The aroma filled the kitchen, warm and inviting. Then she picked out a strong travel bag and began to organize everything inside. On her way out, she made a stop at a private hospital nearby. She walked straight to the receptionist and politely booked an appointment with a pediatrician. Two babies, she said, “Twins.
They need to be checked for malnutrition, infections, and proper growth.” She paid in full and collected the appointment slip, placing it carefully into a clean white envelope. After that, she stopped at a nearby supermarket. She picked out a full pack of baby diapers, powdered baby milk, a tin of custard, and baby feeding bottles. She didn’t rush.
She took her time to choose the best items. This wasn’t charity to her. It was personal. When she arrived at the abandoned mechanic workshop, the sun had barely climbed. She quietly approached the rusted bus where Matthew and the baby stayed, but it was empty. No one inside. She peered through the cracked window.
The thin blanket was still laid out in the back seat. A few baby clothes hung limply from the string, but Matthew and the twins were gone, probably out early, searching for his daily bread again. Emily sighed softly and gently opened the creaky bus door. She stepped inside and placed the still hot food coolers carefully in one corner of the bus.
Then she reached into the shopping bag and pulled out the diapers, baby food, and milk. Inside the same bag, she tucked in the white envelope that contained the pediatrician’s appointment slip. She paused, then tore a small piece of paper from her notebook and wrote something. Don’t fail to call me whenever you need anything.
Underneath, she wrote her phone number, bold, clear, easy to see. She placed the note on top of the diapers. And just before zipping the bag halfway, she added a small folded bundle of cash enough to transport the babies to the hospital and buy whatever else they might urgently need. She looked around the empty vehicle once more, her heart full.
