When I was about 12, we were driving through Nevada and stopped someplace to get gas/food. It was a really hot day, and there were very few cars going through the area. Next, to the gas station, there was a guy lying down on the sidewalk, completely face down, and for a moment I was afraid the guy was dead. My dad sees this and sees that I’m afraid, so he goes over to the guy and asks what’s wrong.
The guy isn’t dead, just homeless, broke, and on his way by foot to the nearest big city (about 10 miles away) because someone said they could get him a job there. My dad nods, and then goes to the gas station and comes out with a large bag of food and water, and gives it to the guy. The guy almost cries thanking my dad for the food and water and says “This will help me walk to the city. Thank you so much!” and my dad goes “Walk? It’s only 10 miles away.
Get into the car, and I’ll drive you there.” So we drive 10 miles, and during this time we hear about the guy’s life story; how he lost all his money paying for someone’s (family member?) hospital bills, then lost his job, then his home, and was just desperate to try and pick up his life. He’s going for an interview as a janitor at some place and thinks he can make a decent living off the job. We get to the place, and while the guy gets out of the car, my dad says
“Oh, wait a minute, I have some extra ties in the trunk. I’ll give you some for your interview. And here’s my business card. If you don’t get a job, give me a call.” Dad got an email two weeks later saying the guy got the job.