Jake saw his neighbor struggling to mow the lawn and stopped to help, with his three-year-old son in tow. The older woman was grateful for the help, and they started talking about life. Shortly after, he discovered that the older woman was not just appreciative. She was a miracle worker.
“We’re going to order some pizza when we get home tonight, buddy. What do you think?” Jake asked his son, Andy, who was sitting in his car seat playing with his tablet. The kid only hummed at his dad, and Jake sighed. They were coming home from the pediatric psychologist’s office, and he had no idea how he would afford the treatments Andy needed.
His son was affected by his mother’s death a year ago. He barely spoke, and Jake was so worried about his development. His primary caregiver suggested a psychologist, but Jake’s work insurance did not cover it, and the appointments would cost an additional $2,000 a month.
He sighed as he turned towards their street but slowed the car when he spotted Mrs. Nichols bending down and cutting her grass with a pair of gardening scissors.
Jake looked at the rearview mirror; his son was still concentrating on the tablet. “Hey, buddy. How about we help our neighbor mow her lawn?” he said, stopping the car altogether in front of the older woman’s house.
Finally, Andy looked up from his tablet, and Jake smiled. “Let’s go, buddy,” he said, getting out. He helped his son get down from the car, and they left his tablet.
“Mrs. Nichols! Do you need some help?” Jake asked as he walked towards the lady, holding his son’s hand.
“Oh! Jake, dear. Are you sure? I just don’t know how to work that darn lawnmower.” The older woman smiled, one hand holding her lower back as if she was in pain.