The Stranger Behind Me
written by: Phyllis Souza
Standing at the checkout stand, I was about to slide my credit card into the reader.
“What are you doing?” I said to the stranger behind me.
“I’m paying for your groceries,” he answered as he slid his card in first.
“No, please. What are you, independently wealthy or something? My bill is almost a hundred.”
“I’m a Vietnam Vet and wanted to give. You can do the same for someone else some time.”
“I will.”
Imagine, he wanted to give. Shouldn’t it have been the other way around? I’m deeply humbled.
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