Every morning at Walnut Springs Elementary School, just after the sun rises, something unexpected happens.
Cars pull up. Doors open. Sleepy kids climb out, backpacks half-zipped, still shaking off the early hour. And then—almost instantly—the energy shifts.
“Hi, Tom!”
The children don’t just say it. They yell it. They light up.
And there he is.
Tom, a retired grandfather, stands at the drop-off line, dressed head to toe in a costume. Not occasionally. Not for a special event. But every Tuesday—Taco Tuesday—and again on Fridays, when the costume changes but the spirit stays the same.
Today, he’s a taco—full taco costume, complete with shell and all—greeting children like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
One little voice calls out his name, and Tom fires right back, “How did you know it was me?”
The kids erupt. Laughter bounces across the pavement. One runs up, throws their arms around him, then pulls back for a high five.
“Whoa, careful,” Tom says, stepping back dramatically. “You’re gonna crack my shell!”
More laughter—bigger this time.
If you ask Tom why he does it, his answer is simple. If he can bring a smile to a kid who’s had a hard morning, it’s worth it. If he can remind a child—before they step out of the car—to tell their mom “I love you,” that matters. That’s the part he carries with him.
He’ll tell you he gets just as much—maybe more—than he gives. That the energy he puts out comes right back to him. That joy somehow multiplies when it’s shared.
And he’s not doing it for attention. There’s no audience beyond a line of minivans and a handful of teachers trying to keep things moving. No spotlight. No recognition. Just a man who decided, somewhere along the way, to show up for kids in the most joyful, consistent way he could.
Every week, he chooses to be a reason someone smiles before the school bell rings.
That’s it. That’s the whole thing.
No grand gesture. No big announcement. Just presence. Just effort. Just joy, on purpose.
And in a world that can feel heavy before the day even begins, Tom stands there, sometimes in a taco suit, sometimes in something entirely different, reminding a line of kids that mornings can be fun, people can be kind, and someone is genuinely happy to see them exactly as they are.
Start first.
Not when it’s convenient. Not when it’s noticed.
Just show up.
Even if it’s in a taco costume.
Have You Seen Kindness in the Wild?
We’re collecting real-deal, everyday moments of kindness happening right here in Dripping Springs. Whether you witnessed it, felt it, or were the one who offered it, we want to hear your story.
Get in touch at CityLifestyle.com/drippingsprings. Got a photo? Even better.
Big or small, if it made your heart beat louder, we want to know.