On Monday, Megan came up to me showing a message on her phone.

“Is this your Wade Forbes?”

I looked at the screen. A message from Robin, her friend since high school, with a link to a Facebook post.

My first thought was, “What did I do now?”

You know that feeling when someone asks if you’re you, and you’re not sure if you should admit it?

Clicked the link.

There it was. A photo of a napkin I’d drawn a few days earlier at JG’s Pub in Deep Creek, Maryland. Posted by the restaurant with a caption about a customer leaving a thank you drawing for their waitress.

And people were commenting. Actually commenting. On a small-town restaurant’s Facebook page.

JG’s Pub

We’d been in Deep Creek for the weekend with friends. One of those spontaneous getaways where you pick a place on the map and just go.

JG’s Pub is the perfect kind of local haunt. Small beer list and the kind of atmosphere where everyone knows everyone, except for the weekend visitors like us.

Our waitress was one of those people who makes dining out feel easy. Got us seated quickly despite showing up without a reservation. Stayed patient when half the beers on their short list weren’t available. Kept our drinks filled and our table happy without hovering.

Good service. The kind that deserves acknowledgment.

So I did what I (try to) always do. Grabbed a napkin and drew a quick thank you note. Took maybe six minutes while we were finishing up.

Nothing elaborate. Handed it to her on our way out.

Check it out:

The Routine

This isn’t news. I draw thank you notes for servers, bartenders, flight attendants, anyone who makes the experience better. It’s just part of how I want to move through the world now.

There’s no attempt to make a statement or create content (though this napkin is turning into content, this time hopefully with a point). It’s because these sketches take six minutes and feel better than just leaving a standard tip (which we did!) and walking away.

Probably drawn hundreds of these napkins over the years. Most get thrown away after a smile and a thank you. Some end up taped to mirrors or tucked in apron pockets. All of them disappear from my world the moment I hand them over.

Again, that’s the point.

But this one didn’t disappear.

When Napkins Travel

The restaurant posted it. A few people commented, more than usual for their page, apparently. Robin saw my name in the signature and messaged Megan.

That was it. A napkin I’d completely forgotten about had somehow connected two people who hadn’t talked in years.

I looked at JG’s other Facebook posts out of curiosity. Menu updates, event announcements, the usual restaurant social media. Most had no comments at all. A couple had one or two.

​This one?​

​

This one had actual excitement happening.

Have to say, for the Facebook comments section, this is no small feat.

This is what Draw for Hope looks like in practice, I guess. Not grand gestures or viral moments, just small acts that happen to land somewhere meaningful.

I draw these napkins because it feels right, not because I’m trying to create ripple effects or social media content. Most of them probably end up in the trash, and that’s fine.

But sometimes they don’t. Sometimes they end up on restaurant Facebook pages or in old friends’ text messages.

You can’t plan for that. You can only show up consistently and see what happens.

No Plan Required

Does a six-minute napkin drawing posted on a local restaurant’s page change the world? Of course not.

Was it brilliant or beautiful? Nope. Not at all.

But it was unexpected. A small break in the usual pattern of ordering, eating, paying, leaving.

The goal isn’t perfection. The goal is to be done, and to be thankful. Everything else is just bonus.

Grateful you are here,

Wade

PS - I mentioned Draw for Hope above, and will again here. It’s what I talk about in the email series.

Starting small, and staying consistent with simple everyday action.