Last week I stopped by the drop box at the Enumclaw U.S. Mail Distribution Center to mail a birthday card for my grandson, Garrick, who was turning 16 in a few days.
The second I let the card drop, I realized it didn’t have a stamp. And without it, he would never get the card in time.
I noticed the gate to the center’s parking lot was opened, so I pulled in and went up to the door. I knocked four or five times. No one answered.
After I returned to the car, I just couldn’t leave; my grandson and his birthday meant everything to me. I said a few prayers and as stubborn and relentless as people know me to be, I tried once more. This time, an employee named Richard answered. He must have wondered what I was up to, so I just explained my dilemma -- I even had a tear in my eye.
“I don’t think you can help me, but...”
Just like something you’d see in the movies, Richard just stood there and stared. I am sure at this point that he must have wondered about me.
Without any hesitation, he said “OK.” He leaned over into a large bin where the mail had dropped and dug through a few pieces before he finally found it.
This time, I quickly affixed a stamp, handed it back and thanked him again.
This might have been just a small gesture to Richard, but his efforts meant the world to me.
I just want to give a big thanks to the Post Office and to Richard for the service he provided but wasn’t required to do. We hear so many complaints nowadays about the lack of customer service. But Richard proved that in my hometown of Enumclaw, heroes still care about the little things.
And, by the way, Garrick got his card in time.