"Hi," I said, "you know, we give out food. What’s your name? Are you Jewish?"

The electrician who had repaired my light fixture was on his way out when he said, “Do you want to hear an amazing Hashgachah pratis story?”

“Sure,” I replied. I’m always ready to hear a story (and I also know that when an electrician comes to your house, you act gracious and friendly — you may need him again!).

The electrician needed no more prompting, and launched into his story.

“So, you know that I volunteer distributing meals,” he continued.

I hadn’t known, but I was duly impressed.

“One of my regulars lives in the basement of an apartment building. One day, as I dropped off the box, she told me that someone new had moved in upstairs. Just then a rather bedraggled young woman walked by.

“‘Hi,’ I said, ‘you know, we give out food. What’s your name? Are you Jewish?’

“‘No, I’m not, and I don’t need anything,’ she replied belligerently.

“I got the hint. ‘Okay, sure. Have a great day,’ I said, and left.

“It was about two weeks later and I stopped at the 7-Eleven before making my meal deliveries to pick up a soda that one of my regulars really appreciated. I was surprised to find the manager blocking the door.

“ ‘Sorry, we’re closed, we’re waiting for the police,’ the manager said.  ‘She just tried shoplifting here,’ he went on, gesturing in someone’s direction.

“I looked, and was surprised to see the highly unfriendly new resident of the apartment building.

“I convinced the manager to give me the soda, and when I paid him, I left him a few extra dollars to cover whatever she had taken. As I left, I passed the girl.

“ ‘The police are going to come soon. Why’re you hanging around here?’ I asked her. ‘I covered the tab, and I guess you must be hungry if you were shoplifting food. Here’s ten bucks, go get yourself some food,’ I said, handing her some money, and turning to get back to my car.

“ ‘Yasher koach,’ I heard a quiet voice behind me say.