This is Daniel. He sells the Big Issue outside Hillhead library. Each week, I buy him coffee and chat with him, sometimes paying for extras in advance.
Today, when I went to pay for my breakfast, I was told it was already paid for—by Daniel. He’d won £20 on a scratch card and decided to treat me. His face glowed as he explained how happy it made him to surprise me, his way of showing appreciation for the coffees and chats.
Daniel stands outside Hillhead library every week, selling the Big Issue. For those unfamiliar, the Big Issue is a magazine sold by people experiencing homelessness or housing insecurity—it’s not begging, it’s working. It’s dignity. It’s a way to earn money through honest effort rather than asking for handouts.
And every week, someone stops. Buys him coffee. Chats with him. Sometimes pays for extras in advance—enough for a few meals, enough to get through the week. That someone has been doing this for months, treating Daniel not as a charity case, but as a person. A friend.
Today, when that person went to pay for breakfast at a nearby café, they were told something unexpected: “It’s already paid for.”
By Daniel.
He’d won £20 on a scratch card. Twenty pounds. For someone experiencing homelessness, that’s significant. That’s food for days. That’s warmth. That’s security. But Daniel didn’t think about himself first. He thought about the person who had been buying him coffee, who had been chatting with him, who had been treating him like a human being when so many others walk past without making eye contact.
And he decided to treat them.
His face glowed as he explained how happy it made him to surprise them. How good it felt to give instead of receive. How much those weekly coffees and chats meant to him, and how this was his way of saying thank you.
This story is a reminder that generosity isn’t about how much you have—it’s about what you’re willing to give. Daniel didn’t have much. But what he had, he shared. Because someone had shown him kindness, and he wanted to return it.
It’s also a reminder that people experiencing homelessness are still people. They still have pride. They still want to contribute. They still feel joy when they’re able to do something kind for someone else. Daniel wasn’t defined by his circumstances—he was defined by his character. And his character said: when someone treats you with dignity, you treat them with gratitude.
The person who bought Daniel coffee every week wasn’t doing it for recognition or expecting anything in return. They were doing it because it’s the right thing to do. Because Daniel is a person who deserves to be seen, to be spoken to, to be treated with respect.
But Daniel saw it as more than that. He saw it as friendship. As connection. As something worth honoring. So when he won £20, he didn’t just think about what he could buy for himself—he thought about how he could surprise the person who had been surprising him.
And that’s beautiful. That’s humanity at its best. That’s what happens when we treat each other not as transactions, but as people.
Daniel’s face glowed. Because giving feels good. Because surprising someone feels good. Because being able to treat someone else, even when you have almost nothing, feels like power. Like dignity. Like proof that you matter.
And Daniel does matter. His story matters. The weekly coffees matter. The chats matter. The £20 scratch card matters. Because all of it is a reminder that kindness creates a cycle. You give, and eventually, in whatever way they can, people give back.
Not because they have to. But because they want to. Because that’s what friendship is.