Red Butterflies
Token Tales — Reflections on invisibility, presence, kindness, and what it means to be noticed through small handmade notes.
A friend and I met for lunch. Yami was our server. Her full name is Yamileth. She told us it comes from the Arabic name Jamila (or Yamila), which means beautiful.
She has red butterflies tattooed on her arm. My friend asked if they meant something to her. That was her first tattoo... red because it used to be her favorite color. Now it's pink. She has a friend who does her immaculate nails. And she loves being able to cross-train with her colleagues, from interacting with customers to being the barista.
We didn't need to know any of this. We could have ordered our lunch, carried on with our conversation, said thank you and left. We didn't. We led with curiosity. We engaged with sincerity.
As I was leaving, I called Yami's name. She turned around and saw the handmade token in my hand.
"Oh! You made one for me, too."
I had. In pinks and reds.
Then she looked at me more closely. "You're the same person who gave one to Nico!"
He is one of her coworkers. I'd met him on an earlier visit and handed him a token, too.
I laughed. "Yep. That's me."
For eight years, I've been asking the names of people I encounter in ordinary places. More than 3,000 handmade tokens later, I'm increasingly convinced that the token is the least interesting part. A name is just the beginning. Because once you ask someone's name, you might ask another question. And then another.
And suddenly "our server" is Yamileth. The guy who found us a shaded spot is Myles. The woman with halloween-themed nails who brought out our food is Angie.
People. Not just their roles.
માનસી
Received a token? I'd love to hear where we met and what stayed with you.
