intention

At Albuquerque's Le Cafe Miche, a teenage boy and his girlfriend enjoyed a fancy Valentine's Day dinner. But when the check came, the teenage Don Juan realized he was $40 short.

This was in the late '90s.
The boy spoke to the restaurant's owner and chef, Claus Hjortkjaer. The kind Chef Claus took pity on the young man and gave him $40 from his own pocket. The boy paid his tab and left. Hjortkjaer never saw him again. Until now.
Last week, the mysterious diner returned to Hjortkjaer's newly reopened restaurant to pay off the debt—with interest. KOAT.com reports that the man walked in, asked to speak to Hjortkjaer, explained who he was and gave the generous chef a $100 bill.
"Sometimes it pays off to be a nice guy," Hjortkjaer told KOAT.com. "It made me feel good. I went and bought myself a bouquet of flowers."
Hjortkjaer never got the man's name, but the chef told KOAT.com he's welcome back to the restaurant for a glass of wine, on the house.

-krumboltz, mike. (2013, May 16).  http://news.yahoo.com/blogs/sideshow/man-returns-restaurant-pay-off-old-debt-195138682.html?vp=1

...this reminds me of my one of my favorite poems by Gary Soto

The first time I walked
With a girl, I was twelve,
Cold, and weighted down
With two oranges in my jacket.
December. Frost cracking
Beneath my steps, my breath
Before me, then gone,
As I walked toward
Her house, the one whose
Porch light burned yellow
Night and day, in any weather.
A dog barked at me, until
She came out pulling
At her gloves, face bright
With rouge. I smiled,
Touched her shoulder, and led
Her down the street, across
A used car lot and a line
Of newly planted trees,
Until we were breathing
Before a drugstore. We
Entered, the tiny bell
Bringing a saleslady
Down a narrow aisle of goods.
I turned to the candies
Tiered like bleachers,
And asked what she wanted -
Light in her eyes, a smile
Starting at the corners
Of her mouth. I fingered
A nickle in my pocket,
And when she lifted a chocolate
That cost a dime,
I didn’t say anything.
I took the nickle from
My pocket, then an orange,
And set them quietly on
The counter. When I looked up,
The lady’s eyes met mine,
And held them, knowing
Very well what it was all
About.

Outside,
A few cars hissing past,
Fog hanging like old
Coats between the trees.
I took my girl’s hand
In mine for two blocks,
Then released it to let
Her unwrap the chocolate.
I peeled my orange
That was so bright against
The gray of December
That, from some distance,
Someone might have thought
I was making a fire in my hands.