For millions of Americans, Sunday mornings begin with the soft piano notes of CBS Sunday Morning and the warm voice of Jane Pauley greeting them like an old friend. On November 23, 2025, that ritual felt more intimate than ever—a hour of stories that wrapped around viewers like a favorite blanket, guided by Pauley’s signature blend of curiosity and compassion.
Opening the Show with a Tribute to Small Town Generosity
The episode kicked off with a trip to Millersburg, Ohio, a town of 3,000 where residents had spent weeks preparing a free Thanksgiving feast for 200 senior citizens living alone. Pauley’s opening monologue didn’t just describe the event; she leaned into its soul. “In a world that often feels hurried,” she said, her tone like a gentle nudge, “Millersburg reminds us that the best gifts aren’t bought—they’re baked, stirred, and served with a smile.” The camera cut to a group of high schoolers rolling pie crusts, their laughter mixing with the scent of cinnamon, and Pauley’s voice faded into the background, letting the community’s kindness speak for itself.
Viewers watched as Mrs. Henderson, an 87-year-old who’d lost her husband the year before, teared up when a teen handed her a plate of mashed potatoes. “My Harold loved mashed potatoes,” she said. The teen, a 17-year-old named Lila, sat down next to her. “Tell me about him,” she said. Pauley’s voice returned later, tying the moment to a larger truth: “Generosity isn’t about size. It’s about showing up—even if all you have is a plate of potatoes and a willingness to listen.” The line resonated with viewers, many of whom later shared stories of their own small acts of kindness on social media.
An Interview That Defined the Hour: Jane Pauley and the Master Woodworker Preserving Heritage
The episode’s centerpiece was Pauley’s conversation with Elias Mendes, an 82-year-old master woodworker in Vermont who’d spent six decades crafting custom furniture using techniques passed down from his Portuguese immigrant father. When Pauley sat down with him in his sunlit workshop—walls lined with chisels, a half-finished oak table in the center—she didn’t start with a list of questions. She started with a observation. “This room smells like memory,” she said, running her fingers over a scarred workbench. Mendes smiled, his eyes crinkling. “That’s pine resin and my father’s cigar smoke,” he said. “I keep a tin of his tobacco in the drawer—reminds me why I’m here.”
What followed was 12 minutes of dialogue that felt less like an interview and more like two people sharing a secret. Mendes talked about the time his father refused to let him use a power saw until he could carve a perfect dove with a hand chisel. “He said, ‘If you can’t feel the wood, you can’t respect it,’” Mendes recalled. Pauley leaned forward, her elbows on the table. “What did that teach you?” she asked. “Patience,” Mendes said. “And that the best things take time. You can’t rush a dove. You can’t rush love.” Pauley nodded, her gaze steady. “Love’s just patience with a heartbeat, isn’t it?” she said. The line trended on Twitter later that day, with users calling it “classic Jane—turning a craftsman’s story into a universal truth.”
Mendes also talked about the first piece he made for his granddaughter: a tiny walnut rocking horse. “She’s 10 now,” he said, “and she still brings it over when she visits. Says it’s her ‘magic horse.’” Pauley’s voice softened. “Magic’s just love with a chisel,” she said. Mendes laughed, wiping a tear from his cheek. “You know,” he said, “my father never told me he loved me. But he taught me to carve doves. He taught me to respect the wood. That was his love language.” Pauley’s response was quiet, but powerful: “Sometimes the quietest words are the loudest.” The moment felt raw, unscripted—exactly what viewers love about Pauley’s interviews.
Behind the Scenes: Jane’s Signature Approach to Storytelling
What viewers don’t always see is the work Pauley puts in before the cameras roll. For the Mendes interview, she spent two hours on the phone with him the week before, asking about his childhood in Fall River, Massachusetts, his first date with his late wife (a milkshake at a diner called The Colonial), even his favorite brand of coffee (black, no sugar). “Jane doesn’t just research—she listens,” says Sarah Haines, a producer on CBS Sunday Morning. “When she sits down with someone, she’s not thinking about the next question. She’s thinking about what the person isn’t saying. With Elias, it was the way he paused when he talked about his father. Jane noticed that, and she leaned into it. That’s why their conversation felt so real.”
Pauley’s approach is rooted in empathy, not performance. She doesn’t try to be the star of the show—she lets the story be the star. “Jane once told me, ‘If people remember me after an episode, I’ve failed,’” Haines says. “Her goal is to make viewers remember the person—the woodworker, the teen serving potatoes, the grandma talking about her husband. That’s why her interviews feel so authentic. She’s not there to shine—she’s there to hold the space for someone else to shine.”
The Episode That Made Viewers Slow Down—and Remember
Social media lit up after the episode. A user named @MaggieFromMichigan tweeted, “Jane Pauley just made me cry into my coffee. That woodworker’s story? My grandpa was a carpenter too. Thank you for making me feel like I wasn’t the only one missing him today.” Another, @SamInSeattle, wrote, “CBS Sunday Morning with Jane Pauley is the only show that makes me slow down long enough to remember what matters. Today’s episode? Perfect.” The feedback wasn’t just online—Pauley received dozens of handwritten letters in the weeks after, including one from a 16-year-old girl in Iowa who said she’d decided to take woodshop class because of Mendes’ story. “Jane told me once that the best stories are the ones that make people feel less alone,” Haines says. “That’s exactly what this episode did.”
The show wrapped up with Pauley standing in a sunflower field—shot earlier that week in Kansas—her voice steady but warm. “Today, we met people who build tables and feasts and magic horses,” she said. “People who hold onto the things that matter, even when the world tells them to hurry up. And in their stories, we saw ourselves. Because home isn’t a house, or a city, or a date on a calendar. Home is the moments where someone looks at you and says, ‘I see you.’ That’s what we tried to bring you today. That’s what we’ll always try to bring you.”
As the camera pulled back, showing the sunflowers stretching to the horizon, the familiar piano music returned. For viewers, it was more than a closing—it was a promise. A promise that next Sunday, Jane Pauley would be there, ready to share another story that felt like home.
For CBS Sunday Morning, that’s the secret sauce: it’s not just a show. It’s a conversation. And Jane Pauley is the best kind of conversation partner—someone who listens, who cares, who makes you feel like you belong. On November 23, 2025, she didn’t just host a show. She gave millions of people a reason to believe in the magic of small stories. And in a world that’s often loud and chaotic, that’s the greatest gift of all.
When the credits rolled, viewers didn’t just turn off their TVs—they held onto the feeling. The feeling of being seen. The feeling of being home. And that’s exactly what Jane Pauley and CBS Sunday Morning do best.