“Yes, Mommy! It was so yummy!”
Alice beamed.
After a week of it, I decided to test her
I kept my voice light.
“I didn’t pack chicken today, Alice. Now tell me the truth, sweetie.”
Her little face crumbled, and she burst into tears.
“There’s a man near school,” she sobbed. “He looks so hungry and so sad. I couldn’t eat while he had nothing.”
Her little face crumbled, and she burst into tears.
I pulled the car over.
My frustration dissolved into something warm and aching.
“You gave him your whole lunch?” I whispered.
“Every day,” she admitted, wiping her eyes. “Are you mad at me?”
I reached back and squeezed her small hand.
“You gave him your whole lunch?”
“No, baby. I’m proud of you.”
***
That evening, I told my husband, Wade, everything.
“She’s just like you,” he said, smiling over his coffee. “Too good for this world.”
