She smiled. “Oh, I do.”

Before she left, she handed me a small envelope.

“Open this when you get home,” she said.

When I got back, after putting the kids down for their nap, I opened the envelope. Inside was a handwritten note:

“I know it’s hard. I know the nights feel endless. But your babies will grow up knowing their mama fought for them with everything she had. Don’t give up. You’re not alone.”

And tucked behind the note?

A $200 grocery gift card.

I broke down and cried. But this time, it wasn’t from despair—it was from hope.