She bought my daughter a winter coat.
Another.
She drove me to chemotherapy.
Another.
She never asked for anything back.
By now, several officers were reading the notes too.
Nobody spoke.
The entire porch had gone silent.
I looked at the piggy banks covering my yard.
There had to be fifty of them.
Maybe more.
Every single one contained similar notes.
And underneath many of the notes…
Cash.
Checks.
Gift cards.
