A Happy Meal and a
A Heartfelt Meal
I swung by McDonald’s for a quick meal, hoping to ease the tension from a long day. The fluorescent lights hummed softly above, bathing the lively restaurant in a bright, vibrant glow. The smell of fries and burgers wafted through the air, providing a momentary escape from the hectic pace of my workday. While I was waiting for my order, I saw a woman walk in with a little girl. The girl looked to be around six or seven, her hair pulled back into two untidy braids. She held her mother’s hand firmly, her eyes sparkling as she looked over the vibrant, colorful menu.
The little girl whispered, her voice barely above a breath, “Can we eat here, please?”“
The mother paused, unsure of what to do next. She glanced around anxiously, her tattered clothes and weary eyes revealing the burden she bore. After a brief pause, she nodded and retrieved a small, crumpled bundle of cash from her pocket. She walked up to the counter and asked for a hamburger. Only one.
