One Small Act of Kindness That Changed Everything

I never thought pride could be measured in spare change, yet there I was—counting coins on the kitchen counter and convincing myself that another packet of instant noodles could pass as dinner.

Whenever my parents called, I played my role well: busy, tired, doing great. I loved them too much to let worry slip into their voices. So when my mom casually mentioned she might stop by my place to drop off “a few treats,” I laughed it off. Treats sounded harmless—cookies, maybe leftovers—something small enough to accept without admitting how thin everything had become.

That night, I came home drained in a way sleep couldn’t fix.