The fruit seller opened the crate. A little face peered out. Huge, frightened eyes looked as if they might overflow with tears at any moment.
“She’s not eating. Probably taken from her mother and abandoned. Her fur’s matted because she was in a crate meant for plums.”
The customer, saying nothing, walked away. The man shook his head in sorrow: “Compassion seems to be gone, even among women.” But after a little while, she returned.
“I can’t stop thinking about your kitten,” she said, handing him a cloth. “Wrap her up for me.”
“You’re taking her?” the man was thrilled. He gently wrapped up the kitten and handed her to the woman like a precious child.
“May blessings come to you,” he repeated earnestly.
The woman gave a tolerant smile, “We’ll see how my husband feels about this ‘gift’. We might both end up outside.”
And she was right. The kitten wasn’t welcome at first. Even after being cleaned, fed, and cared for, she still looked miserable and unimpressive.
“What is this little creature?” the husband grumbled, pushing the kitten away as she tried to climb on his leg. The tiny scratching noises distracted the couple from their TV show, threatening their new, expensive wallpaper. “Do we need this cat in our one-bedroom flat?” he chided his wife.
Gripping the kitten by the scruff, he stared at the little creature hanging helplessly in his hands with both confusion and distaste: “Make sure she’s gone by tomorrow.”
Valerie herself was starting to regret finding the kitten. But those teary eyes looked up at her, and the frail little body purred so hopefully, a warm wave of sympathy washed over her. She bent down to stroke it.
Encouraged, the kitten climbed into her arms, nestling her nose into Valerie’s warm palm. “Kindness begets kindness,” Valerie recalled her mother’s words and felt at peace with her decision.
The phone rang: “Grandma, come over for tea!”
Valerie quietly slipped out of the house without disturbing her husband from his TV show. Her son lived just down the street. Katie was already outside, waving cheerfully. Suddenly, a large black car swerved onto the pavement. The child was thrown into the air. Valerie froze. She couldn’t scream or move.
Her eyes, as if in slow motion, captured each moment: a woman lifted the girl. Small hands clutched tightly around her neck. Alive! The man stumbled out of the car. Drunk. Her son ran towards them. In his uniform, trembling, he fumbled for his weapon and was jolted by her shout: “No!!!”
Valerie remained across the street, but he felt as though she was holding him back with outstretched arms.
People gathered, stopping the drunk driver. Valerie barely felt the ground beneath her feet. But she moved… or was she carried? To Katie! A doctor was already examining her, checking each bone:
“Everything’s fine. No fractures, just a few bruises.”
“But why isn’t she talking?!” her daughter-in-law was trembling with worry.
“She’s just scared. We need to distract her,” suggested the doctor.
“I know, just a moment.”
Valerie rushed home. She grabbed the kitten, quickly telling her husband what had happened. She arrived just in time. The ambulance hadn’t left. Fear lingered in the child’s eyes. Carefully, Valerie pried open her small hands and placed the kitten in them. Katie looked down. Her fingers hesitated, then stroked the soft fur. In response, a gentle purr-r-r filled the air. “Purry,” whispered the girl. The doctor sighed with relief. Valerie allowed herself to cry—now it was safe.
Katie didn’t let go of the kitten. They spent the night at the hospital. By morning, they were allowed home with a simple conclusion: “The girl truly had a stroke of luck.”
“Kindness begets kindness,” Valerie murmured.
