At 14, I used to pretend I forgot lunch—truth was, we had no food. My mom worked nights at a dry cleaner, and my dad had vanished, leaving bills behind. So I’d sit in the library, starving, pretending to read.

Then Ms. Grennan began “forgetting” bananas or “extra” granola bars on her desk. Eventually, she packed me lunch daily, never asking questions. Then, one Monday, she was gone. No one explained. Just… gone.

Ten years later, after law school and countless night shifts, I was working at a legal aid office. One intake form stopped me cold: Maeve Grennan. I opened the door—and there she was.

She didn’t recognize me at first. Then: “Oh my god. Zadie?”

She needed help. Mold in her apartment. An uncooperative landlord. But the real story broke my heart—false accusations had ended her teaching career. She’d lost everything.

I took her case, got her compensation, and worked to restore her license. A year later, it was reinstated. She didn’t return to school, but started a literacy group—and asked me to speak at the opening.

“You saved me,” she whispered.

“No,” I replied. “You saved me first.”

Sometimes, the kindness you give comes back when you need it most. ❤️