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The Gift That Found Its Way Home
This next story might be even more incredible.
On March 18—the day before Eid—a new customer named Joe called to place an order. He only wanted one box of baklava, and as I always do, I asked if it was for him or for a gift.
Not because I’m nosy—but because presentation matters to me. A gift of baklava isn’t complete without a beautiful ribbon and the perfect tag. That’s the finishing touch. The part that transforms something delicious into something meaningful.
So I always ask.
Joe told me the box was for a new employee from Iran. It was for Eid—the celebration marking the end of Ramadan. He wanted her to feel welcome. She was new, and he wanted her to know she mattered.
I was immediately so excited.
I had recently made special Eid gift tags and had been waiting for the perfect opportunity to use one. I said, “Oh, I know exactly what Eid is—don’t worry, Joe, I’ve got you!”
The next day, I was looking forward to meeting him, but instead, he sent another employee to pick up the order. She was just as kind. We chatted briefly, completed the exchange, and off she went.
And that could have been the end of the story.
But it wasn’t.
Fast forward to April 4 at Nordstrom.
Patricee and I were handing out samples, laughing, and chatting with a wonderful visitor—my new friend Cheryl (also known as “She Shed Cheryl”… and if you know, you know).
The energy was light and joyful, just one of those days where everything feels easy.
Then, through the crowd, I noticed a young woman walking towards us.
There was something about her—such a kind, gentle presence—that immediately drew me in. I called out, “Hi! Would you like a sample?”
But before I could even have Patricee hand it to her, I found myself saying, “You look so familiar to me… have you had my baklava before? I feel like I know you.”
She paused, smiled, and said, “I’ve never bought it—but I was gifted a box by my work. They gave it to me for Eid.”
I was stunned.
I said, “Is your boss’s name Joe… in Park City?”
Her eyes lit up. “Yes!”
We both laughed and immediately hugged. Her name is Anita.
She shared that she had recently moved to Utah from San Diego—completely on her own. But she told me how welcomed she felt, how much she loved her job, and how appreciated that gift had made her feel.
Mission accomplished, Joe!
I was so deeply touched—not just by his intention, but by the fact that I had somehow been part of that moment for her.
We took photos together, and I told her, “You have friends in the valley now, too.”
And without missing a beat, Patricee chimed in, “Yes! Amen—we’re your friends now. You’re not alone.”
I still can’t quite believe it.
Less than a month later, I met the exact person that box of baklava had been meant for.
A few days later, on Monday morning, Joe texted me. He said Anita had been telling everyone at work about running into me. He thanked me for “being the best.”
My heart just filled right up.
Because the truth is—I love making people feel special. I really do.
What struck me most about this moment is how something so small—a single box of baklava—can carry so much meaning.
It wasn’t just a dessert. It was a welcome. It was kindness. It was someone saying, “You belong here.”
And somehow, that simple act created a circle—one that came all the way back around so I could witness its impact firsthand.
Connection doesn’t always happen in big, dramatic ways. Sometimes it begins with a thoughtful gesture, a simple gift, or the decision to see someone and make them feel valued.
And when we choose to do that, those moments don’t just end—they ripple outward, touching more lives than we ever realize.
This was one of those ripples.
And I’m so grateful I got to stand right in the middle of it. |
