“To the usher at the Cardinals game who spent two innings finding my son a bottle of milk:
When I asked if you knew where to get milk for my son at Busch Stadium on that sweltering summer night, I was expecting a simple answer or perhaps being told there was none available.
Instead, you led us across several sections into the Redbird Club, even though our tickets didn’t grant us access, because you knew there was a bakery there—though it turned out they were out of milk.
Rather than giving up, you took us three levels down to a store on the main concourse.
Again, no luck, but you stayed with us the whole time.
Finally, you led us halfway around the stadium to a donut stand, and there we found what we needed.
As I paid, you grabbed the straw my son had been asking for, along with napkins.
Then you walked with us all the way back—across sections, up three levels, through the Redbird Club—to make sure we didn’t get lost.
It took two innings, but you ensured my son was happy.
You didn’t know why that milk was so important.
You might’ve thought my son was just being picky, or that I was giving in too easily to a toddler’s demands.
If you did, you never let it show.
You were kind and helpful throughout.
What you didn’t know is that beneath my son’s Yadi t-shirt, he has a central line and a feeding tube.
His body doesn’t work like most, and while he gets dehydrated quickly, drinking too much water could send us to the hospital.
For reasons that defy most logic, milk is what his body handles best right now.
You didn’t know how hard it’s been for us to go out spontaneously over the past few years, or that we had recently promised ourselves not to let his medical needs hold us back from enjoying life.
Accepting our friends’ last-minute offer of Cardinals tickets felt like a victory.
You didn’t know we might soon face another major surgery that could confine us to our house for weeks, maybe months, or that I’d forgotten his milk because I was distracted by a lengthy call from his doctor as we were rushing out the door, discussing changes to his care in a final attempt to avoid that surgery.
You didn’t know any of that.
You just saw a little boy who needed some milk, and you showed him kindness.
For that, I can’t thank you enough.”
Credit: Mildred Felix
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