No, but I could make you some...

Such was the reply of the seriously harried, semi-haggard, nurse to my question. 

Let me set this up for you:

My mother is having her annual stay in the ICU (I guess if you can't joke about these things, you will cry). 

The first day I visited there was a hospitality cart floating around; complete with cookies and coffee. Some hapless romantic once stammered out that love is what the world goes 'round; but apparently, this man was not a coffee drinker...

So this morning, after a long night (I never sleep as well away from home) on my sister's couch (not the best seat in the house), we got to the hospital and as I passed through the halls somewhat zombified, I recalled the coffee pot. So after settling in for a bit, I got up, approached the desk, and sheepishly asked, "is there a coffee pot around here?" to which she replied, "No, but I could make you some..." Then got up from her terminal, went back to the "nourishment room" and brewed up a few fresh cups, one for me and one for my other caffeine dependent sibling. 

I know this doesn't seem like a big deal, but let me put things into context. 

Firstly, we are in Detroit. People don't really go out of there way for strangers around here. Second of all, this was not in her job description. She had plenty of other things to do, and initially, looked a bit annoyed that I had asked... a sort of "do I look like a waitress to you?" look. But her warmth, and the warm cup of joe, and the 2% milk she found for cream, and the Equal packets, all made it just that much easier to cope with the fact that my mother was laying there right in front of me, full of tubes and chemicals, hardly aware of where she was, and facing an exasperatingly uncertain future. Sometimes, very small things like this make a huge difference. As one friend noted, "so shines a good deed in a weary world..." Indeed. 

I may never, ever, see that nurse again... 

But if I do --- she's getting a hug.