Last Sunday, I parked myself inside the McDonald’s in order to write. Those of you who know me even a little might find this an odd choice, but this is my new hangout, since it’s right next to the supercharger and they have good WiFi. Anyway, as I was sitting there, this happened:
The group of people sitting at the table started singing. No announcement. No counting-in. Just started singing. And as the sun was rising, and they finished their song, I could hear the distinctive noise of a bunch of foam boxes – – containing McPancakes, or McMuffins, or McWhatever they were eating – – open up.
I found it all entirely touching. Even the simple act of eating breakfast at a McDonald’s was worthy of a song of gratitude. We could all learn something from that, I think.
