I thought I was just buying a warm meal for a homeless man. I never expected it would change both our lives. His name was Morgan. I found him sitting outside the grocery store, staring at food through the window, hungry and alone. I invited him to shop with me. He was hesitant but grateful. As we walked the aisles, he only reached for the bare minimum, always apologizing. I insisted he get a hot meal,
and we talked like old friends. The next morning, I realized I had accidentally given him both gallons of milk meant for my kids. I returned to the store, only to find Morgan—clean, standing tall, dressed in a crisp military uniform,
