Arthur looked at the little girl for a long moment.
Her words stayed with him.
She wasn't asking for charity.
She simply believed fresh bread belonged to other people.
Without saying another word, Arthur turned toward the bread shelves.
He ignored the discounted basket filled with yesterday's loaves.
Instead, he chose the warmest loaf that had just come out of the oven.
Then he reached into the refrigerator.
He added butter.
A jar of strawberry jam.
A carton of fresh milk.
Finally, he placed two warm cinnamon rolls into the paper bag.
The sweet smell filled the bakery.
When he handed the bag across the counter, the little girl's eyes grew wide.
"Sir..."
"I can't pay for all of that."
Arthur smiled.
"I know."
Tears instantly filled her eyes.
She hugged the paper bag tightly against her chest as though she feared it might disappear.
Then she looked up and softly asked,
"Why would you do this for me?"
Arthur walked around the counter and knelt beside her.
His gentle voice barely rose above a whisper.
"Because no little girl should ever think she deserves old bread."
The child could no longer hold back her tears.
She nodded silently, unable to find the words to thank him.