“Then who were they for?”
Ariel lowered her backpack.
“Mrs. Grunwald.”
I knew the name.
For illustration purposes only
Mrs. Grunwald was an elderly custodian at Ariel’s school. She had a sharp little smile and once returned Ariel’s forgotten lunch box to me with the
comment, “This thing gets around more than I do.”
I’d always liked her.
“What happened to her glasses?”
“The middle was taped together, and one side kept falling off. Yesterday they fell into her dustpan.”
“And you gave her all your money?”
“She needed new ones.”
“How did you buy them?”
“I didn’t go anywhere.”
That relieved me immediately.
“I put the money in an envelope and gave it to her.”
“And she took it?”
“Not at first. She gave it back, so I gave it to her again.”
“Ariel.”
“I told her I’d saved it for something I wanted.”
“And?”
“I wanted her to see properly.”
That shut me up.
Ariel continued.
“She already had a prescription. She used some of my money and paid the rest herself.”
“So she has new glasses now?”
Ariel’s face brightened.
“She wore them today.”
I pulled her into a hug.
“I’m so
proud of you.”
She relaxed against me.
“But next time, tell me first.”
She pulled back.
“Why?”
“Because that’s a lot of money.”



