A week after I handed a tired young mother four dollars at the gas station, an envelope showed up at my work with my name scrawled across the front. There was no return address or explanation. It was just a simple white envelope that would end up changing the way I saw kindness forever.
I’m Ross, and I’m 49 years old. I’ve got a wife named Lydia, two kids who keep growing out of their shoes faster than I can buy new ones, and a mortgage that still feels way too big for a house that’s honestly too small. But it’s ours, and that counts for something.
A couple standing in front of a house | Source: Pexels
A few years back, the factory I worked at for over two decades shut down overnight. I mean… literally overnight.