I found a folded drawing in my coat pocket at work

Dear Delyara, One of the children had slipped it in there without telling me. It was only a quick sketch — our house, a badly drawn sun, three people with round heads and stick arms — but I opened it in the staff toilet and nearly cried over how little it takes now to undo me emotionally. I think what got me wasn’t the drawing itself. It was the idea that while I was moving through my workday trying to be competent and calm and grown, some small proof of love had been travelling with me quietly in my coat all along. That felt like rescue for a minute.