Mints on the Pillow

When I was a kid, if we had guests coming to stay, my mother often put mints on their pillow.

She would drive to the grocery store, buy a box of Andes mints, and carefully lay a few at the head of the bed.

Maybe her time could have been better spent. There was her art studio that she never had enough hours in. There was a mess in the basement, weeds in the yard.

But my mother liked how some hotels once put mints on the pillow. It was unnecessary, unexpected. Just a small, soft touch of sweetness for the traveler.

So my mother did it, too. And she did it knowing that she would never see people’s reaction to it. Guests would discover the mints while turning on the lamp, unpacking their bags, getting into bed.

Maybe my mother’s hours could have been better spent. But creating encounters with sweetness for fellow travelers strikes me as a wonderful way to spend our time.

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