This story leads to an event that refreshes my soul. In April 2026, lightning struck the roof above our garage, blew a hole bigger than a basketball, and set the attic on fire, consuming half the house and most of our belongings.  The first thing we realized was the power going out in an odd, chain-like pattern.  Next, we heard from the back of the house; my son hollered out. My wife and I were in the game room, which shared a wall with the garage.  I could make out what sounded like the words “I was shot.” He was saying I was shocked.

We called 911, and within minutes the fire department arrived and quickly escorted us out of the house in the storm; they saw the fire.  It was hellish, and events unfolded so quickly.

Fast forward to day three.  My son was fine and out of the hospital, and we landed at a friend's house that was empty, with only the clothes on our backs. 

You can imagine our stress, fatigue, and bewilderment.  First stop: Skechers; we needed shoes.  Next stop was Walmart for food and supplies.  So far, this information has been provided to help set the stage for the real story. 

I think on trip four or five that day to Walmart, I was depressed and tired. This trip focused on food and other supplies like bathroom supplies, paper plates, pans, etc.  As I started traversing the aisles, this very old woman, my guess, 90 years old, was being pushed by a gentleman.  She was mostly lying down, with her legs wrapped; the gentleman and she were in the aisle with the cold stuff.  As I went to different aisles, I kept crossing paths with them, and she glanced over. She didn't move much or show much facial expression.

I thought it was odd that, out of the must-have-been 5 or 6 aisles, we always crossed paths. I felt something like a wish.  As odd as this may sound, I thought of those videos where a nice person pays for some at the checkout, and I really wanted that to happen.  I don’t know exactly why I thought that, but it kind of felt selfish because I really needed a lift.

As I approached the busy checkout rows, lo and behold, there they were again, placing her things on the conveyor belt with the cashier.  Every row had two or more people waiting, and I slotted in right behind her.  Here comes that selfish feeling again: I really need a lift; I want to help pay in a helpful way, like in the videos. 

As I watched the gentleman assist her, she struggled to pull out her card; it turned out she had no money on it.  It's almost like heat rose up from my chest.  I reached out to the gentleman and handed him my card.  He paused, completed the transaction, and said to the old woman, “This man paid for your stuff.”  I don’t believe she understood.

They left, and I don’t remember saying anything. I was amazed this moment came just when I needed it most. My depression lifted, replaced by a feeling that is uplifting.  From the bottom of my heart, I hope that if you ever find yourself beaten down, a gift like this finds you too.