Story 4:
There was a man who sat on the same park bench every morning. I walked by him on my way to school for years. One day, I decided to sit next to him.
We started talking. He asked about my classes. I asked about his life. We chatted a few times a week for a month. Then he disappeared.
Years later, my mom found a photo of him in our attic. He was my grandfather. He left when my dad was a kid. I never told my dad. I don’t know if he’d want to know.
Story 5:
Story 6:
In 8th grade, I struggled with math. My mom found a retired teacher to tutor me for free. She came every Saturday for two years. Never took a dime.
At graduation, she sent me a letter with a photo. Her daughter had died in a car crash at 13.
She said I looked like her. Same hair, same nervous smile. Helping me helped her grieve. That’s why she never charged.
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