My chest tightened. I remembered those days. After my husband died, it was just me and my daughter, and I couldn’t always afford to treat her to something special.
So I grabbed the dress, paid, and ran after them.
“Excuse me!” I called out, panting.
Grandma turned around in surprise. The little girl peeked out from behind her leg.
I held out the bag. “This is for her. Please take it.”
Her voice was shaking. “Ma’am, I don’t know what to say. I’m raising her alone… you don’t know what that means.”
