A homeless guy
This story isn’t about myself – it’s about my father, who by the way has no idea what “The Secret” is.
A couple of years ago my father was reading an article about this homeless guy named Tobias, who desperately wanted to write poems. Or get people to see them, really. My father was kind of fascinated by his work, and was thinking he’d give him a call someday in the future, maybe to publish him or just help him.
Two days later, while travelling to work on the train, he was reading the same article again, and in there was a passenger next to him who was a man in his middle age. The middle-aged man leaned a bit towards him and asked, “Have you read the poems written by the homeless guy Tobias?” My father said, “Actually I have, I was planning on giving him a call later.” “That’s nice, because I’m Tobias,” the passenger next to him said.
They decided to have a meeting the day after at my father’s office, since Tobias didn’t have a place to offer. My father came up with this plan – Tobias would write one poem for every meeting they had, and after a year they had a whole collection which they turned into a book. I think they sold about 10,000 examples.
Unfortunately Tobias died by an overdose about a year ago. But it’s still a great story.