On Mother’s Day, a Little Girl Appeared at My Door Carrying My Son’s Backpack – Then She Whispered, “You Were Looking for This, Didn’t You? You Need to Know the Truth”

“So I guarded it.”

“His backpack was still under the table.”

I held her while she cried into my shoulder, and the unfinished unicorn rested between us like Randy had simply stepped out for a moment.

Once she calmed down, I asked quietly:

“Who takes care of you?””…continue reading…