I was late to pick up my niece, stuck at a red light for the third time. Then I saw why: a police officer was helping an elderly woman cross the street slowly and carefully. She wore a heavy brown coat and carried a heavy tote. The officer matched her pace, smiling gently. It was a small moment, but it moved me—and I may have shed a tear.
Then she looked directly at my car and raised her hand to wave. My heart dropped. It was Maribel—the woman my brother Mateo had hit with his car twelve years ago.After the accident, Maribel forgave Mateo in court and asked for leniency. She never sued him. Mateo struggled with guilt and his drinking afterward and eventually moved away. Maribel disappeared from our lives.