I shook my head and allowed myself a small smile.

“I’m here to present you with this check,” I said, “from the J.O.S.H.U.A. Foundation to Transition Resources in the amount of $300,000.”

I held out the check, and neither of them moved for a moment. Then suddenly they began jumping up and down and hugging each other and screaming and cheering and embracing me. It was one of the more jubilant reactions I had gotten in the last few months, and I allowed myself to relax and go with it, silently thanking the Lord for good people like these, people who had a gift for taking God’s resources and using them in wonderful ways.

“We can buy a truck,” the son said. “That’ll cut our moving costs by 38 percent!”

“We can do a lot more than that,” the mother said, counting off on her fingers the plans they had itemized in their grant proposal. “Extended counseling, bigger facilities, more caregivers…”

They listed ideas for the money, lobbing them back and forth like a tennis ball. They asked if they should call the local newspaper to have a photographer and a reporter record this event. I told them no, that our foundation preferred to do things in a more discreet manner.

“So what was it about our little company that caught your eye?” the mother asked, finally settling down into her chair and pausing to catch her breath. “We didn’t think we stood a chance. We just did the paperwork and sent it out on faith.”

I took a deep breath, wondering how I could ever explain the way our foundation worked. I wasn’t exactly sure myself what the selection process was. I only knew how my part of it worked: I received a sealed packet from my philanthropist boss, a packet full of information about an organization or business to which he would like to make a donation. It was my job to verify the integrity of the organization as thoroughly as possible. Sometimes that meant digging around a little, examining records, talking to people—occasionally even posing as a client or infiltrating the ranks as an employee. My eclectic employment history as a private investigator and then an attorney had trained me well for my job, and I was very good at what I did. When my research was finished, I was the one who gave the red or green light, and thus far the boss had always relied completely on my recommendation. If I said the place was good, then he would commission me to write and deliver a check for amounts ranging as high as a million dollars.

The amazing part was that my boss stayed out of the picture, remaining completely anonymous. He kept such a low profile, in fact, that even I didn’t know much about him beyond the basic facts. Tom and I had spoken on the phone hundreds of times, but we had never met face-to-face, nor did we have a need to. I left him to his privacy.