Dear Editor:
A few days ago, my daughter and I were dining at Mimi’s Restaurant in Grapevine. Halfway through the meal, I started choking and my daughter immediately cried for assistance. Luckily, one of the managers, Charles Stewart, was nearby and successfully used the Heimlich maneuver on me, saving my life! Mr. Stewart then brought me a glass of water and checked on me several times as we finished our meal. When he found out this was our first visit, he brought us a sample of muffins and also paid for my meal.
If there is a good citizen award in Grapevine, Charles should be at the top of the list.
We will likely go back to Mimi’s as the food is delicious and reasonably prices. The ambiance is lovely, and there is a lifesaver on duty.
Go have an enjoyable meal and tell them George sent you.
Thanks again, Charles.
— George T. Regas, Whitehouse
Dear Editor:Today I became the invisible woman. No “cloak of invisibility,” no overdose of gamma-beta rays, no movie magic. Just a plain old grocery cart for the disabled at Central Market in Southlake. This is not a letter about the folks at Central Market — they couldn’t have been nicer or more helpful.
This is a letter about the majority of people shopping at the store on this beautiful Saturday afternoon. When did I become invisible? Was it the day I found out that I would have to use, on a temporary basis, this shopping aid? Was it when I no longer saw you eye-to-eye?
People actually reached over me to get to items they wanted. Stepped in front of me at counters. Ignored me as I tried to pass them (as they stood in the middle of an aisle speaking on a cellphone). Looked at me (if they looked at all) like I was an imposition placed in their path.
Folks! When did it become OK to treat the disabled this way? I know our parents taught us not to stare or point at a disabled person ... but did they also teach us to ignore them? When did we become so self-absorbed, self-important and compassionless?
We are all in a hurry. . .. We are all multitasking. ... I am as guilty as anyone. So — to anyone I might have treated as invisible — my humble apologies and my request for forgiveness. To the sweet woman who got me a sample when no one else would let me in line — thank you. And to the many others who stepped over me, in front of me, or never knew I was there — or if they did, thought me unworthy — look down, but not down your noses. Those of us who can’t look you eye-to-eye will look up to you when you treat us with kindness and courtesy.
— Penny Livingstone, Grapevine