I didn’t think much about hanging my flag outside my new house. It was just a small way to feel at home. Until it was stolen.
The empty pole left me irritated. Not just at the theft, but at the feeling of being unwelcome.
Then, a note appeared. “Kids took your flag,” it said. “Here’s money for a new one.” A $20 bill was attached.
I was touched—until the cashier handed me another note: “Be careful who you trust.”
The mixed messages left me uneasy.
Days later, an older man, Walter, introduced himself. Friendly, but he hinted at trouble. “Kids around here can be reckless,” he said.
Then I met Darius, a kid who admitted his friends took the flag. I wrote them a note, asking for it back.
They returned it the next day, with an apology.
Walter knew before I told him. “Forgiveness works,” he said.
Now, the neighborhood feels different. The kids respect me. The notes make sense—maybe Walter sent them to teach me patience.
Sometimes, people just need a chance to do better.
