A homeless and poor Brandon offers his last $2 to an elderly man in need at the gas station store and inherits his company the next day.
Brandon thinks this is the start of a new life for his family.
Brandon clutched his paper cup with change as he shuffled into the gas station store.
He was near an aisle when a loud voice distracted him.
He saw a queue of angry shoppers waiting behind an elderly man who had difficulty hearing.
“I’m sorry, what did you say about the water being funny?” the elderly man asked the cashier.
“Money!” she groaned. “I said you don’t have enough money, sir!”
“Yes, it was a sunny day!” replied the man with a frown.
“You need more cash! For the water!” A younger guy standing behind the man grabbed him by the shoulder and yelled into his ears.
Brandon noticed everything.
He was tempted to step in, but he didn’t want to attract the shoppers’ ire. Meanwhile, the elderly man explained he didn’t have enough cash, asking if he could get a smaller bottle of water as he needed to take his pills.
“If you can’t afford to pay, you’ll have to go!” shouted the cashier.
“I can go?” He smiled and turned to leave, but the cashier snatched the water bottle from his hand. “Just get out, old man!” she hissed.
“You’re way too much trouble!”
The elderly man requested that he needed to take his pills, but his pleas fell on deaf ears.
Brandon had had enough. He marched to the cashier and offered to pay for the old guy.
“Have a heart, lady,” he said and emptied his cup on the counter. The woman looked at him in distaste before she counted the money.
“That’ll cover it,” she said, taking all the money, including his last $2.
“Now step aside. You’re holding the line.”
Brandon abandoned his can of beans on the counter as he offered the water to the older man.
“Here you go, sir. I got you water,” he spoke slowly and clearly, ensuring the man could see his face if he needed to lip-read.
And the man thanked him. They left the store together, and Brandon headed to his tent on the bare patch of ground adjacent to the station, but the man stopped him.
“Wait!”
Brandon turned around.
“Why did you help me when you obviously needed the money?” asked the older man.
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned from being homeless, sir,” said Brandon, “it’s that the world works when people are kind to each other.”
“But what are your kids going to eat? You left the beans on the counter.”
“We have the last of yesterday’s bread,” Brandon replied.
“We’ll get by.”
The man walked away but with a frown. Brandon noticed he got in a gleaming SUV and wondered why a man like him couldn’t afford a bottle of water.
The next day, while Brandon was dividing cold fries among his kids, a silver sedan pulled up near his tent. A man in a fancy suit approached.
“Morning, sir.
Mr. Grives’s last wish was for me to deliver this to you,” he said, extending an envelope.
Brandon wiped his hands and took it. There was a letter inside.
“Dear sir,
Yesterday, you proved yourself to be a man of good character when you spent your last few dollars for me.
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page.
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