I called Mom while I was shopping and asked, “Should I bring chocolate cake or apple pie for Christmas?” – Welcome

in me.

I laughed.

That ordinariness mattered.

She wasn’t a symbol of hardship.

She was Laya.

Nine years old.

Hated fractions.

Loved chocolate frosting.

Her mother was searching for work.

They were living through a difficult period.

That was all.

I researched several organizations and chose one that operated single-family transitional homes for roughly nine to continue reading …