Imagine you're sitting in your bedroom, alone, on the first Friday of the summer. School just let out, but you have no idea what to do. Then, you get the idea to call up a good friend of yours who has the commonly known idea to go down to a popular ice cream shop downtown. You agree, and she picks you up come 20 minutes later. She brought her car, obviously, and you hop in the front seat. As your friend and you drive down the highway that divides your neighborhood and a wide-open field, you see a man. This isn't any man, this is a man you see every day walking up and down the cracked old highway with a crumpled up cardboard sign reading, "Spare change anyone? I'm trying my best to stay out of the way..." When you walk in, you order and sit down, eating your triple chocolate brownie fudge supreme sundae. After you finish your ice cream, a mother and her child walk into the store. The child seems to have the brightest grin and the prettiest eyes you have ever seen. She also looks like she may be around your age (at the time you were peaking 10 years of age). But you can see, as they order their treats, the mother is frantically searching for her change. The young girl doesn't seem phased at all as if she's used to this happening a lot more than it should. They then ask if there's any way that they can have it for less than what they paid, as it's $1.57 short of the full payment. The stingy clerk said, "Move along lady, there are other people in line that can ACTUALLY pay for their stuff." You and your friend sit there in awe as you give an opposing look at the pair as they run out of the store, tears welling in their eyes. On the way home, you see the same man, but this time you see a dog, what looks to be like the same daughter and mother that you saw in the store. Your friend drops you off, and then she's on her way. You walk inside, throw your things onto your couch, run into your bedroom and cry. You feel so guilty for what you've done that you don't even know how to respond anymore. But then you have an idea. After wallowing in sorrow for a good two minutes, you grab a firm hold of your wallet, but you don't know why. You get to finish the rest of the story.
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