He will know when the time comes.

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On New Year’s Day in 2011, I stopped in at a Catholic church in San Antonio. I was just sitting in a pew reflecting on who I am and what I believe, when I saw a young man walk up the main aisle and take his place in an empty pew nearer to the front.

It soon became clear that he was crying. After a bit, I got up and walked over to him and asked him if he needed a hug. He said, “Yes ma’am. I sure do.” I hugged him, told him it would be ok, then headed back down the aisle. On my way out of the church I burst into tears. I waited outside for a bit (the friend I was traveling with was still in the church), and then I headed back in. I passed the young man who was now talking with the rector. I overheard most of their conversation — the young man was a new dad who couldn’t afford diapers for his baby daughter. He couldn’t figure out what to do, so he came to pray.

I had pulled money out of the ATM on my way downtown, so I had cash on me. I took out three twenties, lined them up in such a way that he had to read across all three to get the message, and wrote that, when the time comes, he will know to pay this forward. I folded the money in my hand and passed by the two men at the front of the church. I shook the young man’s hand and left the money in his palm. Then, I exited with my friend. We hadn’t gone very far down the street before the man came running up and gave me a huge hug and thank you. I don’t know which of us was more moved by our encounter. – Diane ♥