Authentic voices #3

I was working with restaurant owner/operators from all over the world as they rehearsed their stories about their "passion" for their work, which they would tell on stage in front of 12,000 of their peers. There were big stories, like the husband and wife team who had started some kind of charity for kids in -- it could have been Russia, but I'm kind of foggy on that. And there was a guy who did something with a clown somewhere in Latin America. And something from Japan, the details of which escape me. But most of all, there was this Norwegian, whose story I can still punch up in my brain, must be seven years now after the fact. It goes like this:

It was late afternoon on a Saturday. There was no one in the store except a small family quietly finishing their meal. I walked over and asked them if they would care for dessert. A little boy, about four years old, said he would like to have an ice cream cone. I said, "How would you like to make it yourself?" He said he would like that. So I took him behind the counter and found something for him to stand on. I showed him how the machine worked and handed him a cone. He held down the lever and filled the cone up. I watched him walk back to his mom and dad with a look of amazement on his face. To eat something that tasted so good, and that he had made with his own hands, was a special thing. He ate every last bit, and his family got up to leave. His mom and dad had already gone out the door when he stopped, turned around, pointed to me and softly said, "I will never forget you."