What You Need

a young man and a beggar

"Excuse me, sir," the old man tiptoed around the question. "But could you spare some change?"

The younger man offered him a smile as he plunged his hand into the pocket of his faded blue jeans. There was a cosmic quality to him, an etherealness that he exuded. Though it was subtle, it shone through in the way that his light eyes seemed to possess a kindness, an understanding that went far beyond his years.

"Here," the young man replied. "Take this."

The beggar glanced over the card in his hand, and his wrinkled eyes narrowed in suspicion as he inspected the object in his grip. Though the edges of the simple scratch-off ticket were tattered and worn, the coated boxes remained untouched an pristine, the card still unplayed.

"Thank you, young man," he replied earnestly, although it was difficult for him to mask the bewilderment in his voice. It had to be a cruel joke, a prank of some sort. "But I'm hungry. I need money so that I can buy something to eat."

The younger man's joyous expression refused to fade from his features. "Don't worry, sir."His voice was the sheer embodiment of serenity. "I gave you what you need."

And with a knowing gleam in his eyes, he walked away.