French Food, Magnificent Mood.

Growing up with a mother from a French background, I know what a good crepe is. Crispy on the outside, fluffy on the inside, and slightly sweet. Rachel's Crepes gets it. My friends, PeterRobbieAnnieAnnaAdrienne and I, decided that this hole in the wall restaurant would be our lunchtime destination. We picked correctly. They served a mean crepe. At our table were six different yummy wrapped crepes, one for each of us. Mine was called the Barnstormer which tasted much better than the name would suggest. But I am not here to discuss the wonder of Rachel's. For we had something magnificent in store us.

Behind me, underneath a small picture of a home in Italy, sat two middle aged women giving their order to a waiter with long black hair. They looked like they were anticipating a calm quiet lunch. Just the two of them. Then we showed up. After walking through Market and the little shops lining Lancaster's streets, we were in a laughing, loud mood. I thought to myself, "I bet they are annoyed at how loud we are" but in true teenage form did nothing. Then something magical happened.

As the waiter approached our table, he had a strange sort of smile on his face. Adrienne asked him, "Can we have our tickets?" (I can only assume this meant "our bill.") He said, "Those ladies who just left paid for everything. They just said Pay it Forward." And with another grin he whisked away to tend to another less fortunate customer. We sat in utter astonishment. After a second, we caught our breath and then yipped and hurrahed for about five minutes. It was wonderful.

That sort of thing doesn't happen anymore.