The Blessing Coffee

The first day we worked together, my new boss stopped at the little Java Moe’s coffee shop tucked into our hospital. He ordered one for himself—and one for me. A sweet, creamy cup handed over with a smile.

I wasn’t sure whether to accept it.

Gifts can feel awkward, even suspicious—like they come with strings attached. But this didn’t. It was just him. A small act of kindness, an unspoken welcome. I didn’t realize it then, but that coffee was the beginning of something bigger.

Over time, I watched the story unfold.

There was the day one of our nurses looked completely burdened, stretched thin and quietly unraveling. He showed up with a coffee just for him. No words, just warmth. Then the time we were fighting through productivity challenges, with a brand-new CFO who felt like she couldn’t win. He showed up with a tray of four: one for our boss, one for me, one for her, and one for himself—right in front of the whole leadership team. That mattered. We felt like his team that day. Like maybe—just maybe—we could accomplish the impossible.

Then there was the time I’d been out with pneumonia. Not contagious, but knocked down hard. He took over my workload and insisted I stay home. The sun was gentle that day—I fell asleep in my hammock, face turned toward the sky. When I came back, still coughing, still tired, now sunburned… he gave me a blessing coffee.

And when we were just plain working too hard? He brought one then too.

This kind of kindness—it spreads. It’s contagious.

I began to pass it on. A coffee here and there. One for him, from time to time. He wasn’t difficult to please.

One day, I gave one to a shy nurse who had quietly asked to be moved to another unit. Our floor was… tough. I helped her find a spot in a related department, and she found her confidence there. But she’d still return a few times a month to help us out. When I gave her that coffee, she cried.

I started giving blessing coffees to other managers—celebrating little milestones or just lifting someone who looked too tired to be standing. One for our HR director, who was feeling disconnected (HR does a lot of the hard stuff behind the scenes). One for my amazing task nurse who always rearranged her day to keep mine on track. One for my son, who worked in another challenging department. One for the charge nurse I trained to take over when I moved on.

And then something beautiful happened—others began to do the same.

That nurse manager I trained? He’s passing them on now. He brought me one on our last day together. My son just gave one to his new boss—across the country, in a totally different facility.

You know, bougie coffee and fancy creamer aren’t really that special. They don’t fix broken systems. They don’t erase stress. It’s not a grand gesture.

But when you’re grumpy, rushed, or not-quite-healed, there’s something about that warm cup in your hands. It makes you feel appreciated. Remembered. Like you belong to a team that notices when you’re not okay—and chooses to respond with kindness.

I had never been a coffee person before. I’m sensitive to caffeine (and already kind of hyper). But someone took the time to share what made him feel better on a hard day. And now? I’m still a lightweight, but every time I sip that warm drink—sometimes finishing it at home, sharing it with my family—I remember.

I remember the kindness. The effort. The community.

I remember Java Moe’s and the patient barista who helped make those little blessings possible.

I remember how we got through the hard days—and how we grew together.

What about you?

What’s the “token” in your life that makes you feel just a little better?

What small thing brightens your day—or someone else’s?

What blessing could you be known for?

Start there. Start small. And spread it.

🎧 listen here: https://creators.spotify.com/pod/show/transformationship/episodes/The-Blessing-Coffee-e341909