My 8-year-old gave our lonely 74-year-old neighbor her old bike — the next morning, my husband woke me up: “You need to see this.”
At a little after seven on Sunday morning, my husband leaned across the bed and shook my shoulder until I finally opened my eyes.
“Claire, you need to get up and look outside.”
I groaned and pulled the blanket closer around me. Sunday was the one morning I usually got to sleep a little longer, so whatever was happening outside had better be important.
“What happened?”