Last year, I packed up my daughter’s small clothes and gave them away online for free. I thought I was just cleaning up and making space.
Then I got a message from a woman named Nura. She said she was struggling with money and her daughter needed warm clothes. She also said she couldn’t afford to pay for shipping right now but would “pay when she could.”
For a moment, I almost ignored the message. I was tired — still grieving my mom, busy with work, and just trying to hold things together. But something about her words felt real and heartfelt, so I couldn’t turn away. I packed the clothes, sealed the box, and sent it. It felt like a small, simple act of kindness — one I didn’t think about again. Sometimes we give without realizing how much it might mean later.
Almost a year later, a package showed up at my door. Inside were the same little clothes — clean, neatly folded — and a handwritten note. Nura thanked me for helping her during her hardest time. She said those clothes kept her daughter warm through many cold nights, and she waited until she was ready to return them — this time with thanks instead of need.
Then I saw something that made me stop — a small yellow crocheted duck. My yellow duck, the one from my own childhood, which must have slipped into the box by mistake.
The moment I saw it, tears filled my eyes. It wasn’t just a toy — it was a piece of my past.
Nura included her phone number in the note. When we talked, she shared her story — how she escaped a dangerous situation, started over from nothing, and did everything she could to protect her daughter. She said the package arrived right when she needed something gentle and hopeful, something to remind her that kindness still exists in the world.
We stayed in touch after that. Our daughters became friends first, and soon we did too. We began exchanging messages, encouragement, and homemade meals. Sometimes she helped me through hard times; other times, I helped her. Over time, we became real friends — something neither of us had expected.
Now, that little yellow duck sits on my daughter’s bedside table — a quiet reminder that kindness never disappears. It moves from one person to another and eventually finds its way back, often in ways more beautiful than we could imagine.