This happened to a friend of mine.

He stopped at Wolf Camera on 14th Street to drool over the new Canon 1Ds Mark II digital camera. Pulling out of the parking lot, an African American man knocked on his window. Not an unusual occurrence in downtown Atlanta, homeless people, hookers and people in real need can be pretty assertive asking for help or money. He opened the window. The man stuck his hand in, and my friend shook it.

Quickly, he blurted that he was a youth minister with the 16th Street Baptist Church in Birmingham. "You know the church, I'm sure," he said. When my friend didn't respond, he continued. "It's the church where the bombings happened . . ."

A light bulb went off in my friend's head . . . Ah, four young girls were killed tragically in the 60's when a bomb exploded at the church.

"I was wondering if you have AAA and could help us." My friend lied, and said he didn't have AAA. "Do you know anyone who has AAA here?"

"Sorry," the friend said. "I'm not from around here." Another lie. He lived a few blocks away for more than 10 years.

The minister looked heart-broken. "Okay," he said. "Bless you," he said as he began to walk away.

Now, my friend was intrigued. Either this guy was really good at panhandling, or something was wrong. He hadn't asked for money.

"What's the problem," he asked. "I've got a boys' basketball team in a broken-down bus on I-75 up at the Northside exit . . .," he paused.

"Yes," my friend still thought he was being hustled.

"The gas station up there needs $168 to tow us in and fix the bus. I've only got $132 cash. I'll give that cash to you if I could use your AAA card to get us towed in -- but you don't have one, right?"

My friend nodded. "Right."

"Did you call your church," he said. "Yes, and I called a church here, but no one's around," the minister said.

"I don't have a AAA card," my friend lied again. "But I've got some money."

"No, thanks, I don't want your money," he smiled. "I can't pay you back. But bless you for offering."

"Listen, here's $40," my friend said. "Get the bus towed and get the kids home."

He blessed him again, thanked him profusely, and walked toward the gas station. Pulling out of the parking lot, my friend thought, "I've been had. That guy was good. He doesn't have kids on the road in a broken-down bus."

Fortunately for him, his next thought was:

So, what! It felt good to think that I was helping someone else whether I was or not. I could always call the 16th Street Baptist Church and ask them if their youth minister was broken down on the road in Atlanta, but what's the point? If I confirmed that I'd been snookered, I would feel stupid. If I confirmed that he was the youth minister and in need, I would have been gloating about my generosity.

Yet, he felt good helping someone in need, whatever the need. That was the point.

My favorite book of the moment is a business relationship book called Never Eat Alone. Author Keith Ferrazzi gives the secret to business success right up front on page 14 in a chapter entitled "Don't Keep Score":

"So you want the inside scoop," I responded (to college students). "Fair enough. I'll sum up the key to success in one world: generosity. . ."

"It's a constant process of giving and receiving -- of asking for and offering help. By putting people in contact with one another, by giving your time and expertise and sharing them freely, the pie gets bigger for everyone."

My friend was learning this lesson that day in Wolf Camera's parking lot.