I had spent my childhood believing my mother’s generosity had disappeared into a hole that could never be filled.

Now I could see one consequence of it, multiplied through years of work and the decisions of many other people.

That did not mean every plate she carried out had been an investment, or that kindness required a return.

She could not have known what Gabriel would become.

She had simply seen someone who was hungry and made a meal.

Before leaving, I helped a little girl sand the edge of a wooden bird.