A Wedding, A Woman, And The Unexpected Gift

We talked for nearly an hour. Widowed young. Two jobs. No frills. All love.
“He didn’t know how I’d manage,” she said, touching her hair like she was still surprised it looked lovely. “When he saw me, he cried. Said, ‘She deserves this day too.’”

Later, her cousin Tomas approached.
“Do you ever do home visits?” he asked. “Mirela’s neighbor, Eliza… she lost her husband. Hasn’t left the house in weeks.”

I went the next morning. Her home was quiet, a little dusty, filled with photos and a soft, lingering ache. I didn’t pry. I washed and blew out her hair, warmed her skin with cream, gave her lashes back to her face.
She looked in the mirror and whispered, “I forgot what I looked like.”
We cried. Then laughed at the absurdity of crying over mascara.

That was the beginning. I started a monthly Give Back Day—free services for seniors, single parents, anyone whose budget said “not today” while their spirit begged otherwise. I didn’t post about it. Word just traveled.

A 78-year-old asked me to tame his beard for his first date in a decade.
A mom with three little ones finally got a haircut.
A teen from a group home got prom lashes she could flutter at the world.

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