There was no guilt, no desperation in her words—just honesty. I thought about how hard it can be to ask for help. How heavy it feels to admit you’re struggling, especially as a parent. And I remembered times in my own life when things were tight—when asking for a small favor felt like asking for the moon.
So, I made a choice. I messaged her back and told her not to worry about shipping costs. I’d take care of everything. I packed the clothes gently, wrapping them as if they were going to someone I knew. I included a small note: “I hope these bring some comfort and joy.”
Then I sent the box on its way.
I didn’t expect anything in return. Not even a thank-you.
Time Passed. Life Moved On.
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