It was kind of a strange experience for me, most of all because it wasn't something I really thought out beforehand.

We were having dinner at the restaurant of one of my Bakery bread accounts, when my wife noticed the owner talking to someone at the table behind us. The man looked like the owner's brother, because of an obvious familial resemblance.

We asked him if that was his brother. "Yes," was the reply, and "He goes off to Iraq in 2 days, with the Army."

Crap! I thought. I bet this guy doesn't even have a good knife. He really needs one like my Dumpster Mutt. I was carrying my razor-sharp convex-edged Mutt in an Okuden sheath under my shirt tail. I asked. He didn't have a good knife. Probably didn't even occur to him that he needed one. Crap! I had better give him mine! I just had a STRONG gut feeling that he NEEDED my knife!

I gave it up. We all felt teary about it, probably because we felt it was more God's idea than mine. Got another one on the way already. I don't know if the knife will save a life or not. But I DO KNOW that every time he sees it, uses it, wonders about its' incredible strength, he will remember "someone I didn't even know gave me this knife when he heard I was going to Iraq."

Sorry if it sounds self-aggrandizing. It isn't meant to be. The strange part to me is the super-strong gut feeling I had that he NEEDED my knife.