On Thursday, my feelings were hurt. So, just like when I was in second grade, I cried to my mom.

My mom is almost 82-years-old with bad knees and macular degeneration.

But, after hearing me at 8:30 in the evening, she got in her car, went to the store, bought a card, and drove to the post office.

On Friday, I called my mom after school. My voice was happier. She noticed.

“Tomorrow, there should be a little card in your mailbox for you,” said mom.

Mom told me the whole story about choosing a card with glittery angels and driving it all the way to the post office.

I’m lucky to have a mom that loves me so much.