The fruit seller opened the box. A little face peered out, eyes wide and frightened, ready to spill over like two large drops.
“Hasn’t eaten a thing, probably taken from its mother and tossed aside. Its fur is matted because it was living in a crate that used to hold apricots.”
Without a word, the customer walked away. The man shook his head sadly, “Even women have lost their compassion.” But after a while, she came back. “I can’t stop thinking about your kitten,” she said, handing him a cloth. “Wrap it up for me.”
“You’re taking it?” the man asked, delighted. He carefully wrapped the kitten and handed it over as if it were a child. “You’ll be blessed for this, truly blessed,” he repeated.
The woman smiled indulgently, “You’ve found yourself a benefactress, haven’t you? I still don’t know how my husband will react to this ‘gift.’ He might throw both of us out.”
And she wasn’t wrong. The kitten didn’t fit in. Even after being washed, groomed, and fed, it still looked pitiful.
“What is this creature?” the husband scoffed when the kitten tried to climb his leg. Its little claws scratching distracted them from their TV show. The new, expensive wallpaper was in danger. “Do we have a mouse problem? Why do we need this thing in our one-bedroom flat?” he scolded his wife.
Holding the kitten by the scruff, he looked at the helpless creature with a mix of puzzlement and disdain. “Make sure it’s gone by tomorrow.”
Valerie already regretted her decision. But those tearful eyes looked up at her, small paws kneaded her leg pleadingly, and the frail little body purred so loudly that a warm trickle of pity spread through her heart. She bent down and petted the kitten.
Encouraged by her touch, the kitten climbed into her arms and nuzzled its nose into her warm palm. “Kindness begets kindness,” Valerie recalled her mother’s words to calm herself.
The phone rang: “Grandma, come over for tea!”
Quietly slipping out so as not to disturb her husband’s show, Valerie headed out. Her son lived just across the street. Katie was already outside her home, waving joyfully. Suddenly, a large black car swerved onto the sidewalk. The child’s body was flung upward. Valerie froze, unable to scream or move.
She watched as if in slow motion, taking in every detail: a woman lifted the little girl, whose tiny hands clutched at her savior’s neck, alive! A man struggled out of the car, drunk. Her son was running toward them, in uniform.
With trembling hands, he fumbled to draw his weapon but stopped at her shout: “No!!!”
Standing across the road, it seemed like she was pushing him back with invisible hands.
People gathered, blocking his path and detaining the drunken driver. Valerie wasn’t aware of her own movements. But she was moving… or being carried? Toward Katie! The doctor was already examining the child: “She’s fine. No broken bones. No significant bruising.”
“But why won’t she speak?!” her daughter-in-law asked, shaking with fear.
“She’s scared. Try to distract her,” the doctor suggested.
“Hold on, I will.”
Valerie dashed home, grabbing the kitten and explaining to her husband what happened as she went. She made it back just in time. The ambulance hadn’t left. The fear was evident in the child’s eyes. Carefully, she pried open Katie’s hands and placed the kitten in them. Katie’s gaze shifted. Her fingers moved, gently stroking its soft fur. In response, the kitten murmured softly. “Misty,” whispered the girl. The doctor sighed with relief. Now Valerie let her tears fall—it was okay.
Katie clung to her new feline friend. They stayed the night in the hospital. By morning, they were allowed to go home with the assurance: “The girl was just born lucky.”
“Kindness begets kindness,” Valerie murmured softly.
