I sat next to him.
— Why didn’t her family buy her another one?
— They have a lot of medical bills. They can’t afford the price of the cart that the Tipa needs.
My eyes turned to the empty guitar holder.
— So, decide to sell your Fender?
He nodded his head in silence.
— Someone had to help him, Mom.
— Why didn’t you tell me what you were planning?
His eyes were filled with tears.
— I thought you’d like to arrange a fundraiser, but Maya needed help now. Sorry.
I wrapped him in my arms.
I didn’t like that he had made such a big decision without talking to me, but I couldn’t ignore the kindness behind his action.
— You have a wonderful heart, — I said. — But next time, we’ll find such a solution together.
Then I asked him if the money from the guitar sale was enough.
— Not all, — he admitted.
