May I Take Your Order (07/15/2025)

Last week, I wrote about my encounter with Michael, a homeless man, who gave me far more than I gave to him. He taught me the importance of “seeing” another. That day, I promised myself that I would bring that lesson forward into all of my life, seeking to see the other regardless of their outward appearance or behavior. And the place I put that into practice daily that year was at McDonalds as the order taker for the drive through on the early morning shift.

In May of 1991, I took a job at McDonalds from 5-10 a.m. to help pay some of the bills. We had three people in college and were going to have four the following year. I was one of them. I was finishing up my bachelor's degree. I also worked full time for the parish as the faith formation coordinator for grades 7-12. Hence my need for the early morning shift.

I worked the drive through order, taking the order and then taking the cash and giving the order from 6-7 a.m. Then I moved on to setting up the shake machines and making the salads for the day. It was never dull. I appreciated the deviation in duties during the shift.

The drive through order taker was a great place to practice “seeing” people. Most everyone that came through during those hours was in a hurry. It took a lot of effort to get a thank you. When I first came on board, after all the procedural tutorials, the manager added a personal note. “I’ll warn you, the folks aren’t all that friendly or patient at 6 a.m. There’s one lady in particular,” he said, “Her coldness makes you ‘burrrr.” I felt warned.

The first week, I learned a lot about the average person’s patience because I had a lot to learn and most customers hadn’t signed up for that. I think I met my lifetime quota of “I’m sorry” that first week. And I learned more about the lady the manager had told me would be my most challenging customer. She always came at the same time – 6:20 a.m. She always ordered just coffee. She always said, “No, I don’t want sugar or creamer. I told you, just a cup of hot coffee.”

I learned her voice. It was easy to spot because there was a bit of an edge to it. I learned her order. After two weeks, I quit asking her if she needed sugar or creamer; I knew better. And when she got to the window, I had her coffee, I had a smile on my face, and I always said, “Thank you. Have a great day.”  And then, in August, after several months of duty, one morning, we went through the drill, I took her order, I had it ready when she came. I took her exact change, and I said, “Thank you. Have a great day.” And she said, “Thank you, I will.”

And the manager, who was wearing a headset, too, and could hear my exchanges, came to the front, looked at me seriously and said, “I don’t believe it. How did you do that?” I admitted I hadn’t done a thing other than try not to irritate her with unnecessary questions and smile. That week he named me employee of the month.

The drive through woman taught me to see her and take her as she was. And I did. And I thanked Michael in my prayer and asked the LORD to watch out for him wherever he was.

And I took that lesson forward with me when I moved on from McDonalds later that year. I thanked the LORD for the valuable experience, seeing others in a new way at a new location under new circumstances. I must tell you, honestly, I learned more about people working the drive through early morning shift at McDonalds than I did in my expensive Psychology class.

As we journey in faith, believing with all our being in our loving and all-present LORD, may we be filled with hope for what can be and with love for the moment and for those whom we encounter. May we always seek to see those before us as our loving Savior would see them.

Until tomorrow, let us all love well.