Every day after school, I sat outside with a small table, selling handmade crochet toys to raise money for my friend Ethan’s mom, who needed urgent medical treatment. It was exhausting work, but I couldn’t give up—she deserved a chance to heal. My dad used to tell me, “Real strength is protecting people weaker than you.” He was the leader of a local motorcycle club, a man who looked intimidating to others but was the gentlest soul to me.
After he passed away, his words stayed in my heart and guided me. For two long weeks, I sold my toys in the summer heat, but I managed to raise only a small amount. Then one day, a classmate handed me what looked like a huge donation. My heart soared… until I got home and discovered it was all fake money. My hope crumbled. I went to bed that night feeling like I’d failed Ethan and his mom completely.
