I am new to the area of Fall River. Having recently returned from the west coast, a tradition I picked up was frequenting coffee shops when I needed "me" time to do paperwork, tweak my thousands of photographic images, or simply to sit and reflect, uninterrupted. There are not very many Starbucks locations here. Not too long ago, I walked into this one located at the South Coast Marketplace. It's a little out of my way, but I have come to establish this one as my Starbucks. Maybe it's the atmosphere of the place, I don't know. The team that works there, I do know, are friendly, courteous, and only happy to engage. There does not seem to be a managerial presence when I'm there. This group of younger baristas present an attitude of eagerness to please as they serve. I was there tonight. It's winter and the cold is starting to bite. My son passed away last year and one of the special things I have to remember him by is a Classic Beanie. I decided to wear it today. It felt good to pull it out of my dresser drawer and onto my head. I had a lot going on today so my mind was all over the place. Anyway, I knew I walked into Starbucks with the beanie on. I did not want to leave it in my car. After a couple of hours, it was closing time, a little early but understandable. I walked out, saying thank you guys, with a still enthusiastic response. I reached into my jacket for the beanie. It wasn't there. I thought to myself it's probably in my bag (which I use to carry the devices I need to work). It wasn't there. A panic immediately started to kick in as I looked in my car, under the seats, in the glove box, in my jacket again, and dumped the contents of the bag, now in an apparent panic. I turned to look at the distance I travelled from Starbucks. The beanie was no where in sight. As I slowly walked back to check inside, I was already devastated at the idea of the lost Classic Beanie. I got to the door which was already locked, and lightly tapped on the glass. I tapped again getting someone's attention. I understand their initial reluctance to approach me. I just kept gesturing hand on head, meaning the beanie. Finally Cam came to the door (it's also nice to frequent a place where people know you by name). It didn't look like he was holding anything in his hands. When he opened the door, I was cut short of asking the question, with a "Are you looking for this?" The Classic Beanie! I just said thank you so much for keeping it safe, took it, and just started to walk away because I did not want to get emotional. I just said thank you, and he said you're welcome Gabe. Again, by name. It's little things like this, that when people are not aware of the gravity of another's seemingly trivial crisis, and still maintain that affect of care that restores my faith in humanity. It is a grand statement to make, I realize. I am in the field of healthcare, alongside my passion for photography. In today's chaotic world, there is a general tendency to lose sight of the truly essential things in life, as Antoine de Saint-Exupery penned it, because they are invisible to the eye. I have rambled much longer than I intended. I am compelled however, as it is my duty to confess my renewed hope that the basic good in human nature is innate, and will continue to thrive, latent as it may be. I called Cam from my car and asked him for the manager's name. He was clueless as to what I had just been through. He humbly replied it wasn't necessary to call his manager. I insisted and let Cam know that it was important to me. Again, it's all the unnoticed little things that add up to reveal an entire whole. Yes, undoubtedly epic! read more