"Are you still open?" she asked, barely above a whisper.
He hesitated. He was exhausted, and the rain was starting to drizzle. But something in her eyes - loneliness, maybe - made him nod.
"Yes, ma'am. What would you like?"
She looked at the menu board, then back at him. "What can I get for five dollars?"
Jamal smiled gently. "Anything you want."
She sat at the far corner table and slowly ate the hot stew he brought her, savoring every spoonful. She didn't say much, but before she left, she reached into her coat and handed him a folded note.
"Thank you," she said simply, and disappeared into the rain.
Jamal unfolded the paper after locking up.
It read:
"You fed a woman who hadn't eaten in three days. You reminded me that angels don't always have wings. - Martha."
He stared at it for a long moment. Then shrugged, tucked it into the register, and went home.
---
Two weeks later, a black luxury car pulled up outside his stand. A man in a suit stepped out and handed him an envelope.
"I'm the attorney for the late Martha Campbell. You're named in her will."
Inside the envelope was a letter and a check.
One hundred thousand dollars.
The letter read:
> "You gave without asking. Now receive without guilt. Feed more people like me."
- Martha
---
Moral: Kindness is the only investment that never fails.
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