Whitney Waits Tables (Sort Of!)

This story is more than just words on a page—it’s a cherished memory from my heart. It all happened in Flint, Michigan, where my daughter Whitney spent many afternoons with her paternal grandmother, lovingly called “Grandma Ha.” Grandma Ha wasn’t just a grandmother; she was a force of nature—kind, resourceful, and always full of life. She owned a small restaurant in town, a place that smelled like fresh bread and warm soup, where laughter filled the air and friends were always welcome. One particular day stands out vividly in my mind. I was working late, and Whitney was spending the day with her Grandma Ha, as she often did. But this day was different—the waitress called in sick, leaving Grandma Ha shorthanded. Rather than fret, Grandma Ha turned to her little helper, Whitney, and gave her a notepad, a pen, and a warm smile. What happened next was pure magic. Whitney, with her endless curiosity and determination, stepped up in a way that melted my heart. She not only helped her gran