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They Pushed Us Into the Rain—Then Kindness Took a Seat Beside Us
The rain that afternoon came down in sheets, bruising the sky and soaking everything in its path. At seventy-two, my joints protested every step, but I had no choice—I needed to get baby Amy home from the pediatrician before nightfall.
Across the street, I spotted a small café glowing with warm light behind fogged-up windows. It looked like refuge. I balanced the stroller with one hand and shielded Amy with my jacket as we dashed through the storm.
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