At the bus stop one morning, I noticed a little girl wearing sneakers in the freezing cold. Her shoes were tattered, and she kept shifting her feet like she was trying to warm them up.
I recognized her from my son’s school, so I quietly called the office later and asked about her. Turns out, her family was struggling, and warm clothes weren’t a priority over food.
That afternoon, I bought a pair of cozy winter boots and handed them to the school counselor. The next morning, I saw her at the bus stop again—this time, with warm, fuzzy boots on her feet and the biggest smile on her face.
She didn’t know where they came from, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that she was warm.
