Morning Coffee ––– I Wrote About Cherry Trees for April Fools. The Latest Chapter Is No Joke.

November 5, 2026November 2, 2026BenjaminLeave a comment

Like that battery bunny, this story just keeps going… and going… and going.

By Benjamin Groff | benandsteve.com GroffMedia2026©
November 5, 2026

Back on April 1, I wrote a satirical piece about Washington’s cherry trees being cut down. It was supposed to be an April Fools joke.

pink petaled flower near white ceramic plate — _{^{Photo by Brigitte Tohm on Pexels.com}}

Apparently, I should have picked a subject Washington would have more difficulty turning into a controversy. Something less combustible. Like gasoline.

Readers who followed the story will remember that I later received an explanation connecting tree removal to repairs around the Tidal Basin. My May 24 follow-up acknowledged that the seawall work was real. Another update followed in July as concerns about trees at East Potomac Park developed. Those earlier pieces are the background to this report, but they should not be mistaken for proof that every subsequent tree removal involved the same project.

Now hundreds of trees have been cut down at East Potomac Golf Links, and a federal judge is demanding answers about the government’s conduct.

Before going further, two distinctions matter.

First, approximately 430 trees were removed in the October operation. The available reporting does not establish that they were all cherry trees. Earlier claims that dozens of cherry trees had been removed at the golf course also exceeded what could be verified.

Second, the Tidal Basin seawall repairs and the East Potomac golf course dispute are separate projects. One cannot serve as a blanket explanation for the other.

The seawall explanation was real

In March 2024, the National Park Service announced a $113 million seawall rehabilitation project at the Tidal Basin and West Potomac Park. Its plans included removing 158 cherry trees, along with other trees, to make room for construction. Replacement planting was part of the project from the beginning.

That history deserves a clear place in this update. The seawall project was announced before Trump’s second administration. Its existence was not an invented excuse, even if it did not answer questions about trees being removed elsewhere.

Interior announced the restored seawalls’ reopening on April 21, 2026, reporting that the project included planting 546 trees, among them 353 cherry trees.

What happened at East Potomac

According to ABC News, the government notified the plaintiffs at 4:55 p.m. on Friday, October 9, that tree cutting would take place over the holiday weekend. Crews began the next day. A Justice Department attorney subsequently told the court that 430 trees had been removed.

The administration maintained that the work implemented recommendations from a 2019 cultural landscape report and was separate from President Trump’s proposed golf course overhaul. CNN reported that officials could not explain to Judge Ana Reyes why so many trees needed to come down so suddenly.

Reyes’s October 26 opinion described the operation as removing hundreds of healthy, nonhazardous trees with less than eighteen hours’ notice. At the preliminary-injunction stage, she rejected the government’s effort to characterize what happened as routine maintenance and found the cutting connected to the broader redevelopment.

There is a considerable distance between removing a dangerous limb and removing a landscape. The court is now examining how the government crossed it.

Why the judge was furious

Reyes had repeatedly sought meaningful advance notice before irreversible work occurred. Government lawyers had offered assurances about providing it.

But accuracy requires acknowledging that she had not yet put the earlier notice requirement into a formal order. At the October 12 hearing, she expressly identified that omission as the reason she had not initiated contempt proceedings over the cutting.

The supported account is therefore serious enough without embellishment: hundreds of trees were removed after repeated judicial warnings, with notice arriving late on a Friday before crews began Saturday.

By the time the court could intervene, the trees were already down.

The restrictions—and today’s development

On October 26, Reyes issued a preliminary injunction requiring court authorization for further tree removal or damage, with a narrow exception for imminent public-safety threats. She also required ten days’ written notice before other irreversible changes to the course. These protections apply while the lawsuit proceeds; they are not a final judgment resolving every disputed issue.

The dispute escalated again on October 30. Reuters reported that Reyes ordered an investigation into whether Justice Department attorneys violated ethics rules, appointed a special master, and directed the preservation of relevant documents. Her concerns included potentially misleading statements and omissions about the administration’s renovation plans. The investigation is not itself a finding that misconduct occurred.

Where that leaves this story

My April piece was satire. The seawall repairs were real. The October golf course cutting was a separate event, and the government’s explanations for it are now under judicial scrutiny.

I cannot establish that the person who contacted me was a White House insider. Nor does this latest dispute prove that every suspicion I had earlier was correct. Readers deserve those distinctions alongside the criticism.

What troubles me is the permanence of the action compared with the time needed to examine it. Lawyers can revise a filing. Officials can offer another explanation. A judge can demand testimony.

A mature tree does not get a correction notice and stand back up.

An April Fools joke ought to end with somebody laughing. This chapter has ended, so far, with hundreds of stumps and a federal judge demanding the truth.

☕ Morning Coffee: The Scariest Commercial Break of the Year

October 30, 2026October 27, 2026BenjaminLeave a comment

Trick or Treat…It is soon time to vote…and end the haunting political advertising.

By Benjamin Groff II GroffMedia© | benandsteve.com | ©2026
October 30, 2026

Good morning, coffee drinkers.

people sitting inside the coffee shop — _{^{Photo by Mizzu Cho on Pexels.com}}

Tomorrow is Halloween, and I imagine some of you are ready for the scary movies to disappear from the television schedule. We have had enough haunted houses, rattling chains, and people investigating strange noises in basements they had no business entering.

Personally, I would have put the house up for sale during the opening credits.

But even after the Halloween movies retreat into storage, we will still have those political advertisements.

Apparently, some horrors have a larger advertising budget.

We are four days away from the United States midterm elections on Tuesday, November 3. Four more days of ominous music, unflattering photographs, and a voice warning us that somebody running for office intends to destroy everything we hold dear.

By now, I am surprised the candidates have not been accused of stealing Halloween candy directly from the mouths of children.

Give it another commercial break.

Before we get to Tuesday, though, there is another observance I try to acknowledge every year. Halloween, October 31, is All Hallows’ Eve—the evening before All Saints’ Day on November 1.

a man voting beside a ballot box — _{^{Photo by Sora Shimazaki on Pexels.com}}

Beyond the costumes and candy, there is room in this season for remembrance. For thinking about those who came before us, the lives they lived, and what they left in our care.

I think about that responsibility when I consider what we are leaving for the people coming after us.

What will they learn from watching us? How to disagree? How to recognize the truth? How to accept an outcome we did not want?

Or simply how to shout louder?

One of my frustrations with political advertising is how much responsibility falls on the person sitting at home trying to sort through it. The Federal Trade Commission, which oversees truth in much commercial advertising, does not have jurisdiction over political advertisements. The FCC does not verify the accuracy of political claims before they air, either.

That does not make every accusation legally consequence-free. But it certainly leaves voters with a considerable amount of homework.

And most of us were only trying to watch a movie.

You hear an accusation. Then a denial. Then another advertisement explaining why the denial cannot be trusted. Somewhere in the middle, an actual voting record or statement may be buried beneath enough dramatic music to launch a horror franchise.

Sometimes the words are real, but the context has disappeared. Sometimes a vote against a bill becomes an accusation that someone opposed every worthwhile thing tucked inside it.

And sometimes a candidate says something troubling in plain language, only for supporters to spend the next week explaining why we should not believe our own ears.

Meanwhile, an unsupported accusation about the opponent travels around the neighborhood before the correction has its shoes on.

That is what wears people down. Eventually, some folks stop asking what is true and settle for whatever sounds right coming from their side.

I understand being tired. I am tired, too. But exhaustion is a poor reason to hand somebody else the responsibility for deciding what we believe.

My worry is that Tuesday will bring relief from the advertisements without bringing relief from the accusations.

I expect that if Democrats win close races, we will hear familiar claims from some Republicans that the election was stolen. That is my expectation, not a result we can know in advance. But I have grown weary of the suggestion that an election is trustworthy only when it produces the preferred winner.

A close race may warrant a recount under the applicable rules. An allegation of wrongdoing deserves examination when there is evidence behind it.

Disappointment alone proves nothing.

And counting ballots carefully takes time. We may go to bed Tuesday without knowing the outcome of every race. I would rather wait for an accurate count than demand a hurried answer simply because the television panel has run out of things to say.

So, as we move from Halloween into All Saints’ Day and then toward Election Day, perhaps we could give a little thought to what deserves our fear—and what deserves our attention.

Remember those who helped shape your life. Enjoy the children in their costumes. Save a little candy for yourself.

Then take your vote seriously enough to look beyond the commercial.

I am ready for the scary movies to end and the political advertisements to follow them out the door.

After that, I would appreciate one quiet morning when the most alarming thing on television is the price of a new refrigerator.

Pour yourself another cup, folks.

And keep the remote handy.

Signature of Benjamin Groff, with attribution to GroffMedia and a website link. — _{^{Benjamin Groff}}

Morning Coffee ––– Do You Have Prince Albert In A Can?

October 22, 2026October 20, 2026BenjaminLeave a comment

How did Albert become a Prince?

By Benjamin Groff II GroffMedia© | benandsteve.com | ©2026
October 22, 2026

a person holding a newspaper — ^{_{Photo by Civan D. on Pexels.com}}

Good morning Coffee Drinkers. And if you are grandchildren, or children of pipe smoking folks, or maybe fathers and grandfathers. I had a flashback the other day. And it is a great way to start the day. It takes me back to the 1960s and early 1970s.

I was having a difficult time getting past writer’s block until The Other, the 1972 movie, came on. I’ve seen it numerous times, though I’m not exactly sure why. Usually, I’m doing something else while it plays in the background. Yet here it was again—and today, a familiar sound caught my attention.

The rattle of a Prince Albert tobacco can.

That sound took me straight back to childhood. My grandfather would hand me his empty cans, and I would fill them with all the necessities a child could find. Treasures, mostly. Then I’d run across the yard carrying them, announcing every step.

You could not sneak up on a sibling, a friend hiding from you, or the family pet. A Prince Albert can gave you away every time.

It wasn’t much help when you were hiding from your parents after some disastrous deed, either. Mom or Dad could follow that rattle as though they had sonar. Especially if you were trying to sit perfectly still but were shaking, scared to death.

An antique Folger's Coffee tin can beside a vintage Prince Albert cigarette tobacco tin, both featuring classic red designs.

Those cans had a scent all their own. The tobacco aroma faded over time, leaving the smell of an old tin, but you never quite stopped lifting the flap and poking your nose inside for another whiff. And somewhere along the way, you wondered just what Albert had done to become a prince.

An empty can could keep you occupied for hours. When you were little, it helped keep you out of trouble. As you got older, Prince Albert offered another opportunity.

Prank phone calls.

I couldn’t tell you how many times we called the local grocer and asked,

“Do you have Prince Albert in a can?”

“Yes, we do.”

“Well, you’d better let him out! He’s going to suffocate!”

Then we’d hang up, convinced we had pulled off something brilliant.

There was no caller ID to announce which kid was responsible. Looking back, the grocer probably heard that same joke ten times a day and patiently humored every one of us. We thought we were fooling him. I suspect he knew more than we gave him credit for.

That was about the extent of the mischief in my little world. No threats. No settling scores. Just a familiar joke, a patient grocer, and children who could find an afternoon’s entertainment in an empty tobacco can.

I hope others were lucky enough to know something like it.

And today, all these years later, that little can found one more use: it rattled a memory loose and gave me something to write about.

red royal post box emblem close up — _{^{Photo by Daniel Wells on Pexels.com}}

For the record Prince Albert was born a prince as the second son of Ernest I, Duke of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha (in Germany), and later received his formal British title of Prince Consort when Queen Victoria formally designated him as such in 1857.Prince Albert tobacco ended up on a can because R.J. Reynolds named the brand after Edward VII, who was known as Prince Albert before he became King of the United Kingdom.

Signature of 'Benjamin Groff' along with copyright and attribution information. — _{Benjamin Groff}

Morning Coffee: My Words Have Gone Traveling

October 9, 2026October 7, 2026Benjamin4 Comments

So put me on a highway
And show me a sign
And take it to the limit one more time

October 9, 2026

Good morning, folks.

I was looking at the map showing where visits to benandsteve.com have come from, and something struck me: my words have been getting out more than I have.

person with coffee on retro newspaper on table — _{^{Photo by Tahir Osman on Pexels.com}}

Here I am in Arizona, putting together a few thoughts over coffee, while something I’ve written turns up halfway around the world.

Apparently, my stories don’t need a passport. They don’t even have to take their shoes off at the airport.

When I begin a piece, I usually have something fairly close to home in mind. A memory from Oklahoma. Something Steve said. An ordinary object that carries an extraordinary amount of history. Or a passing thought that refuses to leave until I give it a paragraph of its own.

I don’t generally sit down thinking, “I wonder how this will go over in Tanzania.”

Perhaps I should start.

In the recent figures I reviewed, approximately 45% of the recorded views came from China, while nearly 42% came from the United States. Canada accounted for about 5%, followed by the United Kingdom at roughly 2.5%.

The remaining views came from India, Pakistan, the Philippines, Tanzania, Tunisia, and the Netherlands. Together, those countries represented about 6% of the views in this snapshot.

That is quite a bit of traveling for thoughts that began here at home.

_{^{Visits to benandsteve.com from around the world}}

The shaded countries on the map made that reach visible in a way a column of figures never quite could. I found myself looking at places I hadn’t expected to appear and wondering how something I wrote had found its way there.

Of course, a map cannot tell me the whole story. It doesn’t tell me who stopped by, what brought them, or whether they stayed long enough to finish their coffee. But it does show recorded activity from parts of the world I never imagined would have any connection to my little corner of the internet.

And that gives me something to think about.

I grew up in a small Oklahoma town where you usually knew who was listening. Sometimes you knew their parents, their grandparents, and precisely who would hear about what you said before you made it home.

Writing online is a different experience. You put a story out there, and its next stop may be somewhere you’ve never been.

A recollection from my childhood might turn up in Canada. A bit of dry humor might make its way to the United Kingdom. Something about family, kindness, loss, or simply getting through the day might reach a place whose name I’ve known all my life without ever expecting my writing to arrive there.

I like that possibility.

So much of what I write begins with ordinary life. The details belong to me, but the feelings may be familiar to someone much farther away: missing a parent, remembering an old home, laughing at an aggravation, or finding comfort in a daily routine.

I cannot say what any particular visitor takes away. I can only hope that somewhere in these pages, they find something worth pausing over.

This map has reminded me that the circle around benandsteve.com may be wider than I realized. My stories are beginning to show up in regions I never expected them to reach, and I’m curious to see where they go next.

Wherever you happen to be reading this, thank you for stopping by.

Pull up a chair. There’s always room for another cup.

And if my words make it to your part of the world before I do, please tell them to behave themselves. I have a reputation to consider.

Morning Coffee: Good Morning, Folks

September 28, 2026September 24, 2026BenjaminLeave a comment

“Loving Folks Since 1982”

September 28, 2026

Good morning, folks. It’s Monday.

crop faceless women sitting at table with cups of coffee — _{^{Photo by Liza Summer on Pexels.com}}

I know. Some of you were getting along just fine until I reminded you.

Before we face the week, let’s settle an important matter: I like calling you folks. It’s a warm word. It leaves room for the people I know well, the people I’ve just met, and the person standing behind me at the coffee shop who can see that I still haven’t decided what I want.

“Friend” is different. Friendship takes time. We might get there, but if we’ve never met, please don’t greet me with “Hello, my friend” while reaching for my wallet or trying to sell me a new roof. I haven’t even had my coffee yet.

“Folks,” though? That works. It sounds like someone pulling out an extra chair at the table. No promises required. You can sit down, have a cup, and tell me how your weekend went. If Monday has already tested your patience, you can tell me that, too.

So good morning, folks. Pour the coffee. Find your shoes. Check that you have your keys before you close the door. We’ll get this Monday started together.

And if we become friends along the way, I’ll be glad to call you one.

Morning Coffee ––– Some mornings arrive quietly.

September 8, 2026September 5, 2026BenjaminLeave a comment

Not every day needs to be extraordinary to be meaningful. Sometimes the moments we barely notice—a warm cup of coffee, a familiar voice, or a quiet morning at home—become the memories we treasure most.

September 8, 2029

~~~ ### ~~~

No thunder. No grand announcement. No particular reason to believe the day will be remarkable.

cozy nighttime coffee shop street scene — _{^{Photo by Jinshu Pulpatta on Pexels.com}}

The coffee brews.

The sun comes up.

The house begins to stir.

And for a few minutes, life is simply allowed to be what it is.

I think we sometimes overlook those mornings because we are waiting for something bigger to happen.

We wait for the phone call.

The good news.

The bad news.

The answer we have been hoping for.

The problem we have been trying to solve.

But most of life doesn’t arrive with a trumpet.

Most of it slips quietly through the kitchen while we are standing there holding a coffee cup.

It is found in ordinary conversations.

A wave from a neighbor.

A dog waiting patiently by the door.

Someone remembering to ask how we are doing.

A familiar song playing somewhere in the background.

Those things don’t seem important at the time.

But years later, they often become the things we remember most.

Maybe that is because ordinary days give us room to notice.

When nothing dramatic is demanding our attention, we can see the smaller pieces of life that are usually hidden beneath the noise.

And there is something comforting in realizing that a day does not have to be extraordinary to be good.

Sometimes a good day is simply one where everybody made it home.

Where supper was eaten.

Where someone laughed.

Where the coffee was hot.

Where, for a little while, everything was all right.

So don’t be too quick to dismiss an ordinary morning.

There may be something happening today that you will someday wish you could experience one more time.

Sit with it awhile.

Drink the coffee before it gets cold.

Look around.

Listen.

And give today a little room to become a memory.

Have a great day from benandsteve.com — and may you find something worth remembering in the ordinary moments ahead.

Morning Coffee — The Things We Carry Forward

September 4, 2026September 1, 2026BenjaminLeave a comment

The ordinary moments of life often leave the deepest impressions. A familiar phrase, an old memory, or a simple act of kindness can become something we carry with us for years—and eventually pass along to someone else.

September 4, 2026

There is something comforting about the first cup of coffee in the morning.

Before the phone starts ringing, before the television begins telling us what happened while we slept, and before the responsibilities of the day start lining up at the door, there are those few quiet minutes when the world seems willing to wait.

I think we need those moments.

man in white crew neck t shirt holding a phone — _{^{Photo by Mikhail Nilov on Pexels.com}}

This morning, as I sat with my coffee, I found myself thinking about how much of our lives we carry forward without even realizing it.

~~~

A phrase our father used to say.

A recipe our mother never bothered writing down because she simply knew how much of everything belonged in the bowl.

The way a grandparent waved from the porch.

The sound of an old screen door closing behind us.

The advice of a friend that didn’t seem particularly important when it was given, but somehow became wisdom twenty years later.

~~~

We spend so much of our lives believing we are moving forward and leaving yesterday behind.

But I don’t think that’s really how life works.

We carry yesterday with us.

Not all of it, thankfully. Time has a merciful way of softening some things and allowing others to fade. But the pieces that shaped us remain tucked away in places we don’t always recognize.

They appear when we catch ourselves saying something exactly the way one of our parents said it.

They show themselves when we perform some small kindness because once, long ago, someone did the same thing for us.

Sometimes they appear in the strangest places—a song on the radio, the smell of rain, an old photograph, or the sound of coffee being poured into a familiar cup.

And suddenly, someone or someplace we haven’t thought about in years is sitting right there beside us again.

Maybe that is one of life’s quieter gifts.

The people we have loved never completely leave the road we are traveling. They simply stop walking beside us in the way they once did.

Instead, they travel within us.

Their lessons become part of our decisions.

Their laughter becomes part of our memories.

Their kindness becomes something we pass along to somebody who may never know where it originally came from.

And eventually, pieces of us will travel the same way.

Someone will remember something we said.

Someone will tell one of our stories.

Someone might pour a cup of coffee one morning and smile because something reminded them of us.

That is why the ordinary moments matter so much.

We are always leaving something behind.

A word.

A kindness.

A story.

A memory.

So while you enjoy your coffee this morning, remember that the smallest things you do today may become something another person carries with them for years.

Make them worth carrying.

Have a wonderful morning, and may your coffee be warm, your memories gentle, and your day filled with something worth remembering.

Morning Coffee ––– Don’t Rush The Morning

September 3, 2026August 31, 2026BenjaminLeave a comment

The world may be ready to rush us into the day, but mornings deserve a gentler beginning. Sometimes the best way to prepare for everything ahead is to slow down, enjoy the coffee, and simply notice the quiet moments before the day begins.

September 3, 2o26

Good Morning,

hand holding coffee cup reading good mood juice — _{^{Photo by Connor Scott McManus on Pexels.com}}

The coffee is poured, the day is waiting, and somewhere out there the world has already decided we should be in a hurry.

There is always something waiting for us.

A message that needs answering.

A chore that needs finishing.

A place we are supposed to be.

A problem we have convinced ourselves must be solved before breakfast.

We spend so much of our lives rushing toward the next thing that sometimes we forget to notice the thing we are standing in.

This morning.

This cup of coffee.

This moment.

I think mornings were meant to be entered gently.

Not attacked.

Not conquered.

Not treated like the starting gun at a race.

There is something about those first quiet minutes of the day that belongs only to us.

Before the telephone rings.

Before the television begins telling us what went wrong overnight.

Before somebody somewhere needs something from us.

There is that little pocket of time when the house is still quiet and the coffee is warm, when we can sit for a moment and remember that simply being here is enough.

I have noticed through the years that some of the best mornings are the ones when absolutely nothing happens.

No emergency.

No unexpected visitor.

No major announcement.

Just the familiar sounds of life beginning again.

Maybe a dog stretching nearby.

A refrigerator humming in the kitchen.

A bird announcing itself outside the window.

The soft clink of a spoon against a coffee cup.

Things so ordinary we hardly notice them.

Yet those are often the sounds we miss most when life changes.

We are always being told to make every minute count.

But perhaps every minute does not need to accomplish something.

Some minutes are allowed to simply exist.

Some are meant for sitting quietly.

Some are meant for remembering.

Some are meant for staring out the window while holding a warm cup between your hands and thinking absolutely nothing important at all.

There is value in that too.

Life will begin asking things from you soon enough.

The day will pick up speed.

There will be appointments, responsibilities, decisions and probably at least one thing that does not go according to plan.

But none of that has arrived yet.

Right now, it is morning.

And for these few minutes, you are allowed to simply be here.

So drink your coffee before it gets cold.

Watch the morning arrive.

Let the world wait just a little while.

Because sometimes the best way to prepare yourself for everything waiting ahead is to begin the day without rushing toward any of it.

Have a great day from benandsteve.com, and remember—

You do not have to race through every moment. Some of the best parts of life are found when we slow down long enough to notice them

☕ Morning Coffee ––– The Things We Don’t Notice

August 31, 2026August 29, 2026Benjamin1 Comment

Some of life’s most meaningful moments are the ones we barely notice while they are happening. This Morning Coffee is a reminder to appreciate the quiet, ordinary moments before they become the memories we miss most.

August 31, 2026

There are mornings when nothing remarkable happens.

The coffee brews. The house slowly wakes up. A dog stretches somewhere nearby. A car passes down the street. Maybe the sun finds its way through the blinds and lands across the floor in that familiar place it always seems to find.

man sitting by table and drinking from pitcher — _{^{Photo by Lucas Andrade on Pexels.com}} **Somedays you need a cup. Somedays, you need two. And, somedays you need the whole damn pot!**

Nothing extraordinary.

And yet, I have come to believe these may be some of the most important mornings we are given.

We spend so much of our lives waiting for something significant to happen. We look forward to birthdays, vacations, reunions, holidays, accomplishments and celebrations. We mark the big moments on calendars and take photographs so we will remember them.

But most of life happens somewhere in between.

It happens while we are standing at the kitchen counter waiting for the coffee to finish brewing.

It happens during the quiet conversation across the breakfast table.

It happens when someone asks, “Did you sleep okay?”

It happens when the dog follows you from one room to another for absolutely no reason other than the fact that wherever you are seems to be where he wants to be.

These moments rarely announce themselves as important.

There is no music playing in the background.

Nobody takes a photograph.

There is no ceremony.

And yet someday, these may be the moments we miss the most.

I think that is one of the lessons age quietly teaches us. The ordinary days we once hurried through eventually become the memories we would gladly revisit.

The sound of someone laughing in another room.

A familiar chair sitting beside the window.

A favorite coffee cup.

Someone calling your name from the other end of the house.

Things that once seemed ordinary somehow become treasures after enough years have passed.

Maybe that is why I have learned to appreciate mornings like this one.

There is coffee in the cup.

There are people I care about somewhere in this world.

There are memories behind me and, God willing, a few more waiting ahead.

And for the moment, nothing particularly remarkable is happening.

Which, when you think about it, is something rather remarkable itself.

So this morning, while you drink your coffee, take a look around.

There may be something happening right now that someday you will give almost anything to experience one more time.

Sometimes the best parts of life are the ones we almost failed to notice.

Have a great day from benandsteve.com — and remember, ordinary moments have a way of becoming extraordinary memories.

Morning Coffee — The Sunday Coffee Pot

August 30, 2026August 29, 2026BenjaminLeave a comment

Sunday coffee has a way of slowing the world down. Sometimes the best thing we can do before another week begins is sit quietly, sip slowly, and remember how much there still is to be thankful for.

August 30, 2026

coffee in white mug on magazines — _{^{Photo by Loow Invernissi on Pexels.com}}

Sunday coffee tastes different.

I don’t know that there is anything scientific behind that statement. The beans are the same. The water comes from the same faucet. The coffee pot certainly hasn’t learned what day of the week it is.

But somehow, Sunday morning coffee knows.

It knows there is no reason to rush.

The coffee pot can sit there on the counter and quietly do its job while the rest of the house slowly decides whether it is ready to join the day.

There are mornings when coffee is practically a piece of emergency equipment. You pour it while looking at the clock, searching for your keys, wondering where you left your glasses, and trying to remember whatever important thing you promised yourself the night before that you absolutely would not forget.

Sunday coffee doesn’t seem interested in any of that.

Sunday coffee says, Sit down.

The world will still be there in ten minutes.

Maybe that is one of the little gifts we have forgotten how to appreciate.

I often find myself reflecting on the Sundays of my childhood, especially those quiet early mornings when only my father and I were awake.

The test pattern had just disappeared from our black-and-white television, and the first program of the morning was the children’s show Davey and Goliath. It was followed by a gospel music program featuring the Florida Boys. I enjoyed both, although the second one was certainly aimed more toward my dad’s age group than mine.

When the gospel program ended, Dad would usually look at me and say, “Let’s go.”

Most Sundays, he already had a few sacks of groceries packed and ready to deliver around the southwest part of town, where much of Binger’s Black community lived. We had chickens—hundreds of them, at least it seemed that way to me as a child—along with cattle and pigs. My father shared what we had with people he believed truly needed it.

As we made those rounds, he would sometimes give me one of his little lessons.

“You don’t see a single one of them getting commodities at City Hall when they’re handing them out,” he would say. “Nope. It’s all these fine-to-do white people.”

There was always just a little preaching mixed into his words.

Even at that young age, I understood what he was showing me. I had already begun to recognize the hypocrisy he was talking about—the difference between what people said about others and what was actually taking place right in front of us.

Once our morning deliveries were finished, we would stop and buy the Sunday newspaper from the sidewalk vending machine. Dad would toss it into the pickup, and then we would head for the only café in town open on Sunday morning.

That was where Dad gathered what I now jokingly call his weekly community intelligence.

He listened.

He visited.

He heard who was doing what, who was upset with whom, whose crops were doing well, whose family was having trouble, and whatever else happened to be making its way through town that morning. Then, during the following week, he could use that information to maneuver his way through conversations in the barbershop.

And I had my own use for it.

Come Monday morning, I could walk onto the school playground and tell my classmates what I had heard their neighbors talking about over Sunday breakfast.

For a kid with a speech impediment, having a little inside information turned out to be a surprisingly useful way to keep a conversation going.

We spend so much of our lives preparing for the next thing that we sometimes fail to notice the thing we are living right now.

The coffee pot understands none of this, of course.

It simply sits there.

A little steam rises.

The kitchen begins to smell familiar.

A cup gets filled.

And for a few moments, nothing else is required of us.

There was a time when Sundays seemed almost designed around slowing down. Stores opened later. Families gathered for dinner. Church bells rang. Newspapers were thicker. People sat on porches longer.

Even the telephone seemed to understand that Sunday morning was not the appropriate time to cause trouble.

Today, the world rarely takes a day off.

Our phones buzz.

The news keeps moving.

Someone somewhere desperately wants us to know about a sale ending at midnight.

But the old coffee pot still offers the same invitation it always has.

Stay awhile.

Listen to the quiet.

Think about the people you love.

Remember the ones who once sat across the table from you.

Be thankful for those who still do.

And maybe leave a little room in your day for absolutely nothing important at all.

Because sometimes doing nothing important is exactly what the soul needs.

So this Sunday morning, pour another cup.

Let the coffee pot keep warm whatever is left behind.

And before you hurry into another week, give yourself permission to sit quietly with the life you already have.

It may not be perfect.

It may not always be easy.

But somewhere between the first sip and the bottom of the cup, you might discover there is still quite a bit worth being thankful for.

Have a wonderful Sunday from benandsteve.com — and may your coffee be hot, your morning be peaceful, and nobody ask you to do anything important until at least the second cup.

☕ Morning Coffee ––– Look How Far You’ve Come

August 26, 2026August 20, 2026Benjamin1 Comment

We spend so much time looking at how far we have left to go that we sometimes forget the miles already behind us. This morning’s coffee is a reminder to turn around occasionally and appreciate just how far you’ve come.

August 26, 2026

Most mornings, we look ahead.

a person holding a plastic cup with drinking straw — _{^{Photo by Czapp Árpád on Pexels.com}}

We think about what needs to be done today, what is waiting for us tomorrow, and where we hope to be sometime down the road.

We don’t often turn around and look behind us.

Maybe we should.

There are roads you’ve already traveled that once frightened you.

There were problems you were certain you couldn’t solve.

There were nights you wondered how you would make it until morning.

There were changes you didn’t ask for, goodbyes you weren’t ready to say, and circumstances you never imagined would become part of your story.

Yet here you are.

Coffee in hand.

Another morning.

Still going.

We have a habit of measuring ourselves by how far we have left to go instead of recognizing how far we have already come.

It’s a little like climbing a hill while staring only at the top.

Every step reminds you that you aren’t there yet.

But turn around for a moment.

Look at the distance behind you.

Suddenly, those little steps don’t seem so little anymore.

Life is like that.

Growth rarely announces itself while it’s happening.

We simply get up each morning and keep going.

We learn.

We adjust.

We stumble.

We get back up.

And somewhere along the way, without realizing it, we become stronger than the person who first started down the road.

Maybe you’re not where you hoped you would be by now.

That’s all right.

Perhaps there are things you still want to accomplish, relationships you want to mend, places you want to see, or pieces of yourself you’re still trying to understand.

Keep going.

But every once in a while, turn around.

Remember the things you’ve survived.

Remember the lessons you’ve learned.

Remember the people you’ve loved and the people who loved you along the way.

Give yourself credit for the miles already traveled.

You earned every one of them.

Sometimes we need to stop asking, “How much farther?” and take a moment to say, “Look how far I’ve come.”

So this morning, before you hurry toward whatever is waiting ahead, sit with your coffee for another minute.

Look back down the road.

That person standing there in your memories had no idea whether they would make it this far.

But they did.

You did.

And today, the road continues.

Now, let’s have another cup before we get moving.

Until tomorrow, may your coffee stay warm, your memories stay close, and your hope stay strong. The coffee will be waiting again tomorrow, and I hope you’ll be here to share it with me.

— Benjamin Groff II
Morning Coffee at benandsteve.com

Morning Coffee — And Then Tuesday Came…

August 25, 2026August 13, 2026Benjamin2 Comments

Sometimes the best thing a morning can bring is absolutely nothing extraordinary. An ordinary Tuesday, a familiar chair, a dog underfoot, and a warm cup of coffee can remind us that the everyday moments are often the ones holding our lives together.

Morning Coffee — August 25, 2026

By Benjamin Groff II GroffMedia© | benandsteve.com | ©2026

August 25, 2026

There is something wonderfully dependable about an ordinary Tuesday.

elegant coffee mug with coffee beans on dark background — _{^{Photo by Nikhil Choudhary on Pexels.com}}

It doesn’t arrive with a marching band. There are usually no balloons tied to the mailbox, nobody sends you a card congratulating you for making it, and unless you’ve made special plans, Tuesday doesn’t expect very much from you.

It simply shows up.

And sometimes, that is exactly what we need.

This morning, the coffee pot doesn’t know where I’ve been. It doesn’t care how many miles I’ve traveled, what happened yesterday, or what might be waiting tomorrow.

Its job is remarkably simple.

Make coffee.

I appreciate that kind of dependability.

There are times in our lives when everything seems important. Every telephone call matters. Every appointment has to be remembered. Every mile has a destination, and every day on the calendar has something written beside it.

Then eventually, along comes an ordinary morning.

You wake up.

You shuffle toward the kitchen.

You put on the coffee.

Maybe the dog looks at you as though breakfast is already fifteen minutes late.

You look out the window and discover that the world managed to keep turning while you were asleep.

And suddenly the biggest decision facing you might be whether you want another cup.

Those ordinary mornings don’t receive enough credit.

We spend so much of our lives waiting for the big things—the vacation, the birthday, the reunion, the promotion, the holiday, the celebration—that we sometimes overlook the hundreds of perfectly ordinary days holding everything together.

But those are the days where most of life actually happens.

Tuesday morning coffee.

A familiar chair.

A dog underfoot.

Someone you love somewhere nearby.

A little sunlight coming through the window.

Nothing remarkable enough to make the evening news, but everything important enough to make a life.

Maybe that’s why I’ve grown to appreciate ordinary things so much.

They don’t demand anything from us.

They simply remind us that we’re still here.

There are chores to do today. There will probably be something that doesn’t go according to plan. Somebody somewhere will irritate us. Something will make us laugh. We’ll forget why we walked into a room at least once, and we’ll probably remember something important five minutes after we should have remembered it.

In other words, it should be a perfectly normal day.

And this morning, that sounds pretty good to me.

So here’s to Tuesday.

Here’s to the coffee pot doing exactly what it was designed to do.

Here’s to familiar faces, ordinary conversations, dogs who believe every day should revolve around them, and all those little moments we rarely recognize as blessings until someday we miss them.

You don’t need something extraordinary to happen today for today to matter.

Sometimes the ordinary day is the gift.

Pour yourself another cup.

Tuesday has arrived.

And that’s news enough for this morning.

Until tomorrow, may your coffee stay warm, your memories stay close, and your hope stay strong. The coffee will be waiting again tomorrow, and I hope you’ll be here to share it with me.

— Benjamin Groff II
Morning Coffee at benandsteve.com

Morning Coffee — Morning Coffee — August 21, 2026

August 21, 2026August 12, 2026BenjaminLeave a comment

“We are remembering our mother over coffee this year. It is her first birthday since she has been gone—the first birthday we have not been able to celebrate with her. But we will celebrate her, remembering the life she lived and the memories she left behind.”

By Benjamin Groff II GroffMedia© | benandsteve.com | ©2026

August 21, 2026

This morning’s coffee tastes a little different.

We’re in Oklahoma.

^{_{Marjorie and her sister Opal Mae Burke}}

Yesterday, Steve and I carried my mother across the miles, with Otis faithfully keeping watch beside her. Somewhere along the way, the landscape began changing into something familiar.

Home.

It’s an interesting word, isn’t it?

We spend much of our lives deciding where home is. We move. We build lives elsewhere. We find people we love and create new homes with them. Yet there are places buried so deeply within us that merely seeing the countryside can awaken memories we didn’t realize were still there.

Today, Mom rests in Elk City.

It is a town woven into Steve’s and my story because this is where we met in 1982. We couldn’t have known then where the road ahead would take us.

And we certainly couldn’t have imagined that more than forty years later we would return together carrying my mother on the final miles of her journey.

Tomorrow will be different.

Tomorrow we will travel through country filled with family history.

We will take Mom near Sentinel, past the land where her parents made their home during the 1930s. We will continue toward Cordell, where my own story began, and then east toward Binger—the community where so much of our family’s life unfolded.

Tomorrow, my mother’s journey ends beside my father.

But not today.

Today is for remembering.

Today is for another cup of coffee, another Oklahoma morning, and the realization that sometimes going home isn’t about returning to a house.

Sometimes it is simply about returning to the people and places that made us who we are.

Until tomorrow, may your coffee stay warm, your memories stay close, and your hope stay strong. The coffee will be waiting again tomorrow, and I hope you’ll be here to share it with me.

— Benjamin Groff II
Morning Coffee at benandsteve.com

☕ Morning Coffee ––– You May Be Someone’s Good Memory

August 18, 2026August 12, 2026BenjaminLeave a comment

There are probably people carrying a good memory of something you did long ago, even though you’ve forgotten all about it. This morning’s coffee is a reminder that the smallest kindness can become part of someone else’s story.

August 18, 2026

a cup of coffee with a smiley face drawn on it — ^{_{Photo by Ersan Yılmaz on Pexels.com}}

There are people from years ago whom I still remember for the smallest reasons.

They didn’t save my life.

They didn’t give me some great piece of wisdom.

They may not even remember me.

But I remember them.

I remember the person who took an extra moment to explain something when I didn’t understand.

The person who laughed with me when I needed to laugh.

The person who noticed I was having a difficult day and asked, “Are you doing okay?”

The person who poured another cup of coffee without being asked.

Funny, isn’t it?

We often think we have to do something extraordinary to make a difference in somebody’s life.

Most of the time, we don’t.

Sometimes we are remembered simply because we were kind when kindness was needed.

There are probably people walking around today carrying a memory of something you once did for them.

You may have forgotten it completely.

They haven’t.

Maybe you encouraged someone when they were ready to quit.

Maybe you sat beside somebody who didn’t want to be alone.

Maybe you made a child laugh.

Maybe you told someone they were doing a good job when nobody else bothered to notice.

To you, it may have been nothing more than an ordinary moment.

To them, it became part of their story.

That’s something worth thinking about over coffee this morning.

We spend a lot of time wondering what people think of us.

Perhaps a better question is:

How do people feel after they’ve been around us?

Do they leave feeling a little better?

A little more hopeful?

A little less alone?

Because long after people forget what we wore, what we owned, or how important we thought we were, they often remember how we treated them.

And someday, years from now, someone may be sitting at their own kitchen table with a cup of coffee remembering you.

Not because you did something remarkable.

But because, on an ordinary day when they needed it, you were kind.

Never underestimate the possibility that one small kindness from you may become someone else’s lifelong memory.

So today, give somebody something good to remember.

It doesn’t have to cost a thing.

A smile will do.

A kind word will do.

Taking a moment to listen will do.

Sometimes the smallest things stay with us the longest.

Now, how about another cup?

Until tomorrow, may your coffee stay warm, your memories stay close, and your hope stay strong. The coffee will be waiting again tomorrow, and I hope you’ll be here to share it with me.

— Benjamin Groff II
Morning Coffee at benandsteve.com

☕ Morning Coffee – Some Mornings Are Meant to Be Ordinary

August 16, 2026August 12, 2026BenjaminLeave a comment

Not every morning needs to be extraordinary. Sometimes the quiet, ordinary moments—the warm coffee, familiar voices, and people nearby—are the ones we eventually miss the most. Come sit for a while. The coffee is ready…

By Benjamin Groff II GroffMedia© | benandsteve.com | ©2026

August 16, 2026

Not every morning arrives carrying a lesson.

charming cafe conversation in scenic european town — _{^{Photo by Serge Hulne on Pexels.com}}

Sometimes morning is simply morning.

The coffee is brewing. The house is quiet. Somewhere outside, a bird is carrying on a conversation with another bird that apparently has a great deal to say.

And nothing particularly important is happening.

We have become so accustomed to looking for significance that we sometimes overlook the beauty of an ordinary day.

We celebrate birthdays, anniversaries, weddings, graduations, promotions, and all those other days we circle on the calendar. We take photographs. We gather people together. We remember them years later.

But when we look back on our lives, something interesting happens.

We begin missing the ordinary days too.

We remember sitting at the kitchen table while someone we loved stood at the counter.

We remember hearing their footsteps coming down the hallway.

We remember the sound of the screen door closing.

We remember someone asking, “Want another cup?”

At the time, none of it seemed important enough to remember.

Yet somehow we did.

Maybe that is because a life isn’t made mostly from extraordinary moments.

It is made from thousands upon thousands of ordinary ones.

The morning somebody handed you a cup of coffee.

The afternoon you sat on the porch doing absolutely nothing.

The evening everyone was home and nobody realized how precious that would someday become.

We didn’t know we were making memories.

We thought we were simply living.

Perhaps that is something worth remembering this morning.

You don’t have to accomplish something remarkable today for today to matter.

You don’t need a celebration.

You don’t need an announcement.

You don’t even need a particularly good story to tell when the day is finished.

Sometimes it is enough that the people you care about are nearby, the coffee is warm, and another morning has found its way to your door.

So don’t hurry through all of it.

Take an extra sip.

Listen to the sounds around you.

Notice who’s sitting across the table.

Someday you may discover that the mornings you once thought were ordinary were some of the most precious mornings you ever had.

The ordinary moments of today may become the treasured memories of tomorrow.

And that seems like a pretty good reason to pour another cup.

Until tomorrow, may your coffee stay warm, your memories stay close, and your hope stay strong. The coffee will be waiting again tomorrow, and I hope you’ll be here to share it with me.

— Benjamin Groff II
Morning Coffee at benandsteve.com

☕ Morning Coffee ––– The Detour May Be the Better Road

August 15, 2026August 12, 2026BenjaminLeave a comment

Not every road we travel is one we planned to take. Sometimes the detour introduces us to people, places, and possibilities we would have otherwise missed. Grab your coffee—we’re taking the scenic route this morning.

August 15, 2026

Most of us begin the day with some idea of how we expect it to go.

men sitting beside a brick wall having coffee — ^{_{Photo by Daniel Nouri on Pexels.com}}

We know where we need to be, what needs to get done, and perhaps even what time we hope to have everything finished.

Then life puts up a detour sign.

Something changes.

A telephone call comes. Someone needs us. The car won’t start. The appointment runs late. A plan we were counting on falls apart. Suddenly, the road we expected to travel is closed, and we are headed somewhere we never intended to go.

I have traveled enough country roads in my life to know that detours can be frustrating.

But I have also discovered something else about them.

Sometimes the road you didn’t intend to travel shows you something you would never have seen otherwise.

You notice an old farmhouse sitting beneath a grove of trees. You cross a creek you didn’t know existed. You find a little town you have never visited. Maybe you meet someone you would never have met had everything gone according to plan.

Life works much the same way.

Some of the people who become important to us arrive because something else didn’t work out. Some of our greatest opportunities begin with disappointment. Some of the stories we eventually treasure started on days when we thought everything was going wrong.

That doesn’t mean every detour is pleasant.

Some are difficult. Some hurt. Some take us a long way from where we thought we would be.

But getting somewhere differently doesn’t always mean we are lost.

So, as you have your coffee this morning, perhaps there is something in your life that hasn’t gone according to plan.

You may be staring at a detour sign right now, wondering why the road ahead had to change.

Give it a little time.

Keep going.

Look out the window along the way.

There may be something waiting on this road that you could never have found on the one you originally planned to travel.

Sometimes the unexpected road becomes the one that takes us exactly where we needed to go.

Pour yourself another cup.

We’ve still got some traveling to do.

Until tomorrow, may your coffee stay warm, your memories stay close, and your hope stay strong. The coffee will be waiting again tomorrow, and I hope you’ll be here to share it with me.

— Benjamin Groff II
Morning Coffee at benandsteve.com

☕ Morning Coffee ––– What If Today Is Enough?

August 13, 2026August 12, 2026BenjaminLeave a comment

By Benjamin Groff II GroffMedia© | benandsteve.com | ©2026

August 13, 2026

Good morning, my friends.

Pour yourself a cup of coffee and sit with me for a few minutes.

cup of coffee on plate — _{^{Photo by Oğuzhan Karataş on Pexels.com}}

We spend a lot of time thinking about what comes next. Tomorrow’s plans. Next week’s worries. The things we still need to accomplish and the places we hope someday to go.

But what if, just for this morning, today is enough?

What if the cup of coffee in your hand is enough to enjoy without thinking about the next one? What if the people around you are enough to appreciate without waiting for a special occasion to tell them so? What if this ordinary Wednesday deserves to be enjoyed simply because we are here to experience it?

Not every day needs to become a milestone.

Some days are meant to be lived quietly—watering the flowers, calling an old friend, laughing at something silly, watching the sun move across the room, or sitting for another five minutes with a cup of coffee that has probably already gone cold.

There is a lot of life tucked inside those little moments.

So don’t ask too much of today. Give it your best, appreciate what it offers, and let that be enough.

You don’t have to make today extraordinary. Just be present for it. Sometimes that is what makes a day extraordinary after all.

Until tomorrow, may your coffee stay warm, your memories stay close, and your hope stay strong. The coffee will be waiting again tomorrow, and I hope you’ll be here to share it with me.

— Benjamin Groff II
Morning Coffee at benandsteve.com

☕ Morning Coffee – Before You Hurry Past It

August 12, 2026August 11, 2026BenjaminLeave a comment

August 12, 2026

Good morning, my friends.

fresh espresso flowing into white mug — ^{_{Photo by mehmetography on Pexels.com}}

Before the day gets busy, pour yourself a cup of coffee and stay here for just a moment.

We spend a surprising amount of our lives waiting for something. We wait for Friday, for vacation, for better weather, for the next celebration, or for the day when things finally settle down.

Meanwhile, life keeps happening.

It is happening in the coffee you’re holding. In the morning light coming through the window. In the familiar voice from the other room. In the dog waiting patiently for you to notice him. In the ordinary little routines we sometimes hurry through without realizing how precious they are.

Years from now, some of the things we barely notice today may be the very things we would give anything to experience once more.

So don’t rush through all of today trying to reach tomorrow.

Drink the coffee while it’s warm. Listen to the story you’ve heard a hundred times. Say “I love you.” Stay an extra minute when your heart tells you to stay.

There will always be somewhere else to go.

But there will never be another today.

Take a little time to notice your life while you’re living it. You may discover that an ordinary Tuesday was something pretty wonderful after all.

Until tomorrow, may your coffee stay warm, your memories stay close, and your hope stay strong. The coffee will be waiting again tomorrow, and I hope you’ll be here to share it with me.

— Benjamin Groff II
Morning Coffee at benandsteve.com

☕ Morning Coffee

Before You Hurry Past It

Good morning, my friends.

Before the day gets busy, pour yourself a cup of coffee and stay here for just a moment.

We spend a surprising amount of our lives waiting for something. We wait for Friday, for vacation, for better weather, for the next celebration, or for the day when things finally settle down.

Meanwhile, life keeps happening.

Years from now, some of the things we barely notice today may be the very things we would give anything to experience once more.

So don’t rush through all of today trying to reach tomorrow.

Drink the coffee while it’s warm. Listen to the story you’ve heard a hundred times. Say “I love you.” Stay an extra minute when your heart tells you to stay.

There will always be somewhere else to go.

But there will never be another today.

Take a little time to notice your life while you’re living it. You may discover that an ordinary Tuesday was something pretty wonderful after all.

Until tomorrow, may your coffee stay warm, your memories stay close, and your hope stay strong. The coffee will be waiting again tomorrow, and I hope you’ll be here to share it with me.

— Benjamin Groff II
Morning Coffee at benandsteve.com

☕ Morning Coffee ––– The Things We Carry Forward

August 10, 2026August 9, 2026BenjaminLeave a comment

Monday August 10, 2026

Good morning, my friends ––

white ceramic mug with coffee — _{^{Photo by Andrew Neel on Pexels.com}}

Pour yourself a cup of coffee, settle into your favorite chair, and let’s spend a few quiet moments together.

Every day, we carry a little something forward from yesterday.

Sometimes it’s a worry we should have left behind. Sometimes it’s a wonderful memory we hope never to lose. And sometimes it’s something another person gave us without even realizing it—a kind word, a little encouragement, or simply the feeling that somebody cared.

We carry those things with us.

That’s worth remembering today because you may be the person who gives someone else something good to carry into tomorrow.

A smile costs nothing. Neither does listening for another minute when someone needs to talk. A few words of encouragement may seem small when we offer them, but to the person receiving them, they might be exactly what was needed.

So while you’re finishing your coffee this morning, think about what you’d like to leave behind when today is over.

Leave a little kindness.

Leave someone smiling.

Leave somebody feeling a little better because your paths happened to cross.

We don’t always get to choose what tomorrow brings, but we can choose what goodness we send ahead to meet it.

Until tomorrow, may your coffee stay warm, your memories stay close, and your hope stay strong. The coffee will be waiting again tomorrow, and I hope you’ll be here to share it with me.

— Benjamin Groff II
Morning Coffee at benandsteve.com

Morning Coffee – The Good We Leave Behind….

August 9, 2026August 8, 2026Benjamin4 Comments

August 2026

How’s your coffee this morning?

☕ Morning Coffee – The Good We Leave Behind

The Good We Leave Behind

_{^{The act of good will you do today may}}
_{^{be the blessing you receive tomorrow.}}

Good morning, my friends,

Pour yourself a cup of coffee, settle into your favorite chair, and stay here with me for a few minutes before we get started with the day.

Have you ever noticed how the smallest kindness can stay with you for years?

Someone once offered you a seat when you were tired. A friend called at exactly the right moment. A teacher believed in you when you weren’t quite sure you believed in yourself. Perhaps somebody simply looked across a table and said, “I’m glad you’re here.”

They may have forgotten the moment entirely.

You didn’t.

How’s your coffee this morning?

That’s something worth remembering as we begin today. We never really know which of our ordinary actions will become part of someone else’s treasured memories.

So hold the door. Make the call. Give the compliment. Pour someone another cup. And if somebody seems like they could use a little encouragement, don’t wait for them to ask.

The world doesn’t always need another grand gesture.

Sometimes it just needs another good person having an ordinary day and choosing to be kind.

Go into today knowing that something very small you do may become something very big in the heart of someone else.

Would you like another cup?

Until tomorrow, may your coffee stay warm, your memories stay close, and your hope stay strong. The coffee will be waiting again tomorrow, and I hope you’ll be here to share it with me.

— Benjamin Groff II
Morning Coffee at benandsteve.com