A few nights later, a storm swept through the neighborhood. Thunder rolled, rain poured, and as lightning flashed, Buddy began barking wildly. Mason ran to the window — then bolted outside. There, in the mud, lay Mrs. Henderson, who had slipped in her garden and couldn’t move. Thanks to Buddy’s frantic barking and Mason’s quick action, help arrived just in time.
The next morning, Mrs. Henderson returned from the hospital — eyes softer than we’d ever seen. She carried a small paper bag. “For the boy and his hero dog,” she said, handing Mason a bundle of cookies. For the first time, she smiled — not the polite kind, but one that reached her heart.
From that day forward, everything changed. She began visiting often, bringing treats for Buddy and laughter for Mason. She even planted flowers beside his little blue house. When our landlord heard the story, he not only allowed us to keep Buddy but waived a month’s rent in celebration of the good deed.
Now, when I see Mrs. Henderson sitting in her garden with Buddy at her feet, I’m reminded of something simple but true — kindness doesn’t always need revenge; sometimes it just needs time.
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