I BOUGHT SHAWARMA AND COFFEE FOR A HOMELESS MAN — IN RETURN, HE GAVE ME A NOTE AND TOLD ME TO READ IT AT HOME.
That evening, the thermometer showed 26.6°F. The wind cut through my coat, and snowflakes stung my cheeks. All I wanted was to get home, take a hot bath, and sip cocoa. But as I approached the shawarma stand near the corner, my steps faltered.
There he was — a man wrapped in tattered fabric, trembling as a scrappy dog pressed against him for warmth. His rough, pleading voice broke through the cold.
“Just a cup of hot water, please,” he asked.
“GET OUT OF HERE!” the vendor snapped, not even looking at him.
The dog whimpered, and something inside me broke. My grandmother’s words echoed: “Kindness costs nothing but can change everything.” I stepped forward.
“Two coffees and two shawarmas, please.”
The vendor frowned but filled the order. Blushing, I handed the bag and cups to the man. “Here,” I muttered.
As I walked away, his raspy voice stopped me. “Wait.” He held out a crumpled paper. “Read it at home,” he said with a strange smile.
I stuffed the note into my pocket, dismissing it as I focused on my commute, work emails, and the hundred other trivialities of modern life.
It wasn’t until the next evening, as I cleaned out my coat pocket, that I found it. The paper was creased and worn, but the message was clear.
The words left me speechless. I whispered to myself, “Is this real?”
On a bitter winter evening, I bought shawarma for a homeless man and his dog, thinking it was just a small act of kindness. But when he slipped me a note, it revealed a past I’d forgotten.
I worked at a mall and had a rough day dealing with holiday shoppers and family stress. As I left work, I saw the homeless man eyeing the shawarma stand. He asked the vendor for hot water, but was turned away. Moved by my grandmother’s lesson on kindness, I bought the man and his dog food.
The next day, I found a note from the man: “Thank you for saving my life. You don’t know this, but you’ve already saved it once before.” It mentioned a date and a café I used to frequent. I remembered a rainy day when I’d bought a desperate man coffee. That same man was now homeless.
Determined to help, I found him again, and we spoke. He revealed that my small act years ago had kept him going. I promised to help him more and, with my family’s support, we got him back on his feet. He found work, and we helped him with legal issues and basic needs.
A year later, he brought me a cake, thanking me for saving his life three times. His transformation reminded me how easy it is to miss the struggles of others, and how small acts of kindness can change everything.
I share my grandmother’s words with my children: “Kindness costs nothing but can change everything.” You never know when it will be a lifeline for someone.
