02/18/2025
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.
