The first time I saw her, I suspected she had been crying, but I didn’t want to invade her privacy and I thought maybe she had an allergy or cold. But, I was concerned.
The next time I saw her, there was no doubt. So I asked if she was OK. Her eyes welled up. “Last week when we were here, it was my son’s last meal”— she paused and I gasped — “before I took him to catch the bus. He joined the Marines.”
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