For nearly twenty years, my mother, Cathy, was the welcoming presence at Beller’s Bakery, a small neighborhood shop that felt more like a community hub than a business. She arrived early each morning, prepared fresh coffee, and greeted customers as if they were old friends. People returned not just for pastries but because she remembered their stories and made them feel valued. Her approach showed me that kindness could be a natural part of someone’s everyday work.
One evening during a heavy storm, as she prepared to close the shop, she noticed a veteran sitting outside in the rain. Instead of walking past, she gathered the unsold items that would have been discarded and offered him food and a warm drink. Her gesture wasn’t dramatic or meant to be noticed; it was simply who she was. The next morning, her manager informed her that reopening the shop and giving away food violated company policy. Despite her many years of service, she was let go. She was saddened not by the loss of the position itself, but by the realization that an act of care had led to consequences she hadn’t expected.
Years later, I started a company focused on reducing food waste by connecting restaurants with shelters and community programs. When a management candidate applied for a position and spoke about strict policy enforcement, including referencing my mother’s situation from years past, it became clear that our values did not align. Once I shared that she was my mother, the conversation shifted, but I knew he wasn’t the right fit. The decision wasn’t about the past—it was about building a team guided by empathy, responsibility, and community-centered thinking.
Today, my mother leads our outreach initiatives, coordinating donations and mentoring volunteers with the same warmth she once brought to the bakery. The compassion that once cost her a job now serves a larger purpose, helping ensure good food reaches people who need it. Her story reminds me that doing the right thing may not always be easy in the moment, but it can inspire lasting change when given the chance to grow.