Abigail placed down her romance novel and looked out the window. Another rainy day in the city, she thought, as always.

    A light tap came from her door and she heard her younger sister, Raegan, ask, "When are you coming out? It is almost time. If you don't come out soon then I am going to tell Stacey that you are reading her romance novels."

    "Alright, alright," Abigail said quickly. The last thing she needed was her older sister barging into her room and demanding her book back. 

    Raegan left and Abigail snuck the book under her pillow, making a solemn promise to read the book that night.

    She unlocked her door and raced down the stairs of their apartment building into their kitchen. 

    Raegan was waiting for her there, tapping her nails

nervously on the spotless countertop.

    "Okay, Mum and Dad are out of town for a week and we are going to have to run the café for them," Raegan said, her face turning pale white.

    "Rae," Abigail said, placing a hand on top of her sister's, "Me and Stacey can handle the café. You don't have to help."

    "No, no," Raegan said, her face stern. "I am sixteen and I already called off work. It is too late to turn back now."

    "Okay then. The café opens in an hour. We need to heat the stove and kettle."

    They started busily and as Abigail was placing out clean plates, Raegan asked, "Soooo. What is happening in your 

little novel?"

    Abigail shrugged. She pulled out sparkling silverware as Raegan tried again, "Don't you think that you're too obsessed

with romance and . . . novels?"

    "No, I just enjoy reading them," she answered. That was true, but she had more reason than just enjoying them.

    Ever since seeing her Mum and Dad's wedding picture she had been dreaming of love. So she read novels to help her understand what love was. 

    And the more she read, the more she enjoyed it. She guessed that she had fallen in love with love. 

    She passed three white tablecloths to Raegan who left the room to set the tables outside.

    But no matter how much she loved it, she had never found anyone to share it with. Sure she had had boyfriends, but none of that seemed like real love to her.

    A tall girl marched down the stairs, interrupting her thoughts. Stacey came over to her and stared at the clock.

    "8:24," she said. "Breakfast starts in 36 minutes. Get the tea ready, Abby. I'll go check on Rae."

    Stacey left and Abigail went to boil some water in their large kettle.

    The clock soon hit 9:00 and Abigail turned on the open sign. She changed into her waitress outfit and picked up a menu.

    The day passed by quickly. Nothing exciting happened except Raegan slipping on the floor and spilling coffee all

over her waitress outfit. But as noon rolled around and the customers began to dwindle, one last customer entered the shop.

    He was an old man accompanied by a handsome youth.

    Raegan was going crazy in the kitchen, blabbing about how cute the younger one was. Stacey just rolled her eyes as she prepared their order. 

    After it was finished, Stacey handed the two plates of the breakfast bake to Abigail. 

    "Ohhh!" Raegan said, stopping Abigail at the door and almost making her fall. "Let me serve their food, please?"

    "No," Stacey said sternly. "You will probably just get all day-dreamy and spill all this as well."

    Raegan looked resentful, but let Abigail pass.

    Abigail walked through the now empty tables toward one of their booths where the man and youth sat. 

    She placed their meals in front of them and the old man smiled up at her.

    "Thank you," he said, holding out a twenty dollar bill.

    "Oh, I can get you some change for that," Abigail said immediately, thinking that the man was going to pay for his meal that way.

    "No," the old man said kindly, puling out a credit card. "This is to pay for the meal. This," he trust the twenty into her hand, "is just for you. A tip."

    "O-Oh," Abigail stuttered, stunned. "Okay. Well, thank you sir."

    She took the credit card from him and rushed to the kitchen.

    Raegan's mouth dropped open once she saw the twenty and Abigail explained what happened.

    Stacey walked forward and sais, "So what, a nice old man gave you a tip? I get tips all the time." She took the credit card and brought it to their register.

    "Twenty dollars," Raegan repeated. "Oh, did you say hi to the cute guy? See how I rhymed?"

    "No, I didn't have time. Besides, he isn't that cute once you see him more clearly," Abigail said as Stacey walked back and gave her the credit card.

    She walked back to the old man's table and gave it back to him. He smiled up at her and she smiled back. 

    After they had finished, she went back to collect their plates.

    As she did so, she saw the old man leaving the building. 

    He turned and said to her, "Thank you. The meal was great. God bless."

    She waved as he left and picked up the plates. Walking back to the kitchen she thought about what had happened. The old man had blessed her and had been so kind to her. How could she show that same love? Love, she thought. Is there more to it than romance?

    That night, she finished another chapter of her novel, but something felt different about it. After her experience with the old man today, she felt like there was definitely more. The man had said "God bless" once he left, she thought. Does this "God" have anything to do with the way he acted toward a complete  

stranger?

    Abigail went to bed that night feeling strange, confused, but curious.

    The next few days were much like the first. Their parents were still gone and they served their customers as usual. Every day, around noon, the old man would come through with the youth and Abigail would serve them. She soon became his friend and found out his name, Jacob, and the youth with him was his grandson, Jon. 

    Jacob was always smiling and thanking her and she replied back kindly as well.

    One day, around the same time, Jacob came for his meal. He beamed with pleasure as she asked for their order.

    They ordered their usual and she left, feeling happy. Ever since meeting Jacob, life seemed lovely and more meaningful and she wanted to give it more purpose. 

    As she served their meals, Jacob again pulled something out of his pocket. But it wasn't a twenty dollar bill, or any bill for that matter. It was a small, black book inscribed with the words "Holy Bible".

    "I want you to have this," he said. "It was my wife's and I know that she would have wanted you to have it as well."

    She took the small book and peered at it curiously. .

    "Read 1 John chapter 4, verse 19," Jacob said simply, then left.

    That night, instead of reading another chapter of her novel, Abigail opened the small book and, though it took some time,