I make my way down the three chilly blocks to an old diner on Commercial Street. I am meeting a new friend for lunch. I" ve never been here before; this is not my part of town. And so I arrive early, to sit in an old wooden booth and learn what I can about the place. They call it Katie" s Kitchen. One hundred years ago, it was a bar. The barstools remain, but through community donations, it" s now a respectable restaurant. The hostess, casher, and waiters are residents of a nearby hotel for the transient and unemployed and work here to gain dignity and job skills. Both the hotel and restaurant are run by Sister L, a nun with a heart and a great deal of business sense. My new friend arrives. He works down the street, in a clinic for indigent(贫穷的)persons; he knows these people. The workers and many of the s seem to know him too, for I see warmth and proud smiles on their faces as he greets them. Behind him, a few nameless souls wander in from the street in a swirl of December wind. I focus on our waitress. A pretty girl of perhaps 18 years, she is all smiles and grace. I wonder for a moment why she" s here—what her story is; what her dreams are; whether she is raising children on her own. But I cannot hold the thought, for she reminds me of another waitress at my favorite coffee shop—a college student with a bright future. Some time later, I finish my soup and sandwich—a good meal made better because of the smile of the girl who served it. I wipe my mouth and go to pay. Eight dollars and sixty-four cents, for two. To our embarrassment, my friend and I discover that neither of us has cash, and my credit card is not good here. We sheepishly approach Sister L, who smiles and takes my bill. "It" s o-kay," she says. "We"ll buy your lunch. It"ll be our pleasure. Slowly, I leave the world of the diner. Back at the hospital where I work, my boss laments our financial woes. "We" re really tight," he says. "The executive committee tells me we may not even have enough money to build the new critical care wing this year. " He frowns, hesitates, then adds, " It" s flu season, though, and perhaps by seeing patients in person rather than treating so many over the phone, we" 11 recoup some of our losses. " It" s budget time, and I know that this means our gratis(免费的)fitness center memberships may be cancelled. We"re in a tough bind. Three streets away, a tattered man in a throwaway overcoat sits shivering in the diner. Sister L slowly fills his cup full of hot coffee. Holding the cup with trembling hands, he stares deeply into its dark center. There is healing in its rising steam. From the lunch bill to the hot coffee, we can see______.