The Eye That Sees

A Story by Frank Sumera

The old man sat on the park bench, watching the world move in hurried steps. He had seen it all—trends, technology, and the quiet erosion of things that once mattered. The sun hung low in the sky, golden light spilling over the city like a silent blessing.

A young man approached, holding his phone up, narrating his good deed. “Hey guys, today I’m giving this homeless man a meal,” he said, angling the camera toward a frail figure wrapped in a tattered coat. He handed over the sandwich, flashing a grin for his audience.

The old man sighed. “Would you have done it if no one was watching?”

The influencer lowered his phone, caught off guard. “What?”

“If there were no likes, no shares—would you still give?”

The young man hesitated. “Well… people need to see kindness to be inspired, right?”

The old man nodded. “But the Eye that truly matters already sees.” He tapped his temple, then pointed to the sky. “The Eye of Providence. The Father sees what is done in secret, and that is where true reward lies.”

The young man frowned. “But if I don’t show it, how will people know I’m doing good?”

The old man chuckled. “The greatest acts of love are often invisible. A prayer whispered for a stranger. A sacrifice no one knows about. A kindness done without expectation. That is how you reach your full potential—not through the eyes of men, but through the eyes of God.”

The wind stirred, rustling the trees. The young man looked down at his phone, then back at the old man. Slowly, he put the device away.

“Maybe next time, I’ll just… do it.”

The old man smiled. “Then you will be seen more clearly than ever before.”

And with that, he stood, walking into the fading light, as if he had never been there at all.