At the start of summer, Evelyn asked whether I wanted to help her volunteer at the literacy center downtown.

She had already been going twice a week, reading with children who needed extra support.

I hesitated.

I had spent so many years being needed at home that the thought of choosing another responsibility was exhausting.

“Only if it’s something you’d enjoy,” she said.

“And you can stop any time.”

I agreed to try one afternoon.

My first student was a little boy named Mateo who could memorize an entire page if you read it aloud but became frustrated trying to sound out the same words himself.