He was sitting there in a booth near the window at my favourite breakfast place. There was something about him that caught
my attention. But thereâ€™s something special about every person I do this for. I buy them their breakfast anonymously.
It started just after my dad passed away. I was travelling and decided to stop on the road for breakfast. Off to my right was an elderly man who had come in right after me. I was lonely and wishing my dad was still here â€” and that man looked so much like him. Same height, same build and walk. I decided right then to secretly pick up his check.
â€œJust tell him he reminded me of my dad,â€ I told the cashier. I paid for his meal and went on my way feeling a little bit happier. Since then, every once in a while I hear a voice inside me and I listen to it. Iâ€™m usually directed to an individual quietly sitting alone in a booth. Age is not a factor, for I have picked up the tab for young and old alike.
I donâ€™t always hear the voice. The voice I speak of is one that also speaks to you. Itâ€™s a quiet voice that speaks of compassion. I argue with it sometimes. â€œOh, no! Youâ€™ve got to be kidding. You want me to do what?â€ Most of the time the voice wins. Iâ€™ve come to trust it, knowing there is a reason for everything. Well, on this particular day, the man in the diner seemed down in his spirit. Almost like he was wondering why he was here. I watched him daydreaming and staring out of the window for long periods of time. â€”Beliefnet.com