One morning in Philadelphia, the sun shone bright through all the thick jungles and the tall churches. John, 6, wearing the worn-out clothes, walked from afar, his dark small hands holding a piece of stolen bread. John stopped for a moment at the entrance to the sacred church and then left tightlyholding the bread, He was an orphan , whose parents were killed in World War Illeaving him alonein the orphanage for five years, Like many children in the orphanage, he had a lot of free time. Mostly no one took care of them, so they had to learn how to steal those they wanted. John believed the existence of God, so every Sunday morning in any case be would go to the cburch to have a look and listen to those people singing inside or reciting the Bible.He felt only at this moment he was the child of God and so close to God. But he couldn'tenter because his clothes were so dirty. John himself knew it. John was quietly counting. This was his 45th Sunday at the entrance to the church. He stood on tiptoe for a while and walked away. As time passed, the pastor  noticed John and learned from others that he was thesmall boy who liked stealing things in the orphanages. On the 46th Sunday, the sun was shining and John came still holding a piece of bread with his dark small hands. When he just stood there, the pastor came out. He felt like running away, but he was carried by the pastor's friendly smile. The pastor walked up to his side, clearly seeing John's small hands tremble. "Are you John?" John didn't answer, but looked at the pastor and nodded. "Do you believe in God?" the pastor petted John on his head stained with dust. "Yes,l do!" This time John told him loudly. "So you believe in yourself?" John looked at the pastor, without a word. The pastor went on saying, "At the first sight of you, I find you're different from other  kids because you have a good heart." His face tunung red, John said timidly, "In fact, I'm a thief." With that, he loweredhis head. The pastor didn't speak, but held John's dark small hands, slowly opened them andput them against his wrinkled face. "Ah:" Just at the same time, John shouted and was about to take out his dark smallhands. Yet the pastor tightly held his small hands and spread them out in the sun. "Do you see, John?" "What?" "You're cupping the sunshine in your hands." John blankly looked at his hands: when did they become so beautiful? "In God's eyes, all cluldren are the same. When they are willing to spread out their hands to greet the sun, the sun will naturally shine on them. And you have two things more than they do. First is courage and the second is kindness." With that, the pastor led him into the church.      It was the first time that John went into this sacred place, and at this moment he  didn't feel inferior, but the unspeakable warmth. On that morning embracing the sunshine, John found himself again, along with the  confidence, satisfaction, happiness, dreams he had never had. Twenty years have passed. Now the boy who ever tightly held the bread with his dirt hands has been the most famous chefin   Philadelphia and made many popular dishes. Every Sunday morning, he would personally send the bread he baked to the orphanage. Those children who greeted him with cheers were used to consciously spreading their palms before they got the bread. Because they all knew when we are willing to spread out our hands to greet thesunshine, the sun will naturally shine on us. Why didn't John go inside whenever he went to the church?
He was frightened to be recognized by the pastor He was not welcomed by those singing in the church. He was ashamed of his dirty clothes and identity as a thief. He was left alone in the orphanage and nobody cared for him.