“No one believes it is my birthday,” he told me with a slight frown. I smiled, “I believe ya’, I’ll find you a birthday cake.”
I searched the block he was sitting on in Chicago, Illinois but the only place open on a Sunday that had anything remotely similar to a cake was a Starbucks. Remembering that he lacked teeth and was scheduled to get new dentures on Monday, I also got him a yogurt, a banana and an orange juice. Of course, I also got him what looked to be some type of a pound cake with white frosting on the top.
When I gave him the cake he smiled and shook my hand while saying, “Thank you.” I then gave him a few bucks so that he can sleep in a bed as opposed to the dirty city streets on his birthday.
“Happiness... consists in giving, and in serving others.” - Henry Drummond, a Scottish evangelist, writer and lecturer.