In 2010, my friend Layla invited me over. I tried to act indifferent, but the moment I stepped inside, the aroma of warm rolls, roasted turkey, and homemade gravy transported me to a completely different world.
Unaccustomed to seeing a table so full of food, I instinctively dipped a spoon into the gravy. Layla’s mom noticed and frowned. “Is this really how your mother raised you?” she asked sharply. I felt a wave of embarrassment and wished I could vanish.
Later that evening, when I got home and opened my backpack to get my schoolbooks, I froze. Nestled inside was a warm Tupperware container filled with turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, and a small slice of pie.
On top was a handwritten note: “No child should go hungry on Thanksgiving. – Mrs. R.”
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