A few years ago, I was having dinner with some good friends to celebrate the upcoming Christmas holiday. As we were finishing up that evening, one of my friends told us a very story about something that had happened the day before. Her son's friend was in his mid-twenties and self-employed. He lived on the second floor of a house nearby. Someone who lived on the first floor had been smoking and fell asleep. The house burnt down. All the people escaped, but the house was completely destroyed with everything in it.
All this young man had werethe clothes on his back and his pickup truck. He had no family in the area and nowhere to go. My friend was putting him up for a few days until he could decide what to do next.
Those of us sitting at the dinner table were horrified. Everyone started opening their wallets to contribute money. My friend put up her hand and said, "He will not accept money. We tried to persuade him, but he thinks it is charity and won't take it. All he wants is a warm coat and some used clothing if anyone has some. "
We were all more than happy to fulfill this request and were told that he wore a size 2XL. None of us knew men who wore that size, so it was going to be a bit of a challenge to take care of this quickly.
It was a typically cold New York Christmas, and I couldn't imagine him without a coat. I shed tears on the drive home, a combination of grateful tears for the many blessings I had in my life and sad tears for this poor youngmanand his troubles.
I went to bed and woke up in the middle of the night with a very clear thought in my mind. I was to find this young man a coat.
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The next morning, I went to a nearby charity shop.
A few minutes later, the salesgirl came out of the back room with a brand-new coat.
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