But that conversation never happened.
Eventually, I realized I didn’t need it.
My decision wasn’t dependent on Vanessa understanding it.
It was dependent on me understanding that my generosity was a choice, not a contract.
About a month later, I came home from work and found a small envelope tucked beneath my front door.
Inside was a handwritten note.
It was from Sophie.
Dear Mrs. Sarah,
Thank you for taking me to school for two years. I liked riding with you and Emma because you always made the mornings fun. I’m sorry about what happened that day. I tried to tell Mom that Emma could sit on my jacket, but she wouldn’t listen.
I hope you and Emma know that I still love being friends with her.
Your friend,
Sophie.
I read the note twice.
Then I placed it on the kitchen table and called Emma.
She came running downstairs, read the letter, and smiled.
