I worked at a small grocery store, where regulars like Mrs. Johnson brought charm to the place. One day, a woman stormed in, furious that we were out of organic apples. She yelled at me, threatening to ruin our store’s reputation. Meanwhile, her young son, Tommy, softly said, “Mom, it’s okay. We don’t need apples…”
Embarrassingly, the woman slammed into the malfunctioning doors as she tried to leave, and Tommy told her, “You were mean to that cashier lady. You should say sorry.” For a moment, she looked deflated but quickly snapped back, muttering something and dragging him out.
As the store returned to normal, I couldn’t stop thinking about Tommy’s quiet bravery. I hoped he’d remember that sometimes admitting when you’re wrong shows strength, even if his mother didn’t.
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