A Story About Phil
I was 12 years old and my parents Phil and Hadele were hosting one of their many parties; our big but never big enough formal dining room table crowded knee-to-knee with adults. I was sitting next to my dad, and sitting next to me was a foreign exchange student who had been brought to the party by one of my parents’ friends. She was maybe 21, the only other “kid” at the table besides me, and barely spoke a word of English. In fact, she was so quiet, looking down at her plate the whole time, it seemed like she was trying to disappear altogether. Midway through the meal, as she was reaching for a bread roll, she accidentaly knocked over her glass of red wine onto the white tablecloth, the stain quickly spreading across the fabric. Everyone froze, except my father. Barely pausing between bites, my dad casually backhanded his own wine glass onto the table. Laughter filled the room and I could tell that the exchange student was relieved.
I’ve named this restaurant after my father to honor the example he set for his family. My father cares about people, and cares about his family. He parented by example, and set an example of kindness, and above all integrity, that was incredibly powerful. My mother taught us to be giving and thoughtful, but also to be sure we took care of ourselves so that we would be able to take care of others. And she LOVES desserts so the bake shop is named after her. 🙂
I never forgot that moment . . .
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