By the time I pulled into the McDonald’s parking lot, the day had drained everything from me. I just wanted a quiet corner, a warm meal, and a few minutes alone with my thoughts. The restaurant buzzed with its usual mix of chatter and background noise, but one scene cut through it all. A tired mother stood at the counter with her little girl, their clothes clean but worn, their bodies carrying the weight of a long week. When the child softly asked for a Happy Meal — the one with the toy — her mother knelt and whispered something that dimmed the girl’s smile. There was no tantrum, no fuss, just a small nod of acceptance that hurt more to witness than any tears could have.Continue reading…
