Work Text:
“I don’t care how much it costs me,” you heard Sam yell into the phone. “Just get me a truck, NOW!”
Your eyes bugged in surprise at the tone of Sam’s voice but you continued to work, wrapping another sandwich and putting it on the ever-growing pile. You’d never heard Sam shout, even when his employees broke things, messed up orders, or anything else they shouldn’t do. This was a first, hearing Sam so upset.
Seconds later Sam stormed into the kitchen, looking around at the room.
“This isn’t enough,” he said, frustration clear in his voice. His shoulders slumped at the same time that he turned to run his hands under the water in the sink, cleaning them quickly and efficiently. “I need to do more.” He seemed to be talking to himself, but you couldn’t help but hear his words.
You sighed, but kept working. You were here to support Sam, so you would do that with your actions. What could you even say to make him feel better, anyway?
Sam was one of the most selfless people you knew, and when the tsunami hit the coast last week, he’d immediately sprung into action. His restaurant, which he’d opened nearly ten years ago when he’d only had a few dollars in his pocket, was his greatest passion, and he wanted to use it help the people in need.
Which is why you were packing as many meals as you could for Sam to send down to the coast for relief. The grocery stores had all been cleared out in the area and there were thousands of people going without food. The minute that Sam found that out, he closed his restaurant and started making simple meals to send. You were the only employee who decided to give your time (unpaid) to help Sam with his project.
You admired Sam, knowing that it took a special person to put his livelihood on the line like this; he wasn’t getting any money in return for what he was spending on this project, only losing money. No money was covered for the food, no money for his time.
Finally, after a few minutes of quiet as you worked and thought over Sam’s frustration, you spoke.
“Sam, what you’re doing here is incredible,” you said. He didn’t answer, but you could tell by the way his hands slowed that he was listening. “None of this is your responsibility, but you’re doing so much. Out of all of the people in the state – hell, the country – you’re the one who is going through all of this to help. It’s amazing.”
Sam sighed, putting another sandwich on the pile. “But there are still people out there starving, lost, helpless. I wish I could do more.”
You nodded, practically able to feel the empathy seeping from Sam’s pores. You didn’t think you could say anything else to help, but you knew you would work as many hours as Sam wanted you to, if only to ensure that he felt accomplished and successful.
For as much as Sam loved the world, you loved Sam. He just didn’t know it yet.