My eight-year-old son, Noah, secretly saved his lunch money to buy a red dress for Lucy, our neighbor’s daughter with Down syndrome.
My mother-in-law called it a waste, claiming Lucy wouldn’t understand. Noah replied, “She understands when someone is nice to her.”
At her birthday party, Lucy happily spun around in the dress. The next morning, dozens of lunchboxes appeared on our lawn, filled with donations for a community program supporting children with Down syndrome.
