Her voice was quiet.
She didn’t tell me every detail.
She didn’t need to.
Sometimes you can hear exhaustion in someone’s voice.
She looked young enough to still be figuring out adulthood herself.
Yet she was carrying a baby, a diaper bag, and the weight of an entire household.
My husband wasn’t impressed.
In the car, he shook his head.
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
“Bought baby formula?”
“Encouraged her.”
I turned toward him.
“Encouraged her to feed her baby?”
He looked out the window.
“People take advantage.”
“Maybe some do.”
“Exactly.”
I didn’t respond.
Because I understood the concern.
There are scams.
There are people who manipulate kindness.
But there are also genuinely struggling parents.
And when a mother tells you she doesn’t have enough food for her baby, I don’t think the first response should be suspicion.
I thought about Maya for the rest of the evening.
Then I thought about how quickly my husband had mocked her.
