In the town of Beaver, Utah, there is a little sandwich shoppe. Good food, cute decor, and that small town, home grown quality that makes customers feel at ease and welcome. Beaver is about 45 minutes away from my home town so I was able to stop in and enjoy a fresh cut sandwich from Patti’s Place.
A handful of items filled the menu, a few tiny tables filled the room, and witnessing a good deed nearly had tears filling my eyes. I’m not an emotional person. I keep things pretty well tapped down. But for some reason, the atmosphere in Patti’s Place is special.
A local gentleman stopped in for a bite. I don’t know his name. I don’t know his story. But for this, it doesn’t really matter. He ordered and reached in his pocket to pay. They brushed his attempt aside and gave him his meal “on the house”. From my seat near the back of the room, I watched this interaction with a lump in my throat.
I’m not sure if this happens often or the reasons behind such an act, but I do know that whoever Patti is, well, she deserves a pat on the back.