This happened to me today.
I was walking out to my car to go to synagogue. As I got to it, a man was walking his bike the other direction on the sidewalk. One of us said good morning; the other replied.
"Now, I bet you can't spare a quarter today," he said. He was wearing a stocking cap; his smile was kind and showed the gaps between his teeth.
I told him that I thought I could.
"If I ever win the lottery, I'll pay you back," he said, grinning.
"I'll be waiting for your call," I said. I didn't have a quarter, just some small change, so I handed him a dollar and asked if that would do instead. He took it from me and looked at it for a few seconds. His expression changed.
"You know what, you keep it," he said, handing it back to me. I took it automatically, but I didn't put it away, so my arm was still half-extended over the roof of my car.
"Are you sure?" I said.
He reached into the breast pocket of his shirt and showed me a wad of bills. Folded over, it was at least two inches thick. "Yeah, you keep it. I'm fine."
I put it back in my wallet and smiled. "Well, you have a good Saturday, sir."
He smiled back, sighed a little, patted his pockets. "It's a long weekend," he said. "Got too much money and too little sense." He nodded, took his bicycle by the handlebars and continued down the sidewalk. I got in my car and drove away.
Whem I got to synagogue, it was locked and there was a notice on the door saying that if I was there for Tiffany someone-or-other's Bat Mitzvah, it was being held at the Tiffany Center downtown. It was already twenty minutes after the start of the service, so I headed home. I think I'll spend the next couple hours riding my bike around the city; for some reason, it feels like a suitable trade.
He had the nicest face I've seen in a while.
"Now, I bet you can't spare a quarter today," he said. He was wearing a stocking cap; his smile was kind and showed the gaps between his teeth.
I told him that I thought I could.
"If I ever win the lottery, I'll pay you back," he said, grinning.
"I'll be waiting for your call," I said. I didn't have a quarter, just some small change, so I handed him a dollar and asked if that would do instead. He took it from me and looked at it for a few seconds. His expression changed.
"You know what, you keep it," he said, handing it back to me. I took it automatically, but I didn't put it away, so my arm was still half-extended over the roof of my car.
"Are you sure?" I said.
He reached into the breast pocket of his shirt and showed me a wad of bills. Folded over, it was at least two inches thick. "Yeah, you keep it. I'm fine."
I put it back in my wallet and smiled. "Well, you have a good Saturday, sir."
He smiled back, sighed a little, patted his pockets. "It's a long weekend," he said. "Got too much money and too little sense." He nodded, took his bicycle by the handlebars and continued down the sidewalk. I got in my car and drove away.
Whem I got to synagogue, it was locked and there was a notice on the door saying that if I was there for Tiffany someone-or-other's Bat Mitzvah, it was being held at the Tiffany Center downtown. It was already twenty minutes after the start of the service, so I headed home. I think I'll spend the next couple hours riding my bike around the city; for some reason, it feels like a suitable trade.
He had the nicest face I've seen in a while.