I was hungry and impatient, waiting in line at McDonalds, searching for what would do the least amount of damage to my stomach and my wallet. After perusing the menu and finally making my decision, I resumed waiting, and my eyes roamed. Taking in my surroundings, I had noticed that the man in front of me was wearing army fatigues and boots. I'm not usually very observant, but I could tell a lot from what this man was wearing. His uniform told me he was a Private named 'Robbins', and that he was comfortable and proud to wear the uniform. Proud of his country. He had volunteered to serve for his country. And those were his parents next to him, smiles in their eyes, desperately happy to have their son back home for a few precious days. They were laughing with him, talking about all they were going to do. They were talking about having some kind of party with the rest of the family in the next few days. A barbecue. I wasn't really listening, though. My mind was on other things, like ordering my food.

 

But right then, a cute little girl walked up close to the man named Robbins. She was a complete stranger, and Robbins and his family stopped laughing. She stood there, a few feet away, looking at him with a shy smile on her face, as if she really wanted to talk to him but didn't have the words. She had a basket in her hand.

She finally walked up to him, slowly, pulling a little bag of mushy, soggy brownies from her basket, and I saw tears in her eyes. She looked like she had been through a lot.

She had swallowed her fear, she looked up at him, brave and daring. With the bag of those soggy brownies in her outstretched hand.

"I made these for you." She sniffed. "I saw you, and I thought...I mean, I don't know you, but...I know your clothes. My-my brother wore those clothes."

There was an awkward pause as the man and the girl looked at each other. Then she said, "He died...in Iraq."

The man slowly took the bag of brownies from her hand, but I could tell he didn't quite know what to say. I can't blame him, I wouldn't know what to say either. I could see tears in his eyes, and on the cheeks of his mother and dad.

"Oh...thank you so much." Robbins said as he wrapped his hands around hers, and looked into her eyes. "I'm so sorry about your brother. I'm sure he was a good man."

The little girl wiped her hand across her cheek, smearing a bit of chocolate across her face. "He was the best!"

She wrapped her entire body around Robbins' leg, hugging him tightly, as if he were the last thing on earth. "He was just like you!"

 

Watching them, I had long since forgotten about what I was going to order. I had forgotten about hunger.

Robbins bent down, took a napkin and wiped the smudge from the girl's face. "You know, I wish there were more people in the world like you. I really do."

I heard someone crying. It was me. I looked around. The girl behind the counter was also in tears. She was supposed to be taking orders, but nobody was ordering anything. They were all watching the little girl and Private Robbins, and they were silently crying.

I had never seen anything like this. It seemed like everybody in the entire restaraunt was crying. Some more, some less.

Robbins was now hugging the little girl tightly, as if they had known each other for years, and they were long-lost friends.

"Can you tell me," He finally asked her, "what was your brother's name?"

She wiped her hair, stood up, looked him in the eye. "Alan." She said, simply.

The man's eyes flared up for a second with recognition. "What? What's the last name??" He demanded.

"san...Sanfold." The girl stammered, a bit confused.

Robbins sat there on his knees in front of the girl for a second, stunned.

What are the odds? Is it possible?