Chad slowly sat down right on the rough gravel driveway in his expensive bathrobe.

He rested his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands.

Evelyn stepped closer and gently placed her hand on his hair, comforting him just as she had when he was a young boy.

“It is okay, son,” she soothed.

“It is not okay at all,” Chad sobbed softly into his hands.

The surrounding families paused their harvesting, standing quietly in the misty rows as they watched the scene unfold.

Chad raised his head, his eyes red from crying.