Jimmy was shocked when the homeless man he had bought coffee for earlier boarded the plane and sat next to him in first class. Who was he, and why had he been asking for money in the first place?

 

I had never thought much about fate until I met Kathy.

Three months ago, she walked into my life, and within weeks, she became my world. People called me crazy for proposing to her after just a month, but I couldn’t ignore how everything fit so perfectly with her.

We shared the same vision for life, the same love for skiing, and even a mutual obsession with sci-fi novels. It felt like the universe was nudging me, whispering, she’s the one.

And now, here I was, flying to meet her parents for the first time.

Kathy had warned me about her father, David. She described him as a stern man who didn’t give his approval easily. But she also insisted that he had a good heart and loved her more than anything.

To be honest, I was terrified. I knew I had only one chance to prove that I was worthy of his daughter, and I didn’t want to mess it up.

I arrived at the airport way too early, my nerves pushing me to leave home long before I needed to. To kill time, I walked into a cozy café across the street.

The hum of conversation and the aroma of fresh coffee were a welcome distraction from the thoughts spinning in my head.

That’s when I noticed him.

The man shuffled in, wearing tattered clothes. His face was lined with the kind of wrinkles that told the story of a hard life. His shoulders were slightly hunched, and his eyes—tired yet sharp—scanned the room as if searching for something.

I watched as he approached a few tables, speaking softly to the people sitting there.

Most people shook their heads, avoided eye contact, or offered a mumbled apology. Then, he stopped in front of my table.

“Excuse me,” he said politely. “Could you spare some change? Just enough for a coffee.”

I hesitated. My first instinct was to refuse. Not because I didn’t care, but because I wasn’t sure how much I could trust him. Some people are genuine, while others are just looking for handouts.

But something about him felt different. He wasn’t pushy, and he seemed embarrassed to even ask.

“What kind of coffee do you want?” I asked.

“Jamaican Blue Mountain,” he said, almost sheepishly. “I’ve heard it’s really good.”

I almost laughed. It was the most expensive option on the menu. For a moment, I thought he might be joking. But the way he looked at me made me pause.

“Why that one?” I asked.

“It’s my birthday,” he smiled. “I’ve always wanted to try it. Thought… why not today?”

A part of me wanted to roll my eyes.

Sure, it’s your birthday, I thought.

But another part of me decided to believe him.

“Alright,” I said, standing up. “Let’s get you that coffee.”

His face lit up with a genuine smile. “Thank you,” he said.

But I didn’t just buy him coffee. I added a slice of cake to the order because, honestly, what’s a birthday without cake? When I handed him the tray, I gestured to the empty chair at my table.

“Sit down,” I said. “Tell me your story.”

For a second, he hesitated, as if unsure whether I was serious.

But then he sat down, cradling the coffee cup as if it were something sacred. And he began to talk.

His name was David, and he had lost everything years ago—his family, his job, even his home. Betrayal and bad luck had played their parts, but he didn’t make excuses.

He spoke clearly, with a kind of raw honesty that made it impossible not to listen.

As I sat there, I realized this wasn’t just a man looking for a handout. He was someone life had broken, yet he hadn’t given up.

When he finished his story, I felt a lump in my throat that I couldn’t swallow. I gave him $100 before leaving, but he tried to refuse.

“Consider it a gift from me, man,” I told him. “And happy birthday!”

I walked out of that café thinking I had done a small, good thing for a stranger. I never imagined I’d see him again. Or that he would turn my entire world upside down just hours later.

The airport was buzzing with its usual chaos as I sat in the first-class lounge, sipping another cup of coffee.

My nerves about meeting Kathy’s parents had settled a little, but the thought of her father loomed large in my mind. What if he didn’t like me? What if he thought I wasn’t good enough for her?

I picked up my phone to text Kathy, who had already arrived at her parents’ house.

I’m super nervous, I wrote. How’s it going over there?

It’s all great, she replied. I’m sure Dad’s going to love you.

When the boarding call came, I lined up and found my seat by the window.

First class felt like a luxury I didn’t deserve, but Kathy had insisted I treat myself for once. As I buckled in and looked around, I couldn’t help but think about the man from the café. His story had stayed with me.

I hoped the $100 I had given him had made his birthday a little happier.

Just as I was settling in, a figure stepped into the aisle. My heart nearly stopped when I looked up at his face.

It was him. The same man from the café.

But he wasn’t wearing the tattered clothes from before.

No, this man was dressed in a tailored suit, his hair neatly combed, and a gleaming watch on his wrist.

He caught my eye and smiled.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked casually, taking the seat beside me.

I stared, my brain refusing to process what I was seeing. “What… what’s going on here?”

He leaned back, a mischievous smile on his face. “Let’s call it… a test.”

“A test?” I repeated. “What are you talking about?”

The man chuckled quietly as he pulled out a sleek notebook from his bag.

“Let me properly introduce myself. I’m David,” he paused, watching my reaction. “Kathy’s father.”

“Wait… you’re her dad?” I blurted. “The one I’m flying to meet?”

“One and the same,” he said, still smiling. “You see, I’ve always believed in a hands-on approach. I wanted to see who my daughter’s fiancé really is—outside of polished dinner introductions and carefully rehearsed answers.”

I couldn’t believe it. Why hadn’t Kathy told me about this? Was she in on it?

“So, this was all a setup?” I asked.

“A necessary one,” he answered calmly. “It’s easy to show kindness when everyone is watching. But I wanted to know how you’d treat a stranger—especially one who seemed to have nothing to offer you. Turns out, you passed the first part.”

“The first part?” I echoed. “How many parts are there?”

He handed me a pen and his notebook. “Just one more. Write a letter to Kathy.”

“A letter?”

“Yes,” he said, leaning back. “Tell her why you love her, why you want to marry her, and how you’ll take care of her. Don’t overthink it. Just be honest.”

I stared at the blank page, my hands sweating. This wasn’t what I had signed up for. But as much as I wanted to protest, I knew I couldn’t.

So, I started writing.