Abridged from Hope Wins: A Collection of Inspiring Stories for Young Readers
Art by Melissa Gorman; Sam Bond Photography (headshot)
Everything I Need to Know I Learned in a Thai Restaurant
Lessons on kindness, respect, and the power of a good meal
By Christina Soontornvat | Art by Melissa Gorman
From the May 2025 Issue
Learning Objective: to write a short memoir using Christina Soontornvat’s as a model
Complexity Factors
Lexile: 810L
Featured Skill:
Narrative Writing,
Other Key Skills: text structure, author’s purpose, text features, figurative language, key ideas, critical thinking
Common Core Standards
TEKS Standards
Melissa Gorman
This is not a knock to any of my teachers, but the most important things I’ve learned weren’t taught to me in a classroom. They were taught to me in a restaurant.
When I was 3 years old, my parents opened a restaurant in the small town of Weatherford, Texas. It was the first Asian restaurant in the whole county. My dad, an immigrant from Thailand, saw it as an incredible business opportunity. He was right: Loyal customers kept our little family restaurant open for nearly 40 years.
When I was a kid, I never gave much thought to what it meant to grow up in that environment. It was just my life. If you had asked me then what the best part of spending so much time at the restaurant was, I would have said it was the endless flow of fountain drinks and free spring rolls.
But now I realize that I learned some big, important lessons about people and about life. And now—like a crispy, hot spring roll passed from fryer to plate—I pass these lessons on to you.
The way to a person’s heart is through their tummy.
Melissa Gorman
Our busiest shift was Sunday lunch. Almost the whole town went to church on Sunday mornings, and they would show up at our door as soon as the services were over. We’d often have a line that stretched onto the sidewalk!
Most of the people who lived in our town attended Christian churches. Then they came to eat food prepared for them by people who were mostly Buddhists. When we first opened, we called ourselves a “Chinese restaurant” because, at that time (in 1983), people there weren’t familiar with Thai food. Over the years, we gradually introduced more and more Thai cuisine to the menu. And we introduced more and more people to Thailand and our culture. Some of our customers even took trips to visit Thailand. Sometimes they met up with our family who lived there! So many connections were made between Thailand and Texas—two places that are on opposite sides of the globe from each other. And it all started with food.
Food is simple and primal. It is unifying. I wish people in this world had more chances to share food with each other. How can you be angry when you’re chowing down on a dish of garlic chicken? How can you judge someone when you’re sharing a plate of dumplings with them?
I’m not going to say something silly, like the solution to world peace is to have political leaders take their meetings at family restaurants. But maybe it wouldn’t hurt? Maybe they’d pass better laws if they also passed each other the shrimp fried rice? And maybe they would realize that everyone, everywhere, deserves to eat good, wholesome food in a safe place. Maybe they would realize that it’s not so hard to take care of each other.
Food is love. Food is peace.
If you don’t believe me, let’s eat some mango and sticky rice together. You’ll come around.
Give the ducks their due.
Melissa Gorman
Mmm, duck. Tender, with a crispy skin, and drizzled in a sweet, spicy sauce . . .
Sorry. Where was I?
There is a well-known metaphor that compares a good restaurant to a swimming duck: On the surface everything looks calm and smooth, but underneath, the duck is furiously paddling its little feet to keep moving across the water. This was a pretty accurate description of our restaurant. When customers came in, we wanted them to feel like they could leave their troubles at the door. Their table would be clean when they sat down. The food would be hot and tasty. Their iced tea glasses would be refilled before they could even ask.
Serenity. Air-conditioning. Smooth instrumental pop hits playing on the stereo.
Back in the kitchen, it was a whole other story: crowded, hot, and noisy!
Cooks slinging sizzling food in the woks, rice cookers filling the room with jasmine-scented steam, waiters shouting that they needed that order of pad ka-prao five minutes ago.
“Two century noodles, one with chicken! One with no bean sprouts!”
“Where’s table nine’s appetizers?”
Staff in the back stuffing wontons, crates of dirty dishes being washed, and the clean ones being carted back out to the dining room. Go, go, go!
Seeing what happened behind the scenes was one of the things I loved most about growing up in the restaurant. It was like knowing a secret no one else did.
And it showed me that there are so many things in life we take for granted when they go smoothly: our schools, our homes, the businesses we frequent. And there is no one who works harder than the people whose work we take for granted. I try to give those people grace and gratitude because I know that underneath it all, their feet are likely paddling like crazy.
Keep calm and restaurant on.
Melissa Gorman
As a little girl, my one restaurant dream was to work the cash register. The register was gray, as big as a microwave, and had brightly colored buttons that made the most satisfying clack when you pressed them.
When I turned 12, my parents decided that I had finally earned the right to ring up customers. On the big day, I proudly pulled up a stool, put on a big smile, and uttered my first “How was the meal, folks?” as I punched the buttons. Clackety, clack, clack.
One woman came up to pay with a credit card. No problem, I had been trained on this. But as I was ringing her amount, I must have gotten a little carried away with the clacking. Instead of charging her $50, I charged her $5,000.
Sweat beaded at my temples. I imagined this woman screaming at me and making a scene. I didn’t really understand financial matters, so I thought I would have to pay for that $4,950 mistake out of my allowance! I smiled at her and said, “Will you excuse me one moment, ma’am? I just need to get an extra roll of receipt paper from the back.”
Be a duck, be a duck, be a duck, I thought as I hurried to the kitchen and told my mom what I did. She came out and was able to issue the woman a refund without much fuss. I thought my mom would be so mad at me and revoke my cash register privileges. Instead, she was proud that I hadn’t freaked out but had solved the problem quickly and calmly. I felt proud, too. That day, I had earned my duck feet.
You can’t judge a human by their handbag.
Melissa Gorman
In the service industry, sometimes you hear people say, “The customer is always right,” but actually, sometimes the customer is extremely in the wrong.
One afternoon, my mom was ringing up customers. Clackety, clack, clack. Mom greeted the next customer in line, an elegantly dressed middle-aged woman. The woman set her large designer handbag on the counter to free her perfectly manicured hands so she could sign her check. She accidentally bumped her bag with her elbow, and it tipped over, spilling out multiple sets of our cutlery: knives, spoons, and forks (no chopsticks).
Mom stood there, blinking, trying to figure out a polite way to say, Um, excuse me, ma’am, but are you STEALING OUR SILVERWARE in your $400 purse?
The woman blinked back at her, finished paying, gathered up her bag, and left without a word. She left the silverware, but she did not leave a tip. Which brings me to a related lesson:
You can’t judge a bro by their boots.
Melissa Gorman
We had this longtime customer, a great big man who owned a small ranch where he raised horses. He always wore scuffed-up cowboy boots, and he always took his cowboy hat off when he came in to eat. He was a quiet man, a country man, and a real polite person. He was one of our favorites.
Well, one day we heard some wild news: That guy had won the lottery! Overnight he had gone from humble ranchman to multimillionaire. I wondered how he would spend his money. A fancy mansion? A fast sports car? Would he still come in to eat, or would he be served caviar by his butler from now on?
The next weekend, he wore the same scuffed-up boots, the same hat. He ordered the same thing and sat at the same table. He was the same quiet, polite person. The only difference was that when he finished his meal, he left a hundred-dollar bill on the table as a tip.
I figured that this guy probably knew what it felt like to be a duck. He could’ve spent his money on anything, but he chose to use it to show gratitude for people’s hard work. I always thought that was real classy.
When they go low, we go, “Hi, would you like a table or a booth?”
Melissa Gorman
For the most part, the people who came to eat with us were class acts, and the restaurant was a place of mutual respect and kindness. But not everyone in our town was so kind.
Growing up as one of the only Asian American kids in my school wasn’t easy. Even though I made some of my best memories and strongest friendships in Weatherford, I also dealt with racism and xenophobia. [Xenophobia is fear or hatred of people from other places or cultures.] I got told to go back to China numerous times, was called a “China doll,” and was told that “my people” eat dogs.
Sometimes kids would pull the corners of their eyes at me and shout, “Ching chong, bing bong!” Racism is so hurtful and cruel, and it also sounds so, so stupid. Really? Ching chong, bing bong? Yeah, you are really proving your superiority with that one, folks.
Anyway, there was a boy who was one grade above me, and he was the worst. He would consistently say these stupid, awful things. But the boy’s family were regulars at our restaurant. They were kind of quiet, not overly friendly but not rude, either. (That kid definitely never spoke a racist word while he was scarfing down our scrumptious chicken satay.)
My dad and I never spoke about racism when I was young. I worried he wouldn’t understand or that it would make him feel bad for moving our family to a town where we were outsiders. But one day I decided to tell my dad about this boy. I told him all the mean things the boy said and that surely he was learning this stuff from his parents.
My dad nodded. “Yeah, honey, I know. I believe you.”
So I was hoping that this kid was going to get his comeuppance. I didn’t think my dad was going to cause a scene, but couldn’t be tell the cooks to hide some chiles in his pad thai? Serve him the crusty rice scraped from the bottom of the pot?
Instead, the next time the family came in, my dad was just as polite as ever. I watched them clean their plates, pay, and leave with satisfied sighs.
For a girl who had imagined her archnemesis sprinting for the bathroom from an epic Thai chile-burn, it was pretty disappointing.
I later realized my dad knew what he was doing. By giving that family quality service and delicious food, he was elevating himself above their ugliness.
Now, don’t get me wrong. If they had been violent or disruptive, they would have been kicked out. Otherwise, he was going to give them a meal they’d talk about for weeks.
My dad was an immigrant, born poor, who raised himself from a factory job to open a restaurant that people drove 100 miles to eat at. There was pride in what he could do. There was dignity in being excellent when others expected him to fail.
The harsh truth is that plenty of terrible people never get their comeuppance or see the error of their ways. But they can’t take away our dignity. They can’t deny our excellence. And we belong here just as much as anyone else.
And if they can’t handle that, then no satay for them. Their loss.
We are all influencers.
Melissa Gorman
There is this term in social media: influencers. They are the people who are so popular and influential that they can set global trends.
I didn’t realize it until recently, but our restaurant was full of influencers. One of the biggest was our manager and headwaiter, my uncle Donis. Donis wasn’t on social media. He didn’t own anything fashionable. He didn’t jet to glamorous places.
When my uncle passed away after battling cancer, we received stacks of letters from customers. Many of them said similar things:
“Donis always made us feel so welcome.”
“He remembered our favorite dishes and had them ready for us.”
“He treated us like family.”
As I read these messages, it hit me how much a small act of kindness can mean to someone. Too many people in this world feel forgotten. Too many don’t feel like they deserve love. Taking the time to learn someone’s name or what they like to eat, or to greet them warmly and look them in the eye—you never know when that’s going to make a difference in someone’s day.
I wish my uncle had known how much of an influence he had. Maybe he did know. Maybe he was trying to teach everyone that they have this power too.
We are all influencers. We all have the power to be good to people. Out of all the lessons I learned in the restaurant, that one is my favorite.
That, and how to pick out the right dipping sauce for grilled chicken.
Now, who’s hungry?
“Everything I Need to Know I Learned in a Thai Restaurant” Copyright 2025 by Christina Soontornvat from the book Hope Wins.
Philomel Books
Writing Contest
Write your own “Things I Learned” short memoir, using Soontornvat’s as a model. Your memoir can be about lessons learned at school, at summer camp, from soccer—anything! Entries must be submitted to Memoir contest by a teacher, parent, or legal guardian.* Three winners will each get a copy of Hope Wins, edited by Rose Brock.
*Entries must be written by a student in grades 4-12 and submitted by their teacher, parent, or legal guardian, who will be the entrant and must be a legal resident of the U.S. age 18 or older. See Contest Page for details.
This story was originally published in the May 2025 issue.
Audio
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Activities
(6)
Preparing to Read
Reading and Discussing
Skill-Building Activities
Answer Key
(1)
Audio
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Activities
(6)
Preparing to Read
Reading and Discussing
Skill-Building Activities
Answer Key
(1)
Step-by-Step Lesson Plan
Close Reading, Critical Thinking, Skill Building
Essential Questions: Where do we learn life’s most important lessons? What is the relationship between empathy and kindness? How can sharing food with others be a powerful experience?
1. Prepare to Read
(20 minutes)
Think About Life Lessons (10 minutes)
On your board, post the following definition:
Life lesson: something you learn that is useful about how to live your life. Life lessons can make us better people and help prepare us to handle the challenges that come our way.
Direct students to read the definition and then write a response to the following prompt: Where and how do we learn life lessons?
Come together as a class to briefly discuss students’ ideas.
Preview Vocabulary (10 minutes)
Project the Google Slides version of Vocabulary: Definitions and Practice on your whiteboard. Review the definitions and complete the activity as a class. Highlighted words: archnemesis, comeuppance, mutual, primal, revoke, serenity, superiority. Audio pronunciations of the words and a read-aloud of the definitions are embedded on the slides. Optionally, print the PDF version or share the slideshow link to your LMS and have students preview the words and complete the activity independently before class.
2. Read and Discuss
(75 minutes)
As a class, read the definition of memoir that precedes the story. You might ask students to name other memoirs they’ve read, whether in class or on their own. If needed, remind students that first-person point of view is when the narrator tells the story from their own perspective, using the pronouns “I” and “me” (or, if the narrator is referring to being part of a group, the pronouns “we” and “us”).
Read the “As You Read” box on page 11 or at the top of the digital story page.
For students’ first read, have them follow along as they listen to the audio read-aloud, located in the Resources tab in Teacher View and at the top of the story page in Student View.
Optionally, have students reread and annotate the story independently. Here are some symbols you might have them use:
❗ = I’m surprised.
❓ = This is unfamiliar.
⭐ = This is important.
💭 = “I wonder . . .” (add comments or questions)
💙 = I love this.
Divide students into groups to discuss the questions in the story along with their annotations. (The discussion questions appear in the margins of the print magazine or by clicking on the bolded words on the digital story page.) If you’d like students to respond in writing, an interactive and printable Discussion Questions activity is available in your Resources tab.
Discussion Questions (30 minutes)
1. What is the purpose of the introduction (the first section)? (text structure, author’s purpose) The purpose of the introduction is to provide background information for what you are about to read. In the introduction, the author explains that growing up, she spent a lot of time at the Thai restaurant her parents owned and that her dad was an immigrant from Thailand, which you need to know for the rest of the essay to make sense. The other purpose of the introduction is for the author to state her purpose: to share some of the big, important lessons about people and life that she learned as a kid while spending time in her parents’ restaurant.
2. Explain the title of this section and how it connects to what the section is about. (text features, figurative language) In this section, the author explains that eating delicious Thai food at her parents’ restaurant led to people in their Texas community learning about Thai culture and even forming bonds with Thai people. In this way, the section, which is titled “The way to a person’s heart is through their tummy,” explains how eating, an experience for the tummy, led to caring about people from another culture, an experience of the heart.
3. What lesson does Soontornvat describe learning in this section? Why might she consider this an important lesson? (key ideas, critical thinking) Soontornvat describes learning that we often take people’s work for granted when things run smoothly and that the people whose work we take for granted are among the hardest working people out there. Soontornvat might consider this an important lesson because it reminds her not to take people and their work for granted but to instead give people the appreciation and gratitude they deserve.
4. Explain what Soontornvat meant when she told herself to “be a duck.” Where else in the essay does this idea appear? (figurative language, text structure) When Soontornvat told herself to be a duck, she was telling herself to appear calm and collected, giving the customer the impression that nothing was wrong, while meanwhile working frantically to correct the mistake she’d made with the cash register. The idea of working at a restaurant being like a swimming duck is introduced and explained in the section of the essay called “Give the ducks their due.” The idea comes up again in the section “You can’t judge a bro by their boots.” (The metaphor: Both restaurant workers and ducks appear to be doing their work calmly, gracefully, and effortlessly, while in fact they are working furiously behind the scenes.)
5. Soontornvat writes that the lesson in this section is related to the lesson in the previous section. How are the two lessons related? (text structure) Both sections are about learning not to judge or make assumptions about people based on their appearance. In the previous section, a well-dressed, apparently wealthy woman turns out to be stealing silverware from the restaurant; in this section, a humbly dressed man leaves the restaurant staff a huge tip after he wins the lottery. What happens in both of these cases goes against stereotypes that are often held about people based on their appearance.
6. What does Soontornvat mean when she says her dad elevated himself above the family’s ugliness? Do you think this was easy for him to do? Do you think it was the right choice? (critical thinking) Soontornvat means that though her father knew the boy in the family had made hurtful, racist comments (which he’d likely learned from his parents), her father treated the boy and his family respectfully and served them a great meal. Soontornvat’s dad did not sink to the level of the family, but instead remained dignified and acted as his best self. Students might say that it was likely not easy for Soontornvat’s father to act as he did; when people disrespect or hurt us, it’s normal to want to strike back. As to whether it was the right choice, answers will vary, but students may say it was the right choice, because he was being true to himself and behaving according to his morals rather than being dragged down into behaving in a different, uglier way. Students might also suggest that insulting someone or being rude to them is not an effective way to change their thinking. On the other hand, some students might argue that Soontornvat’s father would have been within his rights to tell the family they were not welcome in his restaurant.
3. Write
(20 minutes)
Have students use the Featured Skill Activity: Narrative Writing to help them to respond to the writing prompt on page 14 in the printed magazine and at the bottom of the digital story page:
Write your own “Things I Learned” short memoir, using Soontornvat’s as a model. Your memoir can be about lessons learned at school, at summer camp, from soccer—anything!
Alternatively, have students choose a task from the Choice Board, a menu of culminating tasks. (Our Choice Board options include the writing prompt from the magazine, differentiated versions of the writing prompt, and additional creative ways for students to demonstrate their understanding of a story.)
Connected reading from the Scope archives about food, family, and lessons in life:
Text-to-Speech