There once was a poor man that walked by two small cottages one day; one red, and one blue. Both of the women that lived in either of the houses didn't have much money, since they had to give half of what they earned to the village president.
The woman in the red cottage, named Lucia, had a young son, and she very nearly starved, because she had small money to buy food, which she gave to her son. Lucia was boiling broth at the moment, and saw the poor man through her window. She didn't even check her satchel for some coins; instead she glanced at her thin stomach, and continued boiling broth; remembering to close the curtains.
Meanwhile, the woman in the blue cottage, named Moira, had no children, but a small dog that she fed diligently. Moira was sitting down on her wooden chair at the moment, with her dog on her lap. She heard a loud dragging noise coming from outside her door, and panicked. She wasn't sure if the village president was coming to collect his dues, or if it was one of those stray cats scratching at her door, so she opened the door timidly. There, she saw the poor man dragging his weather-beaten stick on the sand. Moira immediately took pity on him, and checked her satchel for coins. She found three bronze coins, not worth much, and ran outside bare-footed. Moira caught up to the man, grabbed his shriveled hand, and deposited the coins; giving him a quick smile before running back home.
Weak, but loud, the man yelled, "STOP, Moira."
Moira spun around, surprised. "How do you know my name?"
The poor man ignored the question, and came closer to Moira. He reached into his ragged pack, brought out 10 gold coins, and shoved them into Moira's hands. Moira gasped, only the president could have that much!
"Are you the village president in disguise?" Moira asked.
The supposedly poor man shook his head. "No, Moira. I was a stranger, supposedly poor, and you gave me more than half of your money. But your neighbor, Lucia, closed her curtains on me. You deserve this money more than I."
As the man walked away, he turned around one last time. "Say nothing about our encounter."
Moira nodded, awestruck, and pocketed the coins, now walking back to her house. When she closed the door to her blue house, she remembered that she forgot to say thank you.
"Alas!" She exclaimed. "Words will never say what he just did for me."
The moral of this story is that "It pays to be kind to strangers."
