For 23 years, Nancy honored her son Henry’s memory by baking his favorite apple and cinnamon pie and bringing it to his grave. This annual ritual was her way of keeping him close, a bittersweet reminder of the joy they once shared.

This year, however, something changed. The next day, when Nancy returned to clean up the remains, she found the pie gone, replaced by a small note that simply said, “Thank you.” Confusion and anger surged within her—who had taken her son’s pie?

Determined to uncover the truth, Nancy baked another pie and hid nearby, waiting to catch the thief. To her surprise, a small boy, no older than nine, approached the grave. He looked ragged and hungry, and as he knelt, Nancy’s anger melted away. The boy scribbled “Thank you” on a scrap of paper, revealing his gratitude for the pie.

Feeling compassion, Nancy stepped forward. “It’s okay, I’m not mad. What’s your name?”

“Jimmy,” he whispered, eyes wide with fear.

“Come with me. I’ll bake you a pie,” she offered, leading him home. In her kitchen, the comforting scent filled the air as Jimmy watched in awe. When the pie was ready, he took a bite, his face lighting up with joy.

As Nancy watched him eat, she realized she was honoring Henry’s memory in a new way—sharing love and kindness with a boy who desperately needed it. For the first time in years, she felt peace, connected to both her son and this child in need.