“I wish I could ask you what you would do,” I said quietly.

A breeze moved through the trees.

Oliver slept against my chest.

I realized then that my mother had spent her life teaching me to recognize kindness, even when it arrived in an unfamiliar form.

She had also taught me to walk away from people who asked me to surrender my dignity.

I had forgotten the second lesson for a while.

I hadn’t lost it.