He slid a paper toward me. “We’re creating a schoolwide fund for kids who need winter clothes—coats, boots, hats, gloves. No questions asked. Because of your shoebox.”
I stared at him, stunned. “I… didn’t mean to start anything.”
“That’s exactly why it worked,” he said.
Over the next few days, donations poured in. A bakery dropped off mittens. Parents donated coats. Retired teachers knitted hats. Janice promised ten pairs of gloves each week.
By mid-December, my shoebox had grown into a full bin. Kids left thank-you notes inside:
“I don’t get teased anymore.”
“This scarf is warm. Thank you.”
“You’re the best bus driver ever.”
The moment that hit me hardest came just before winter break.
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