My Son Gave His Umbrella to a Pregnant Stranger in the Rain – The Next Morning, 47 Umbrellas Appeared on Our Lawn, Each With a Numbered Box That Made My Heart Stop

as “easy.” He was quiet, polite, soft-spoken. He never slammed doors, never threw tantrums in grocery stores, never talked back in that sharp, cutting way some kids do when they know exactly where to stick the knife.