They sat side-by-side at the bar: one who had stayed behind to keep the home fires burning and one who served Uncle Sam in far-away places. As a small gesture of appreciation, the first one ordered the second one a beer.
For a while they drank in silence. Then the second voiced his opinion of “this hick town,” in no uncertain terms. “For sure, I won’t hang around here,” he said and stalked out.
No thanks for the beer, not even a pleasant word. It seemed he couldn’t wait to be off to greater places.
But 40 years or so later he is still here, a perpetual cigar in his mouth and a perpetual dour look on his face.
His father had a thriving department store, the best for miles around. Dour face became a perpetual fixture in it, and it is still in business though it does not thrive as it did when the old man ran it.
The man who got no thanks for the beer quit going there to shop. He also told his lovely, fashion-conscious wife to take her business elsewhere.
A simple thank you could have been worth hundreds of dollars in just one instance and perhaps cemented a friendship.
How many times have you forgotten to say, “Thank you”?