Three for a Rupee

 Three for a Rupee

Here Comes That Rainbow Again

I am a feel-good guy.

Nothing makes me happier than hearing that good people are doing well in life. Give me stories of kindness being rewarded over stories of revenge any day.

One of my favorite real-life stories is about Cristiano Ronaldo.

As a young boy at Sporting CP's academy in Lisbon, Portugal, Ronaldo and his friends often went hungry. Across the road was a McDonald's where, at closing time, employees would quietly hand the boys leftover burgers that would otherwise be thrown away. Years later, after becoming one of the greatest footballers the world has ever seen, Ronaldo publicly searched for the ladies who had shown him that kindness. One of them, Edna, was eventually found. Ronaldo invited her to his home, thanked her personally, and repaid a kindness he had carried in his heart for decades.

I absolutely love stories like that.

Whenever I hear one, I think of Kris Kristofferson's beautiful song, "Here Comes That Rainbow Again." If you've never heard it, I hope you'll listen to it after reading this.

It reminds me of my own rainbow.

Growing up, my older twin brothers, Godfrey and Godwin, and I lived in a hostel in a small little town in India.

Every month, the three of us together received an allowance of one rupee.

Since one rupee couldn't be divided equally, my brothers received 35 paise each, and I, being the youngest, happily accepted my 30 paise.

Not once did I think life was unfair.

Thirty paise could buy plenty of goodies in those days, and we thought we were rich.

Then one day, a brand-new bakery opened near our hostel.

Within days everyone was talking about one thing—their cream buns.

The smell drifting out of that bakery was irresistible. We counted the days until our next allowance.

Finally, the day arrived.

Clutching our precious coins, we rushed to the bakery.

My brother Godfrey proudly said,

"Three cream buns, please."

The baker smiled.

"That'll be one rupee and five paise."

Thirty-five paise each.

We froze.

We looked at one another.

We had exactly one rupee.

Five paise short.

It may sound like nothing today, but to three little boys, it felt like a fortune.

Without missing a beat, Godfrey looked at us and said,

"You guys have them. I don't really like sweets anyway."

He turned around and started walking away.

Now here's the funny part.

Godfrey was an amazing brother.

He was also a terrible liar.

The baker knew it.

Godwin knew it.

I knew it.

Nobody believed him.

But, Godwin and I cant like something that Godfrey doesn't like, so!

We quietly thanked the baker and started walking away.

Then came my rainbow.

The baker called out,

"Hey boys... wait!"

We turned around.

With a smile he said,

"From today... three cream buns for one rupee."

Just like that.

And suddenly...

Godfrey discovered he had the sweetest tooth in the world!

Today, whenever I think about that afternoon, I smile...

...and then I quietly miss my beloved brother, Godfrey, who is no longer with us.

What I wouldn't give to hear him tell that little lie just one more time.

I don't know what those five paise cost the baker.

But I know what they gave us.

He protected the dignity of three little boys.

He allowed an older brother to remain a hero.

He showed us that kindness doesn't have to be loud to change someone's life.

Years later, after I was married and blessed with two wonderful daughters, I returned to that same town.

I wasn't looking for a cream bun.

I was looking for the baker.

I wanted to shake his hand.

I wanted him to meet my ladies.

We wanted to thank him.

Instead...

The bakery was gone.

The building had disappeared.

No one even remembered there had once been a bakery there.

I drove away disappointed...

...but grateful.

Wherever that baker is today, I pray God blessed him beyond measure.

I hope his bakery flourished.

I hope he built a wonderful life for himself and his family.

And I hope he continued creating little rainbows for countless others, just as he did for three little boys one afternoon.

Since then, I've been blessed to travel the world.

I've enjoyed pastries from Poilâne in Paris, Zeit für Brot in Berlin, St. JOHN Bakery in London, Roselle Desserts in Toronto, Tartine in San Francisco, Levain Bakery in New York, and Porto's Bakery in my hometown of Los Angeles.

They're all exceptional.

But none of them...

Not one...

...comes close to those three for a rupee cream buns that afternoon shared by three little boys.

Some memories are baked into your heart forever.

Period.

Because the secret ingredient wasn't cream.

It was kindness.

As Kris Kristofferson wrote,

"Ain't it just like humans... here comes that rainbow again."

I can never end a blog like this without mentioning my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

He taught us:

"Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me."
— Matthew 25:40

That baker probably thought he was giving three little boys five paise.

I believe he was serving Jesus.

May we all become somebody else's rainbow!