I Paid for a Struggling Grandma at the Grocery Store – Three Days Later, the Clerk Came to My Door with Her Final Request

“She left this with my manager,” he said. “Told him, ‘Give this to Ethan.

He’ll know the girl.’ She described you. Your name, what you bought. She was very specific.

We managed to track you down thanks to the rewards card you swiped. It’s not the most professional thing to do, but the circumstances were out of the ordinary.”

My name was on the front of the envelope.

Lily.

Shaky cursive.

“Do you want me to come in for a minute?” he asked. “Or I can just leave this.”

“Come in,” I said, opening the door wider.

“Just for a minute.”

He stepped into our tiny living room, looking around like he didn’t want to break anything.

The kids peeked from the hallway, whispering.

I sat on the couch and opened the envelope.

There was a folded letter and some official-looking paperwork.

I opened the letter first.

Lily,

You may not remember me, but I remember you.

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