It wasn’t the note itself that mattered—it was the care behind it. A stranger, in the middle of her own day, saw something I missed and chose to act. No credit. No expectation. Just decency.
The world can feel sharp and impatient—people scrolling past each other, eyes down, hearts guarded. But moments like this remind me: goodness still lives here. It’s in the woman who notices, the man who holds the door a little longer, the neighbor who checks in just because.
