Chapter 19: No Leftovers
Chapter 19: No Leftovers
We gathered around the wooden picnic table, the kids buzzing with sugar-fueled anticipation. I lit the ten colorful candles on the massive, three-tier chocolate cake I had picked up that morning. The entire backyard erupted into a loud, incredibly off-key, but enthusiastic rendition of 'Happy Birthday.'
Maya closed her eyes tightly, clasping her hands together in front of her face, mouthing a secret wish. She took a deep breath and blew out every single candle in one massive breath. The kids cheered loudly.
As I started cutting the cake, making sure the slices were huge, I handed the very first, largest slice on a paper plate to Maya.
She looked down at the huge piece of cake, the thick chocolate frosting, and then looked up at me. There was a brief, fleeting moment where her eyes clouded—I saw a flash of the old memory pass through her mind. The memory of sitting on the cold marble floor, holding a cracked plastic container, being told she was a leftover, only meant for scraps in the dark.
But the fear didn't stay. It washed over her and vanished. She looked around at her screaming friends, her safe, beautiful home, and finally, at me, her protector. Her smile returned, brighter and more confident than ever.
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"Thanks, Dad," she said, grabbing a fork and taking a massive bite of the chocolate cake.
There were no leftovers today. There was only abundance, light, and a family that could never be broken again.
