I SAW A STRANGE NOTE IN ONE OF THE LUNCH BAGS
A Simple Table, a Hidden Connection
On the way to the library, I noticed a folding table with a handmade sign: “FREE LUNCH FOR ANYONE WHO NEEDS.” At first, I didn’t give it much thought—until I was broke and hungry. I picked up a lunch bag: peanut butter sandwich, apple slices, a granola bar—and a note.
Messages That Felt Personal
The first note read: “If you’re reading this, I think we’re connected in more ways than you know.”
More followed. One asked, “You used to live on Linden St, didn’t you?”—my childhood street. Then came another: “Tomorrow. Come back early. I’ll be there.”
A Familiar Stranger
The next day, I met Clara. She was kind, nervous—and familiar. She told me she had been my mom’s best friend. Before my mom passed, she had asked Clara to look out for me.
“I didn’t want to intrude,” Clara said. “So I started with lunch.”
She handed me a letter from my mom and a key to a storage unit. Inside, I found a chest full of keepsakes—our memories, her love.
Passing Love On
Over time, Clara and I grew close. She introduced me to a small community that helped run the lunch table. With them, I began to heal.
My mom’s love didn’t end with her life. It lived on—in Clara, in those notes, in shared sandwiches.
Now, I help run the table, too.
“Be the note, the lunch, the sign someone’s looking for.”
