Nathan paused to turn a classmate’s slipping cap right side up.

There they were, the children I had once carried two at a time through grocery-store parking lots, walking steadily into their own futures.

After the ceremony Brian waited near the gym doors.

He had brought a card for each boy, not an expensive gift.

The cards contained handwritten congratulations and a note that he was grateful they had allowed him to attend.

Nathan hugged him briefly.