Lucy looked at the coin purse, then at her grandmother’s face, and set down the cash box lid. “One dozen is six dollars, Grandma,” she said evenly. Grandma Pruitt counted out the coins, her fingers trembling, and set them in Lucy’s palm. Then she did something none of us expected. She reached into her coat and laid a thick envelope on the tailgate. “That is yours,” she whispered. “All of it, and then some.”

Chief Doyle, watching from the bay door, quietly set down his coffee. Owen opened the envelope slowly. Inside was a stack of bills and a folded note in Grandma’s shaky handwriting. He read the first line aloud, and his voice cracked. A crowd had gathered, and the firefighters fell silent as he continued, while Grandma stood with her head bowed and tears running down her face.