I drove B to the airport this morning at oh-dark-hundred. On my return trip I stopped at my neighborhood drive-through Starbuck's (it opens at 4:30) for a cup of coffee and a breakfast sandwich (my guilty pleasure).

As I drove around the building and through the alley, I saw a man headdown in a dumpster, retrieving a half-eaten bun and another unnameable piece of food. I asked him was he hungry, he nodded yes. So I gave him my breakfast sandwich, and if I had been completely awake, I would have given him the coffee, too.

This was obviously not one of those people who panhandle for extra cash, so obnoxious outside of grocery stores and on street corners. This man, who had obviously made an effort to look presentable, was not begging, and hungry and down on his luck.

I couldn't drive away, well-fed and warm, while he scrabbled for other people's scraps in the freezing cold of early morning.

There, but for the Grace of God...I am deeply thankful to have a roof over my head, clothes on my back, and food in the cupboards. I will never forget being homeless and broke and cold, and I will always express my deep gratitude for a second chance, and for the opportunity to share what I have. You never know when a single act of kindness will make all the difference.

I hope he can get a cup of coffee to go with his sandwich.