It told her to get rid of her price board and cash register and let customers decide how much to pay for their food.

"I knew I needed to go to donations," she says, smiling, still seeming somewhat astonished herself as she explains the prompting. "I think we all have that ability" to hear a prompting from a higher source. "But I don't think we listen to it."

Yet listen she did.

Even so, it was no small leap of faith to follow through on the impression.

"I closed my clinic a split second before God just kicked me off the ledge. It was scary," she said. "People say you're so brave and just an inspiration, but it wasn't my idea."

Still, it was her choice. Customers pay by conscience. A simple brown basket near the water jug serves as the cash collection point.

It's been sitting there since last spring, and her cafe still has no name on the window, nor does she do any kind of advertising. Her clientele has simply grown by word of mouth. Located at 41 S. 300 East, customers find her by looking for the building with a flag of the globe hanging near the window and a hand-painted "cafe open" sandwich board sitting on the curb outside.

Business types always wonder how she's stayed afloat, but Cerreta doesn't hesitate to explain that people are fair, no matter what their circumstance, when they believe you're trying to do good by them.

Her clientele ranges from homeless people, who panhandle for the money they put in her basket for coffee and a bit of bread, to students, nearby residents, attorneys and physicians.

"That's the beauty of it. And everybody is fair. It doesn't matter if they're making $4,000, $40,000 or $400,000, that's the point. They put a fair price" on what they eat, she says.

And because customers choose their own portions of everything on the plate, there's very little waste.

"They go away satisfied without feeling guilty."

Loyal customers are her best advertising, often come accompanied by a friend who "heard so much about this place I had to see it for myself." As a result, she's made enough money not only to keep it open but to hire four full-time employees. Dishwashers are often students, who trade labor for their meals, or homeless people who help her keep up the yard outside the building and take out the trash.

She plans to plant a garden to grow her own fresh produce next spring and knows she won't have to spend much time there because there will always be those looking to trade work for food. Cerreta is always happy to oblige.