Everything softened after that. The police left, I apologized, and Gerry proudly showed me the scrapbook they’d been working on. In the weeks that followed, Ms. Abby slowly stepped back into the world — gardening, chatting with neighbors, even sharing cookies with other kids. She wasn’t suddenly outgoing, but she wasn’t hidden anymore. And as I watched my son help her rediscover a little joy, I realized something important: sometimes children see the good in people long before adults allow themselves to.
