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Sean hesitated. Two dollars was lunch. Two dollars was the difference between his children eating and not. He looked out the window at them waiting, their faces tired but patient.
Then he looked back at the old man.
“Sir,” he said gently, holding them out, “it’s not much, but you can have this.”
The man stared at him, stunned. “Thank you,” he said, voice thick. “I just need water for my pills.”
Sean nodded. “That’s what it’s for.”
The man insisted on getting Sean’s phone number so he could repay him. Sean gave it without thinking much of it. He didn’t expect anything to come of it. He just wanted the man to be okay.
The next morning, Sean woke to the sound of engines outside the tent.
Two black SUVs sat nearby. Men in clean jackets stepped out and approached him calmly. They handed him a sealed envelope and told him he needed to be at a specific address later that day.
Confusion gave way to anxiety. Sean had learned to expect bad news, not good. Still, he went.
The address led him to a modern office building. Inside, he was escorted into a quiet conference room. Sitting at the table was the man from the gas station.
The man smiled. “Sean,” he said, standing to shake his hand. “My name is Matthew.”
Matthew explained that he owned a successful manufacturing company. The gas station incident had not been staged, but it had been revealing. He had watched dozens of people walk past him that day. People with money. People in expensive cars. None stopped.
Sean did.
“You gave me your last two dollars,” Matthew said plainly. “Not because you had extra. Because you had character.”
Matthew told him he was starting a new business venture and wanted a partner. Not an investor with capital, but someone with integrity. Someone who would put people before profit.
Sean was honest. He said he didn’t have money, a home, or stability to offer.
Matthew smiled. “I already have money,” he said. “What I don’t have enough of is heart.”
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