Give Them the Chips — Michael and Stacy Come for Lunch
This is a local story, the kind that happens quietly and stays with you. It took place in a small café in a Vermont village, where the servers live by a simple motto: “Give them the chips.”
Years ago, my wife Barbara and I owned a lunch café in a historic village in Vermont.
It wasn’t big — twenty-one seats if you counted the chair with the wobbly leg — but it had heart. On good days, we turned the tables three times at lunch. People didn’t come for fancy décor… they came for connection.
A Family Affair
Our daughters were the servers — just teenagers with that natural Irish gab in their blood. They could carry three plates in one hand, pour coffee in the other, and still make the whole room laugh. Customers loved the way they were treated, and not to mention the Irish music playing, which kept the girls dancing from table to table, smiling all the way.
Barbara’s cooking became legendary in that village. Her Monte Cristo sandwiches — crisp on the outside, soft on the inside — were the kind of comfort food grown men still talk about decades later. Her clam chowder had customers closing their eyes after the first spoonful, and her French onion soup made people swear they were sitting in a Paris café.
Kindness First
And here’s the best part: People would ask Barbara for the recipes, and she would give them gladly — even though they were top secret.
That was Barbara’s way… kindness first.
Barbara’s homemade taco chips were the real, unspoken star. Years after we sold the café, folks would tell me: “Jack, I loved coming to your place. Not only was your homemade food delicious, but your daughters made the whole room shine.”
The tables were spaced so close together that strangers became friends by accident. People talked across tables, shared stories, swapped recommendations, and laughed together. It wasn’t just a café — it was a small Vermont living room with twenty-one seats and a heart bigger than the building.
A Quiet Moment with Michael and Tracy
One day, we had surprise guests: Michael J. Fox and his wife, Tracy Pollan.
They sat by the window, quietly enjoying Barbara’s home-cooked lunch while looking out at the quaint village scene — church steeple, general store, falling leaves. No press. No cameras. Just peace.
Afterward, I brought them upstairs to my little antique shop. Michael told me his father collected Mickey Mouse memorabilia. By pure coincidence, I had a couple of pieces in the shop. He bought them and thanked me for showing him around.
The Heartbeat of Hospitality
That moment reminded me of something I had learned long before: Kindness doesn’t require anything fancy. It only requires attention.
- A warm bowl of chowder.
- An extra slice of meat on a Monte Cristo.
- A bowl of French onion soup with the cheese just right.
- A teenager’s Irish smile.
- A bowl of taco chips refilled without being asked.
Kindness is hospitality with a heartbeat. When someone asks for something, if you can give it, just do it with intention.
Give more chips. Share your recipes.
Do it with kindness and warmth, so that is how they remember you. And that goes both ways. Kindness is contagious and makes the whole world a better place.
“K I N D N E S S R O C K S”
Jack McDonough
The Kindness Chronicles Collection
Share Your Story With Us!
What is one small act of “extra” kindness someone has shown you lately? Or perhaps you have a memory of a time when “giving more chips” made all the difference?
We would love to hear your story. Please send it to us for review for potential publication in The Kindness Chronicles Collection. Together, we can prove that kindness truly rocks.
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