When I first started working at the nursing home, I never imagined that one resident would change the course of my life. Back then, I believed I was the one helping her. I had no idea she had been quietly helping me, too.
The nursing home was small, always carrying the scent of lemon cleaner, warm tea, and old paperbacks. After a year there as an orderly, it had begun to feel more like home than most places I had lived.
Growing up in foster care teaches you to recognize kindness in tiny pieces.
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