I work at a pretty standard hotel. We get all sorts of guests, from business travelers to families on vacation. You see a lot in the hospitality industry, but nothing could have prepared me for what happened this week. We had this guest, Mr. Henderson, who had been staying with us for about a month. He was a quiet, unassuming man, always polite, kept to himself. He wasn’t demanding or rude, just a regular guest. Honestly, I barely registered him. He’d always just smile and nod when I asked how he was doing; pretty unremarkable all around. He wasn’t a big tipper or anything, but he wasn’t a problem. So when he came to check out, it was just another transaction, another guest moving on. He settled his bill, thanked me for my service (which, again, was pretty standard), and then he said something that completely threw me for a loop. He leaned in and said, “Check the bottom drawer on the nightstand in my room; that’s for you.” And with that, he walked away. No explanation, no further comment. Just that cryptic instruction. I was completely baffled! What could possibly be in that drawer? A complaint letter? Some forgotten toiletries? Maybe a small tip, though that seemed unlikely given his previous behavior. My curiosity was definitely piqued. The checkout rush was beginning, so I couldn’t investigate immediately, but the thought kept nagging at me.
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As soon as I had a free moment, I grabbed the master key and headed up to his room. The door clicked open, and I stepped inside. The room was tidy, as he always left it. The bed was neatly made, the towels were hung up. It looked like any other vacant hotel room. I walked over to the nightstand, my heart pounding slightly with anticipation. I knelt down and pulled open the bottom drawer. At first glance, it just looked like a jumbled mess of papers and receipts. But then, I saw it. A thick stack of hundred-dollar bills. My eyes widened in disbelief. I quickly flipped through the stack. There had to be thousands in there. It couldn’t be real.
My first thought was that I was being pranked. Maybe Mr. Henderson was some kind of eccentric millionaire with a twisted sense of humor. Or maybe this was some kind of test. Was someone watching me? Was there a hidden camera? I looked around the room, half expecting to see Ashton Kutcher jump out and yell, “Punk’d!” But the room was empty, silent. Just me and this impossible pile of cash. Okay, let’s just say this is real, so what now? Was it actually for me? Why would he leave me this much money? I barely knew him, and I didn’t do anything particularly special for him during his stay. I just checked him in and out, answered a few questions. It made absolutely no sense. So, I did what any rational person would do. I started counting the money.
I carefully separated the bills into stacks, trying to keep my hands from shaking. It was all genuine, crisp hundred-dollar bills, and to my utter shock, after about 30 minutes of pure suspense it was all done and came out to exactly $10,000. I couldn’t believe it. Ten thousand dollars! In a hotel room drawer! Left for me! I sat there for a moment, completely stunned. What kind of person just leaves that kind of money for a hotel worker? Was it some kind of drug money? Was it a bribe? I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something incredibly suspicious about this whole situation.
As I counted the money, I noticed something underneath the cash. It was a small, sealed envelope. My curiosity peaked again, I opened the envelope carefully and pulled out a handwritten note. The note was short and to the point. It read: “For helping me remember what kindness is. Please use this to make your dreams come true. – H.” The note brought tears to my eyes. Suddenly, it all made sense. Mr. Henderson wasn’t being malicious, or suspicious. He wasn’t bribing or pranking me. He was simply showing gratitude. I had no idea what he meant by ‘helping him remember what kindness is’. I thought of the simple things I always tried to do when I came to work, I always treated all the guests with respect, smiled and tried to show that even a huge cooperate chain can be friendly. I guess it must have paid off in some way.
I took the money and the note down to my manager. I explained the entire situation and asked for her advice. She was just as surprised as I was, but after some discussion, we decided to keep the money. She suggested that I use it to further my education, and that’s exactly what I plan to do. I’m going to use the money to pay for my college tuition and pursue my dream of becoming a teacher. I may never know why Mr. Henderson chose to leave me that money, but I’m eternally grateful for his generosity and I will spend the rest of my life, paying his kindness forwards and never forgetting what he did for me.
