I had stepped outside from the clinic to catch a breath of fresh air when I saw a man approach the door to our food pantry. He gave the door a brisk tug. It was locked.
I looked at my watch and sighed. It was well past closing time.
"I'm really sorry. The pantry is closed," I said. "You can come back tomorrow during our regular hours."
The man's face fell. He had the wrong information about the pantry hours but needed food right away.
Nearby, there stood another man. He had arrived before closing time and had his entry number.
"You really need the food today?" he asked.
"Yes, I've barely got anything left for the kids," the first man responded.
"Here, take my number," said the second man. "I can come back tomorrow."
And with that, he disappeared into the parking lot.
Giving sometimes means we sacrifice convenience for ourselves. But that gift always brings irreplaceable joy.
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