Out stepped the mailman—no uniform, no sagging bag. He was dressed in a crisp suit, silver hair slicked back. The exhaustion of the day before vanished, replaced by an aura of ease and quiet authority. Eli gasped. “Mom! It’s him!” He approached us, smiling warmly. “Hello again,” he said. He crouched to speak to Eli, presenting a small velvet box. Inside was a tiny red metal car—a miniature of the Bugatti behind him. “I used to collect these when I was your age,” he said gently. “Your kindness reminded me why small acts matter. This is for you.” Eli’s eyes widened. “This is the coolest thing ever!”
