And he once stopped me in the middle of the sidewalk because a beetle was flipped on its back, legs kicking helplessly. “Everyone deserves help, Mom,” he said, crouching down and gently nudging it upright with a twig. That’s Theo.
Quiet, kind-hearted, and easy to miss if you’re not paying attention, but if you do notice, you’ll see there’s something special about him. It all started in late spring, just after the last frost. I was cleaning up the kitchen one afternoon when I realized we were running out of peanut butter faster than usual.
Maybe he was hitting that pre-teen growth spurt. But then I started noticing something strange. His lunchbox was always empty when he got home.
Not just the sandwich, but every crumb. Every single day. Now, Theo’s never been a big eater.
He usually left a few crusts or at least the apple slices. But suddenly, it was like he was licking the box clean. That got my attention.Continue reading…
