A quiet young girl came into our small, simple flower shop one rainy afternoon, visibly shaken by the elements. Her hands were trembling severely from the outside cold, and her soft voice was barely above a whisper, adding to her delicate appearance. She looked directly at me and admitted immediately, “I don’t have nearly enough money for a purchase,” but then made a heartfelt request: “Could I please, just please, have one small flower for my mother’s grave?” Without a moment of hesitation or concern for the rules, I tied a perfect bundle of crisp white lilies together and gave them to her freely, without charge or question. She smiled brightly at the simple, unexpected gift.
After receiving the flowers, the girl reached into her purse and slowly pulled out an old, worn black pen instead of any money. “It’s truly all I can possibly give you in return for your generosity,” she said softly, handing it over to me. She explained that this cherished pen had written many important things in its long life, adding a hopeful prophecy: “One day, I promise It’ll write something truly good for you as well.” Unfortunately, my boss saw the entire compassionate exchange unfold. He was immediately enraged by my act of generosity and my failure to prioritize cold profit in the small shop.
My boss saw this transaction and immediately started shouting loudly across the shop floor, declaring vehemently that we absolutely do not “run a charity” here, creating a huge, embarrassing scene. He furiously fired me right there, on the spot, behind the counter, without any discussion or chance to explain myself. I quietly left the building without a single word of argument or protest against his rash decision. The special pen remained resting firmly in my hand, its unexpected weight felt oddly comforting despite the deep shock of my sudden dismissal. At that painful moment, I certainly didn’t realize the massive significance or the hidden meaning of the simple pen.
Two long months passed since the unexpected dismissal from the flower shop, and I was actively trying to move on with my life and find new employment. Then, someone suddenly knocked loudly at my door late one afternoon. I froze completely, shocked by the sound, when I opened it and saw the same girl standing directly in front of me on the porch. She had successfully asked around the local neighborhood and finally found my exact address through a persistent old coworker from the closed-off shop. Now, however, she looked completely different than before: she was elegant, calm, confident, and highly professional.
She smiled warmly, remembering me clearly, and immediately asked a very deliberate question: “Do you still have that special pen I gave you that day for the flowers?” I nodded, confirming that I had kept the pen safely, and instantly showed it to her. She then wordlessly handed me a crisp, white envelope and gave me a direct, firm instruction: “Please use that very pen to sign what’s inside for me.” Inside the envelope was a formal, substantial contract—an incredible job offer to manage a brand new, high-end flower boutique entirely under her name and full ownership. She then finally told me the surprising truth about who she truly was.
The girl finally explained that her recently passed mother had actually owned a vast, successful chain of floral stores across the entire country. After the mother passed away, the daughter initiated a private search and personal test. She desperately wanted to find one genuinely kind soul who still believed firmly in giving the gift of beauty freely, someone showing kindness when absolutely no one was watching. She had been testing many different people by only asking for a single, inexpensive flower. No one else had ever helped her, they all instantly refused, until I did. Today, I proudly run one of the most loved flower shops in the city, and that same black pen sits permanently on my desk, reminding me that kindness writes its own great future: one genuine act, one selfless choice, one big heart at a time.
