Weeks turned into months. Seasons changed. The package became a fading memory. Occasionally, I’d remember the woman and wonder if the clothes ever made it to her—or if the whole thing had been a mistake.
But each time the doubt crept in, I brushed it aside. It doesn’t matter, I reminded myself. If someone needed them, they got them. That’s all that counts.
And then, nearly a year later, something arrived at my door.
An Unexpected Package
It was a small box. No return address I recognized. I opened it with curiosity and immediately saw a handwritten letter tucked inside—delicate cursive on simple paper. Underneath were several photos.
I sat down and began to read.
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