A grandmother on a rocking chair, smiling in front of a fireplace in a cozy home | Source: Midjourney
I spoke up before I knew it. “Two coffees and two shawarmas.”
The vendor nodded and worked at lightning speed. “$18,” he flatly said as he placed my order on the counter.
I handed over the money, grabbed the to-go bag and a tray, and rushed to catch up with the homeless man.
When I gave him the food, his hands shook.
“God bless you, child,” he whispered.
I nodded awkwardly, ready to hurry to head home and away from this cold weather. But his raspy voice stopped me.
Woman in her late 30s holding a to-go bag and smiling on a snowy street | Source: Midjourney
“Wait.” I turned and watched as he took out a pen and paper and scribbled something quickly, then held it to me. “Read it at home,” he said with a strange smile.
I nodded, stuffing the note into my pocket. My mind was already elsewhere, wondering if there would be any seats on the bus and what I would make for dinner.
***
At home that night, life went on as usual. My son, Derek, needed help with his science project. Amy complained about her math teacher. My husband, Tom, talked about a new client at his law firm.
A mother helping her son with homework | Source: Midjourney
The note stayed forgotten in my coat pocket until I started gathering clothes for the laundry the next evening.
I opened the crumpled paper and read the message:
“Thank you for saving my life. You don’t know this, but you’ve already saved it once before.”
Below the message was a date from three years ago and the name “Lucy’s Café.”
The clothes I was holding nearly slipped from my hands. Lucy’s had been my regular lunch spot before it closed.
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