I was seven months pregnant, broke, and barely holding it together when I saw an old man at the grocery store counting crumpled bills. He chose dog food for his little terrier over his own meal. Something in me snapped, and I spent my last $20 to cover his groceries.
The next morning, I opened my door and froze. On my porch sat a crate of groceries, baby supplies, and diapers. At the curb was a new Subaru with a red bow on top. Inside an envelope was a letter from the man — Graham — explaining everything.
It wasn’t poverty. He was honoring his late wife’s tradition of testing kindness in strangers. He wrote: “You reminded me of Marietta’s heart. Now it’s my turn to take care of you.”
The car, insurance, and a year of prepaid groceries were mine. I thought I was helping him and his dog, but really, he gave me hope — proof that kindness always finds its way back.
