hands, and using different voices. Anything to entertain the girl. I tried feeding her again. And she refused over and over again. And each time, I would patiently put the fork down, and start story telling again.
Finally, after ten minutes, she took a bite. And her dad started crying even more. I gave Amanda a hug, and a smile to her father, and got my cup of water, and walked back to my table.
” A little consideration, a little thought for others, makes all the difference.” — Winnie the Pooh.
“You can’t always sit in your corner of the forest and wait for people to come to you… you have to go to them sometimes.” — Winnie the Pooh
<3 samantha
