For the babies

    I scrubbed hard at the black grime on the high-chair tray while I chatted with the director of the pregnancy support center.

    
    “Do you ever know who is giving the clothes and stuff or is it all anonymous?” She typed for a minute before answering.

    
    “A lot of people just drop things in the back door, but sometimes they come in with questions about what we do here. Or they come in to get things they need from the boutique.”  

    “There’s an elderly lady who comes in about twice a month… She won’t even look at me.” She stopped talking and looked thoughtfully at nothing for a minute. 


    “Every time I see her it looks like she’s on the verge of tears and she won’t talk to me except to hand me a beautiful, handmade blanket and say ‘This is for the babies,’ then she leaves.”