She said she had been stressed, that the party had gotten away from her, that she had not understood.
I listened.
Then I asked her what part she had failed to understand.
The blanket.
The work.
The woman who made it.
Or the fact that everyone in that room was expected to laugh because she did.
She had no good answer.
To her credit, she did not invent one.
Kyle stood behind her on the porch steps, quiet.
That mattered more than anything he might have said.
I told them the bonds would stay with me.
The letter would stay sealed.
The blanket would be kept safe until the child was old enough to receive it in the spirit Frank intended.
If they wanted their son to have designer things, that was their choice.
But Frank’s gift would not be used to decorate Madison’s pride.
Madison started crying harder then.
I did not move to comfort her.
I am not cruel, but I have learned that rescuing people too quickly can rob them of the lesson they earned.
The video came down later that day.
