It was a rainy night
At a bus station in a small town,
I watched a young girl weeping,
As her baggage was taken down.

It seems she'd lost her ticket
Changing buses in the night.
She begged him not to leave her there,
With no sign of help in sight.

The bus driver had a face of stone
And his heart was surly the same.
"Losing your ticket's like losing cash money"
He said and left her in the rain.

Then an old Indian man stood up,
And blocked the drivers way
And would not let him pass before
He said what he had to say.

"How can you leave that girl out there,
Have you no God to fear?
You know she had a ticket,
You can't just leave her here.
You can't put her out in a city,
Where she doesn't have a friend.
You will meet your schedule,
But she might meet her end".

The driver showed no sign
That he'd heard or cared
About the young girl's problem
Or how her travels fared.

 So the old Indian said,
"For her fare I'll pay.
I'll give her a little money
To help her on her way."

He went and bought the ticket,
Then helped her to her place
And helped her put her baggage
In the overhead luggage space.

"How can I repay, she said,
The kindness you've shown tonight?
We're strangers who won't meet again,
A mere Thank you doesn't seem right."
He said,
"What goes around,
comes around,

This I've learned with time...
What you give,
you always get back,
What you sow,
you reap in kind.
Always be helpful to others
And give what you can spare,
For by being kind to strangers,

We help Angels unawares."

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