When Kindness Finds You at Your Lowest

As soon as they wake up, I was dreading telling them the truth. But just as I reached for the zipper on the tent, Micah stirred.

“Daddy?” he whispered, rubbing his eyes. “Can we go see the ducks again?”

He meant the ones at the pond near the rest stop. I forced a smile. “Yes, buddy. As soon as your brothers are up.”

We packed up our few things and brushed our teeth at the sink behind the building. The sun was already baking the grass. Toby, the youngest, held my hand and hummed quietly. Caleb, the oldest, kicked rocks and asked if we’d go hiking today.

Then I saw her — a woman in her late sixties, worn flannel shirt, long braid down her back, carrying a paper bag and a giant thermos. I braced for the worst.

Instead, she smiled and held out the bag.

“Morning,” she said. “You boys want some breakfast?”

Before I could answer, the boys lit up. Inside the bag were warm biscuits and boiled eggs. The thermos? Hot cocoa. Not coffee — cocoa. For them.

And just like that, a small act of kindness gave us hope — and reminded me that even in the hardest moments, there’s still goodness in the world.