Homeless Man Asked Me to Buy Him Coffee on His Birthday – Hours Later, He Sat Next to Me in First Class

I had never given any credence to fate until I met Kathy.

She entered my life three months ago and quickly became my universe. People labeled me crazy for proposing after only a month, but I couldn’t deny how everything came into place with her.

Now I’m flying out to meet her folks for the first time.

Kathy warned me about her father, David. She described him as a harsh man who didn’t give his approval readily. But she also stated that he had a nice heart and loved her unconditionally.

I’d arrived at the airport too early, my nerves pushing me to leave home before it was time. To pass the time, I went into a cozy little coffee shop across the street.

For illustrative purposes only.

That is when I noticed him.

The man shuffled in, wearing shabby clothes. His face was wrinkled, indicating that he had worked hard throughout his life.

Then he stopped in front of my table.

“Excuse me,” he gently said. “Could you spare some change? Just enough for a coffee.”

I paused. My initial thought was to decline.

But something about him felt unusual. He wasn’t pushy and seemed uncomfortable to be asking.

“What kind of coffee do you want?” I asked.

“Jamaican Blue Mountain,” he said, almost sheepishly. “I’ve heard it’s really good.”

For illustrative purposes only.

“It’s my birthday,” he smiled. “Always wanted to try it. Figured… why not today?”

“Alright,” I said, standing up. “Let’s get you that coffee.”

His face brightened with a genuine smile. “Thank you,” he responded.

I didn’t simply buy him coffee, though. I included a slice of cake in the order.

“Sit,” I said. “Tell me your story.”

His name was David, and he had lost everything years before, losing his family, work, and even his home.

As I sat there, I knew he wasn’t simply searching for a handout. This was someone who had been broken by life yet refused to give up.

I gave him $100 before leaving, but he tried to refuse it.

“Consider this a gift from my side, man,” I told him. “And happy birthday!”

For illustrative purposes only.

My anxiety about seeing Kathy’s parents had subsided, but the image of her father lingered in my thoughts.

I pulled up my phone to SMS Kathy, who was already at her parents’ house.

I’m super nervous, I wrote. How’s it going there?

Everything’s great, she texted back. I’m sure Dad’s going to love you.

Just as I was settled in, a figure entered the aisle. My heart nearly stopped when I gazed at his face.

That was him. It’s the same man from the café.

This man had a nice, cut suit, his hair neatly groomed, and a shining watch on his wrist.

“What… what’s going on here?”

He leaned back with a cheeky smile on his face. “Let’s call it… a test.”

For illustrative purposes only.

“Let me introduce myself properly. I’m David.” He paused, watching my reaction. “Kathy’s father.”

“So, this was all an act?” I asked.

“A necessary one,” he replied calmly. “It’s easy to show kindness when everyone’s watching. But I wanted to know how you’d treat a stranger, especially one who seemed to have nothing to offer you. Turns out, you passed the first part.”

He opened the notebook and gave me a pen. “Just one more. Write a letter to Kathy.”

Initially, the words came slowly, stumbling over ideas and feelings. But soon, the pen appeared to move on its own.

By the end, my hand ached, but my heart felt lighter.

“You passed,” he remarked. “Welcome to the family.”

For illustrative purposes only.

When we eventually landed and deboarded, I was physically and psychologically drained.

When we arrived, Kathy’s mother, Susan, greeted us with warmth. Kathy’s brothers and sister were also there.

Dinner was an awkward affair, with everyone making polite talk while David sat back and observed things intently.

I couldn’t help but wonder, Did I really pass?

“You’ve done well, Jimmy,” he said. “You’ve shown me who you really are. And that means something.”

That’s when I discovered a folded piece of paper on the counter.

As I unfolded it, I discovered that it was a receipt for a cup of coffee from the café I had visited earlier that morning. The one in which I met David.

However, the receipt did not include the coffee I ordered for David. There was an extra price at the bottom.

“Extra donation — $100.”

At that time, I recognized I was not marrying into a traditional family. These people were extraordinary, and they wanted me to understand the value of charity. And what it meant to be a member of this family.

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