Strangers.
All carrying piggy banks.
One by one they walked into our yard.
Adding them to the growing collection.
I spotted Mrs. Harper from three blocks away.
Then the owner of the hardware store.
Then the pharmacist from downtown.
Then the retired school principal.
Each person arrived carrying a piggy bank.
Each person left without explanation.
By noon, there were more than two hundred.
Oliver finally woke up and wandered onto the porch in his pajamas.
He stopped.
His eyes widened.
“Mom?”
I laughed nervously.
