I wandered past it all, feeling the ache of solitude grow stronger. My gaze caught a shop window filled with little glass ornaments painted with winter scenes.
“Mom loved those,” I murmured to myself.
Every year, she and I would pick one for our tree, sip hot cocoa, and watch old movies. But this year, it was just me.
A movement caught my eye. An elderly woman was struggling through the snow, dragging a heavy suitcase. Something inside me stirred, and I walked over.
“Ma’am, do you need some help?” I asked.
She looked up, relief flooding her tired face. “Oh, bless you, dear. I’m Edie. I… came to surprise my daughter, Melody, for Thanksgiving. It’s been years.”
“That sounds wonderful,” I said, smiling. “Would you like me to walk with you?”
Her eyes brightened. “Oh, yes. I’d be so grateful.”
