A bus ticket, a care package, a haircut — the items were small, the caring behind them enormous. A small seed sprouted and grew tall. Twenty readers share acts of giving
Tzippy Braude, Lakewood, NJ I must have been in tenth grade, when I went to the lunchroom to wash netilas yadayim, and like every other day, took off the ring my grandparents had given me for my bas mitzvah. I rarely saw my grandparents, and the ring was a precious memento of their love for me. To my horror, the ring somehow slipped across the wet counter and disappeared down the drain.