The woman and her daughter looked tired as they sat down at a table next to me at McDonald’s. They were quiet and it struck me that they seemed solemn. Had the woman been crying?
The girl and her mother were counting change. I had heard her ask an employee for some menu prices and how much sales tax would be. Then it dawned on me. They were counting their remaining change to see what they could afford to order.
I tried to strike up a friendly conversation, but they were guarded. The woman responded politely, but she didn’t feel much like being friendly to a stranger. I got up from my seat and walked over to their table.
“Are you a little short?” I asked quietly, not wanting anyone else to hear and risk embarrassing her. “I’d be happy to help if I can.”

My bad teen poetry suggests I’ve always hungered for missing love
I don’t really hate you, honest; I’m just afraid you may hurt me
I can force child to obey me, but obedience comes with high cost
When love finally dies, it’s like a fever breaks and the pain is gone
Forget your partner’s best traits; worst traits predict your future
We sometimes need help to finish a long race we’ve decided to run
Stop using children as pawns to promote adult political agendas
Why do we stay in prison when there’s no lock holding us there?
Midlife becomes big crisis when our self-deception stops working