For three years, my neighbor’s young son, Marcus, knocked on my door at exactly 6 a.m. every day because his mother worked nights. I never asked for anything in return. I packed his lunch, made sure he was ready for school, and drove him there every morning. He became part of my daily life, and I was happy to help him.

Then one day, I received an eviction notice and had nowhere to go. Heartbroken, I went to Marcus’s mother hoping she might help. Instead, she looked at me coldly and said, “I always knew you were too nosy. Honestly? Good riddance!” before slamming the door in my face. I returned to my car and cried for hours, feeling completely abandoned and alone.

Then someone tapped on my car window. I looked up and froze. It was little Marcus, wearing his backpack, his eyes red from crying. He pressed a folded piece of paper against the glass. When I opened it, I found a crayon drawing of the two of us standing happily in front of my apartment, with a huge yellow sun above us.

At the bottom, in his careful handwriting, he had written, “You are the best person I have ever met. I saved my birthday money. It’s $45. I want you to have it.” Taped to the back were two crumpled twenty-dollar bills and a five. I couldn’t stop crying. I didn’t take his money, but I kept the drawing. It reminded me that even when life feels unbearably dark, one small act of kindness can bring back the light.