An angel of comfort disguised as a waitress

I had an incredible experience recently at the Cup of Soul Café, a sandwich and soup restaurant in Elmsdale.

On my second day of radiation treatments for cancer, I drove by myself into the city, meeting my brother-inlaw, Richard, at the Dartmouth Cineplex parking lot. He drove me to the Dickson Centre at the QEII hospital site, dropped me off, and came back an hour later to give me a lift back to my vehicle.

He wasn't comfortable coming to a restaurant with me, so I left Halifax and decided to stop in Elmsdale.

At the Cup of Soul, the waitress said there was one table left, outside, and that she'd be over to see me. It was a table for six, and I sat in the middle. I returned to my car and collected my Maeve Binchey book while I waited.

The waitress asked what I was up to, and I said I was just driving home from a radiation treatment. Well, that struck a chord with her. She told me of the anxiety-inducing radiation treatments her father had had, and that a girlfriend had gone through treatments, too.

She asked what I was reading; she said she had all Maeve Binchey's books, and that she would bring me any I didn't have. So, I went through the book list at the front of my volume, and said I didn't have Echoes. She promised to bring it. We exchanged phone numbers and names; hers was Kate.

Then, when I tried to pay for my order, she said she was covering it, and she wasn't going to tolerate any argument from me.

So I decided to bring her her two Hershey's Special Dark chocolate bars and left them at the restaurant for her on her day off.

I went there again the following week, sat outside, and had a Monte Cristo sandwich. Kate caught up with me, and refused to accept my payment for the meal.

On my last week of treatments, I took Sybil with me; she accompanied me to the café. We placed our order at a different door so we could eat outside; Kate showed up with three Maeve Binchey books. Even though we both insisted on paying, she covered the bill. She couldn't find those chocolate bars I had left her in any store, so quizzed me on where I had purchased them.

On the last day of treatment, Murray's nephew, a dentist in Amherst, was with me, and he wasn't willing to eat in a restaurant unless they were checking that you were vaccinated.

He agreed to go with me. We were seated at the last free table inside; I told Tim that we had to make it clear to Kate that we were paying. He said that he had this covered, but Kate cornered him as he returned from the washroom, saying the bill was on her.

Also, Kate brought me a local beer, in celebration of my last treatment, and to Tim, she brought a coffee. She presented with me a bag of gifts, so I promptly gave her the box of Hershey's Special Dark chocolate bars I had found for her. She didn't know that I would be back in the restaurant, but the card was dated Oct. 8, and she had done her own watercolour painting of flowers on the front. In the bag were “comfort” gifts to help me out as I got over the treatments.

Now, tell me: Do angels exist?

Cancer patient Linda Giddens displays a book by her favourite author. It was given to her by Kate, a waitress who showed her many kindnesses after learning her story.