On Mother’s Day, a Little Girl Knocked on My Door Holding My Son’s Backpack – She Said, ‘You Were Looking for This, Didn’t You? You Need to Know the Truth’

“Too much food. Probably dry rolls.”

Grandpa Joe rubbed his cap between his hands. “Sarah doesn’t make friends easily.”

“Neither did Randy,” I said. “He collected people quietly.”

That Sunday, I set three places at my kitchen table.

Then I set one more.

A bowl with dry cereal and a glass of milk on the side, poured exactly the way Randy used to do it.

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