I hesitated. Doubt crept in, as it often does. But something about her message felt sincere. I thought about how hard it is to ask for help, especially when you’re a parent trying to stay strong. So I told her not to worry about shipping. I carefully packed the clothes and sent them off, expecting nothing in return. Months passed, and life moved forward.
Then nearly a year later, a small package arrived at my door. Inside was a handwritten letter and a few photos. The woman explained how that box had arrived during one of the hardest moments of her life and reminded her that kindness still existed. The photos showed her little girl smiling in clothes I remembered folding. Seeing that joy made something settle deep in my heart. It wasn’t pride—it was perspective. I learned that small kindnesses matter more than we realize. Even when we don’t see the outcome, compassion can quietly change someone’s world. And sometimes, if we’re lucky, it changes ours too.
