He walks into the bakery…a skateboard in his right hand, knapsack on his back. His left hand fisted. He asks, “how much is two spicy beef patties?”
The server responds, “$3.20 cents.”
He unclenches his left hand, takes a dismal breath and says to himself and replies, “I only have $2.00.” he looks longingly at the beef patties in the warming oven, a sad expression descending upon his features.
The server ….. “you can buy one.”
He didn’t reply, the silence stretches as he kept looking at the change in his left hand.
He seemed unaware of his eyes watering slightly.
“Give it to him. I will pay the difference.”
He raises his eyes to mind, the gratitude was overwhelming.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you so much, thank you,” he kept repeating as he takes the two beef patties and exits the door.
“You’re welcome, no worries.”
$1.20 is a small price to pay to curb someone’s hunger.
Hunger has an emotion, it transmits boldly, eloquently, and it is distinctively clear.