The Hungry Little Girl Is Scolded by the Restaurant Owner for Having No Money
The hot plate of food was placed in front of the little girl just as she was trying to stand up and leave the diner.
The smell of fried chicken, French fries, and garlic butter sauce rose in warm steam. The little girl froze, her red eyes staring at the plate as if it were the warmest thing she had seen in that entire cold, rainy day.
The whole diner went silent.
Rain tapped against the glass windows. Yellow lights shone down on the old wooden tables. Customers stopped eating with their forks in midair.
A heavy middle-aged man in a tight white shirt turned around sharply.
He was the restaurant owner.
He looked at the plate of food, then at the thin, trembling little girl standing beside the table.
“Who allowed someone to bring food to her?”
His voice rang through the diner, cold and sharp enough to make the little girl flinch. She immediately stepped back, her small hands gripping the hem of her old sweater, as if standing near the plate for one more second was a mistake.
No one answered.
The owner stepped closer, his leather shoes hitting the floor hard. He pointed straight at the little girl’s face.
“I already told you. If you don’t have money, get out of my restaurant. This is not a place for beggars.”
The little girl lowered her head.
“I… I’m sorry…”
Her voice was so small it was almost swallowed by the sound of the rain.
She did not dare look at the plate again. But her stomach made a quiet sound. In that silence, even that tiny sound made several people in the diner lower their eyes.
Then a calm voice came from behind.
“I allowed it.”
The owner turned around.
The person who had spoken was an elderly woman in a gray coat, her silver hair neatly tied behind her head. She did not look wealthy in a flashy way. Her coat was damp from the rain, and her black shoes had a little mud on them, but her eyes were clear and steady.
She stood beside the little girl’s table, one hand holding a wooden cane.
The owner frowned.
“And who are you to allow anything in my restaurant?”
The elderly woman looked at him for a long moment.
Then she said slowly:
“Are you sure this restaurant belongs to you?”
The air inside the diner seemed to freeze.
The owner stopped. A few employees behind the counter looked at each other, their faces changing. The young waitress holding a cleaning cloth stood still, her lips parting as if she wanted to say something but did not dare.
The owner gave a cold laugh.
“Don’t interfere with my business. I don’t run a charity here.”
The elderly woman looked at the old sign hanging on the wall, where faded painted letters still read:
A warm meal can save a cold day.
She let out a soft sigh.
“The person who built this place never thought that way.”
The owner’s face changed.
Before he could say anything else, the little girl suddenly lost her balance. She grabbed the edge of the table, trying to stay on her feet. Her face was pale from hunger, her lips pressed together as if she was trying not to cry in front of everyone.
The elderly woman immediately held her shoulder.
“Sit down, child.”
The little girl looked up at her.
“I… I don’t have money.”
The elderly woman spoke gently.
“This meal does not need money.”
The owner slammed his hand on the table.
“No!”
The sound made the glass on the table shake. The little girl shrank back again.
But this time, the elderly woman did not step away.
She turned and looked directly at the owner.
“Mr. Lam, I have heard enough.”
The moment that name was spoken, the owner’s face stiffened.
“You know me?”
The elderly woman took an old brass key from her coat pocket. On the keychain was the name of the diner:
Rose Diner.
“I do not only know you,” she said. “I am the person who held the very first key to this place.”
The whole diner broke into whispers.
Mr. Lam stood frozen.
The little girl was still curled up on the seat, her eyes wide, not understanding what was happening. All she knew was that the plate of food in front of her was still warm.
May you like
But she did not dare touch it.
Everything had started less than an hour earlier.
