Women like Elena have been rescued from discomfort all their lives.
She swallows and continues. “This morning, when I saw you in the church, I noticed your dress. My first thought was not kind.” Her eyes flicker down, then back up. “Then I saw the way my daughter looked at you. And I realized she understood something about value that I had spent years teaching myself not to see.”
The honesty of it leaves you still.
Some apologies come dressed in excuses.
This one does not.
“She told me yesterday what she planned to do if she saw you trying to hide in the back,” Elena says. “I thought she was being dramatic.” A pause. “I was wrong. She was being brave.”
Your throat tightens again.
“She gets that from you,” you say.
Elena lets out a breath that sounds almost like relief. “That is generous of you.”
“No,” you answer gently. “It is just true.”
