It was a busy afternoon at the local supermarket. Sarah, a young cashier who had been working there for a couple of years, was manning her register with her usual impatient demeanor. She prided herself on being efficient, but deep down, she often judged customers based on their appearance.
An elderly man shuffled up to her checkout line. His clothes were tattered and dirty—worn-out orange pants with holes, a faded hoodie covered in stains, and boots that had seen better days. He looked like he hadn’t had a proper meal or shower in weeks. In his hands, he held a small loaf of bread and a bottle of water. He placed them carefully on the conveyor belt and began counting out loose change from his pocket: a handful of coins that barely amounted to the total.
Sarah scanned the items and announced the price with a sigh. “$4.87,” she said curtly, eyeing him with disdain.
The man nodded silently and started placing the coins one by one on the counter—pennies, nickels, dimes—until he reached the exact amount.