She told us the note meant more than she could put into words.
Quietly, she shared that she had been working double shifts while caring for a sick family member, and the pressure had finally overwhelmed her.
On the drive home, my wife admitted she had been sure I went back inside to file a complaint. I told her that sometimes people don’t need punishment — they need compassion.
A small act can’t remove someone’s burdens, but it can make them feel less alone. That night reminded both of us how easily we judge a single moment without knowing the story behind it.
As we pulled into our driveway, my wife squeezed my hand and whispered, “I’m glad you handled it that way.”
And truthfully… so was I.