“Please go eat,” she said. “It would make me really happy. I like McDonald’s. You should go there.”

The man stared at her like she’d placed treasure in his lap. His hand trembled as he took the drink and cash.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his shoulders loosening.

Two nearby shoppers, who had been watching, stepped forward—one handed him a $20, the other a $50. Kindness rippled outward.

We walked away quietly. My throat was too tight for words. Lily tugged my hand.

“Do you think he’ll be okay now?”

I nodded. “I think he just might be.”

I thought that was the end.

Two days later, as we cleared breakfast dishes, a thunderous roar shook the house. The windowpanes rattled.

“Is that…?” I murmured, stepping to the window.

A helicopter was descending right in front of our house.

“Mom! It’s landing!” Lily shouted, barefoot, racing to the door.