My six-year-old son emptied every dollar from his piggy bank to help our elderly neighbor when he noticed her house had gone dark.
I thought that small act of kindness ended there. But the next morning, our front yard was covered with piggy banks, police cars blocked the street, and a forgotten secret about our town finally came back into the light.
I opened the front door because someone would not stop knocking.
At first, I thought it might be Mrs. Adele from across the street. Maybe the electric company had finally returned her call. Maybe her nephew, Elias, had come with an apology and a way to fix everything.