I nearly grounded my son for stealing. Instead, he taught me a lesson about compassion that still brings tears to my eyes.
After losing Sarah, the smallest things—like her collection of ridiculous novelty socks—became precious to me. So when they started disappearing, I turned detective. The nanny cam revealed Dylan sneaking them into his backpack, but nothing prepared me for what came next.
Following him to a crumbling house, I burst in ready to scold him—only to find him carefully fitting my pizza-patterned sock onto an amputee veteran’s foot. “Mr. Frank’s kids never visit,” Dylan explained. “And cold feet make people grumpy.”
Sarah’s spirit lived on in that moment. Now we buy socks specifically for Frank, though Dylan still insists veterans look best in mismatched pairs.
