It was a blissful Saturday morning in New Jersey. I stationed myself near a bakery and sat down. I grasped a tin can in my hand, hoping for a bit of change. One by one, the customers entered the bakery and left, not even glancing at me. Of course, to them, I was a poor man with a shabby old beard and raggedy clothes. I sighed and got up to leave when a young boy dropped a quarter into the can. It landed with a loud clang and I looked up at him to see him smiling. As he walked away I pulled out a hundred dollar bill and snuck it into his backpack. Perhaps he would buy a new toy car or an action figure. I smiled to myself and left.
The next day I woke up in the alley where I normally slept. I decided to take a visit to the bank. When I entered, the lady at the front desk was rather surprised to see me.
"Mr. Monzerelli, what are you doing here?"
I whipped out my premium card and replied, "I'd like to make a transaction of 250,000 dollars please."
The lady nodded and escorted me to my personal bank, which was the size of a house.
I took out some wads of hundred-dollar bills before thanking the lady.
As I exited the bank, the lady stopped me and asked, "Why when you have the fortune of a billionaire would you stay on the streets, homeless?"
I just smiled and laughed. "Oh to me it doesn't matter whether I'm rich or not. I care about giving back to those who have been so kind to me.
The lady was still confused and just stared at me as I joyfully walked away.