A pregnant woman begged for bread in our bakery. She had no money, but I gave her a loaf. She smiled, handed me a hairpin, and said, “You’ll need this one day.” The owner fired me. I kept the pin, not expecting much. 6 weeks later, my blood ran cold when I found… a letter tucked in my old apron pocket from that very woman. It simply read: “Sometimes kindness costs, but it never goes unpaid.”
That same evening, after weeks of job searching, I walked past a bustling café with a “Help Wanted” sign. With nothing to lose, I stepped inside. The manager listened to my story, not just my résumé. When I mentioned the bakery, her eyes softened with a knowing sadness. She hired me on the spot, saying, “We value hearts here, not just hands.” I clutched the hairpin, feeling its strange weight, almost like a promise.
