"Early one chilly morning an American soldier was making his way back to the barracks in London. As he turned the corner in his jeep, he spotted a little lad with his nose pressed to the window of a pastry shop. Inside, the cook was kneading dough for a fresh batch of pastries. The hungry boy stared in silence, watching every move.
The soldier pulled his jeep to the kerb, stopped, got out and walked quietly over to where the little fellow was standing. Through the steamed window he could see the mouthwatering morsels as they were being pulled from the oven, piping hot... The soldier’s heart went out to the nameless orphan as he stood beside him. “Son, would you like some of those?” The boy was startled. “Oh, yeah, I would!”
The American stepped inside and bought a dozen, put them in a bag, and walked back to where the lad was standing in the foggy cold of the London morning. He smiled, held out the bag, and said simply, “Here you are.” As he turned to walk away, he felt a tug on his coat. He looked back and heard the child ask quietly, “Mister, are you God?”
Just remember, your life, my life - might be the only gospel some people ever read.
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