My name is Lisa Fandrich, and I live in Phoenix, Arizona. For months, I would catch sight of a man named Paul standing faithfully at the corner of Cactus and 32nd Street, night after night. With his walker by his side and a wheelchair close behind, he crossed the Interstate 51 overpass just to sell a few copper coins. The image often brought me to tears — so much so that I sometimes chose another way home. 💔

One evening, I could no longer just pass him by. I pulled over with two bottles of water and $10 in hand, determined to finally meet him. That night, I learned Paul’s story. He arrived in Arizona 37 years ago. He and his wife — his partner of 54 years — live on nothing but Social Security. Yet each evening, no matter the blistering Phoenix heat, Paul makes his journey to that corner. Not for himself, but for her. Every coin he sells is a quiet act of love. 👫❤️

When I told him I had been worried about him, his answer was simple, steady, and filled with faith: “God watches out for me.” 🙏 His favorite coins — the two he showed me with a smile — are now mine. He even let me take his picture, a memory I’ll treasure forever.

That night, I didn’t just leave with coins. I left with Paul’s story, his strength, and the reminder that love endures even in the smallest, hardest corners of life. 🕊️✨

If you ever find yourself near Cactus and 32nd, stop and meet him. Shake his hand. Hear his story. You’ll walk away, as I did, with more than just a token — you’ll walk away with your heart changed. 💖🌟