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When my son was 11, he donated school supplies to a stranger. He included a letter and his photo, hoping they would help someone. Years later, a girl tracked him down on Facebook.
What she told him and what happened next still make me cry.
December 2006 feels like a lifetime ago, but I remember that afternoon clearly.
My son, Tyler, was 11, sitting at our dining room table surrounded by an explosion of potential gifts. Markers, stickers, toy cars, candy canes, and notebooks with cartoon characters.
He hadn’t moved for 45 minutes.
“Sweetie, the drop-off’s in two hours,” I said. “You need to decide.”
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