During the next couple of weeks, I rode that same bus to work. There were several special-needs adults who took this particular bus every day. I talked with and got to know many who sat in the front, and I continued to observe the man in the back, sharply dressed and using a cane.

His appearance wasn’t what continued to draw my attention to him, but rather that he was always kind to people around him. I noticed on a couple of instances, one of the men from the special-needs group seemed to be a bit short of cash. This man never refused him and handed him a $5 bill each time.

There was another passenger who always sat looking downward, chin glued to her chest. This man always said good morning to her and touched her shoulder gently. The conversation this day went a little longer than usual. He asked her questions and teased her a bit. All of the sudden her head came up as she laughed, and I saw the most beautiful blue eyes I’d ever seen. It was a moment I’ll never forget.

That night when I got home, I felt led to write a note to this man:

“Kindnesses are like lost angels’ songs that find their way to earth.” I tacked on a personal note thanking him for his kindness to that woman with the beautiful blue eyes and that his kindness had not gone unnoticed.

I handed him the note on the back of my business card. Within a few hours I received a fax from this man I now knew as Gary.

We started talking via phone, then dinner. It was clear to me from our first meeting that God had something in store for this man who showed kindness to so many.

Through the course of our friendship, I learned that Gary had a secret. Not important what it was, but God was about to meet Gary in a very special way.

Shortly after Gary accepted Jesus, some wonderful things started to happen for him and through him. I witnessed the restoration of his relationship with his daughter and many family members.

My love for him grew, as I watched him grow. He had a knack for making everyone around him feel special. He had such a gift of encouragement.

I loved it when he would call and say, “Let’s go to dinner,” or “Let’s go for coffee.” He always brought a bone for my dog. He had a wonderful sense of humor, and we laughed a lot.

Gary called early one evening and said he wanted to come by. When he pulled up outside on his motorcycle, I knew immediately something was wrong. He shared with me that he had cancer.

The next year and a half he battled and eventually lost the fight. It was the hardest experience of my life to sit back helplessly and watch him die.

As I reflect this month on love and relationships, I miss Gary. I treasure every memory and the hope that I have to see him again in Heaven with Jesus.

May God bless each of you who have lost someone you love.