I stopped by McDonald’s after a long, draining day, hoping a quick meal would help me unwind. As I waited at the counter, the familiar smell of fries and burgers filled the air, and I let my eyes drift around the room where families chatted over their meals.
That’s when a woman walked in with a little girl who looked about six or seven. The child’s hair was tied into two messy braids, and she held her mother’s hand tightly as she gazed up at the bright menu. Their clothes were clean but worn, the mother’s thin coat and the girl’s scuffed sneakers hinting at hard times.
The mother bent to whisper something, and the girl nodded eagerly. When they reached the counter, I heard the woman softly order a cheeseburger and small fries. The little girl tugged at her mother’s sleeve and asked, “Mommy, can I get the toy?”
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