The Day My Oat Milk Disappeared (and What It Taught Me About Kindness)
When we have been wronged, especially by minor, commonplace injustices that erode our tolerance, it is simple to feel justified in our annoyance.
But occasionally, there is a backstory to those irritations that we haven’t bothered to discover.
A far deeper truth—not about stealing, but about poverty, dignity, and the silent struggles people face behind closed doors—was exposed in this story by what started out as a small act of retaliation.
The actual lesson?
that a little kindness goes a long way compared to a mouthful of retaliation.
I take my own oat milk to work because I have a serious dairy allergy.
It has a label.
Nevertheless, it continued to vanish, and I was forced to forgo my usual cup of coffee.
I got petty and put baking soda and toothpaste in a container.
I heard gagging in the break room the following day.
To my dismay, it turned out to be Clara, the new employee, rather than the anonymous “milk thief” I had imagined.
My stomach dropped the moment she hurried to the sink, her face turning pink.
Everyone in the office was aware of Clara’s difficulties.
She had accepted the work in order to help her younger brother, and there were allegations that she was skipping meals in order to save money.
I had never considered the possibility that the offender may be desperate rather than irresponsible because I had been so preoccupied with my annoyance—with feeling wronged.
Later, with guilt still gnawing at me, I went up to her.
She refused to look into my eyes.
“I apologize,” she whispered.
“I simply… This week, I couldn’t afford groceries, and I didn’t think using a splash would make a difference.
The toothpaste trick felt terrible at the time.
Her acts were motivated by survival, while my pettiness had been motivated by annoyance.
It became a silent custom between us when I offered to buy her lunch.
We discussed life, suffering, and the silent masks people wear to conceal it over coffee and sandwiches.
The milk made from oats?
Not because I frightened away a robber, but because I put compassion before resentment, it never went away again.
Even the tiniest conflicts we face can teach us something greater: kindness is considerably more nourishing than retaliation.
