Photo/Illutration The envelope that contained 100,000 yen in cash and a letter from an anonymous contributor (Hwang Chul)

NAGOYA--One person’s 100,000-yen ($930) government cash handout proved to be a lifeline for another struggling to maintain a charitable business. And the timing could not have been better.

Hidekazu Sato had a rough time of things in spring.

A thief broke into his restaurant in mid-March and stole a donation box containing 50,000 yen. The cash was donated by customers wanting to help Sato run his eatery for the disadvantaged.

The 52-year-old runs the cafeteria-style restaurant in the city's Nakamura Ward. It is nicknamed "50-yen Onigiri Shokudo" because its "onigiri" rice balls, side dishes and all other food items cost just 50 yen each.

He opened it in August 2016 to provide a place for anyone, but especially those who are hard up, to enjoy affordable and tasty meals without having to count the pennies. Sato knows firsthand what it is like to be down and out as he lived on the streets for a while in his 30s.

Sato was dismayed at being singled out when there were so many rich pickings in the neighborhood.

But he didn't get angry. The thief broke into the cafeteria using brute force to smash the glass on the entrance door. It seemed so amateurish.

Sato assumed that whoever did it must have been desperate, struggling to make ends meet due to the tough economic times brought on by the new coronavirus crisis.

The next month, Sato's cafeteria felt the effects of the pandemic.

There was a sudden surge of customers asking for takeouts as people began eating at home with their children because of school closures. Then, seeing his cafeteria packed to the rafters with customers, Sato became worried.

He feared his eatery could become an infection ground. After Sato temporarily closed it in mid-April, he lost his income and had to dip into his savings.

He reopened on a shoestring budget weeks later, on May 11. He was just scraping by, using the day's proceeds to buy ingredients for the next day's meals.

Still, Sato stayed positive.

"Unemployment is rising,” he said to himself. “This cafeteria will be needed more than ever."

Then, on June 1, he found an unaddressed envelope in the restaurant’s mailbox that morning.

It contained a smaller envelope with a message that read, "I'd be happy if this could be of help."

There was 100,000 yen in cash and an anonymous letter.

"Your cafeteria is needed now more than ever,” it said.

“I'd like to donate my (coronavirus-related) cash handout (from the central government). This way, I think I can also help many other people through your cafeteria. Take care of yourself, and I wish you all the best."

The restaurant had attracted a wide variety of customers over the past four years: elderly people and youth who live alone, non-Japanese residents with small children and people with disabilities. Sato was overwhelmed by the mysterious donor's generosity.

"There was someone else who was kind enough to understand my hope of creating 'a place where anyone can enjoy meals,'" he said.

Sato said his business managed to survive because of the support shown by customers over the years.

One person routinely attends a monthly fund-raising party to make up for slumping sales. Another sends various food ingredients from afar, even though Sato is not personally acquainted with the contributor. One person even volunteers to fill in for Sato before working their normal job at night.

"I'm just given a role to make onigiri balls, encouraged by them," Sato said.

"I don't know who kindly donated the 100,000 yen. But I'd like to tell him or her: You are also an essential part of this cafeteria."