When my ten-year-old daughter, Lily, started obsessively checking the mailbox, I thought it was just a phase. What I found hidden in those letters, however, left me in tears and revealed a secret that would change our lives forever in the best way.

I’m Erin, a 40-year-old single mom, and my daughter Lily is my whole world. Her dad passed away three years ago, and since then, we’ve been a team. I work from home as a freelance graphic designer, which lets me spend a lot of time with her.

One evening after dinner, Lily asked to check the mailbox. It seemed odd since she’d never cared about the mail before, but I handed her the key. The next day, she asked again and ran outside with excitement. This soon became a daily routine.

But Lily also started acting differently. She became more secretive, spending time alone in her room. One evening, she asked if people could connect through letters, which struck me as unusual. The next morning, she was hiding something in her backpack. When I asked, she said it was for a school project.

By day seven, I could no longer ignore her secrecy. She refused to let me check the mailbox, claiming it was “a secret.” I asked if she was hiding anything dangerous, and she assured me she wasn’t. After she left for school, I opened the mailbox and found several letters written by Lily, each addressed to our mailwoman, Mrs. Thompson.

In one letter, Lily expressed concern for Mrs. Thompson’s grief over losing her daughter, offering friendship through letters. There were more letters filled with kindness and little stories from Lily’s day. One from Mrs. Thompson thanked Lily for brightening her day with her letters. I sat down, overwhelmed by emotion, realizing Lily had reached out to someone in need without me even knowing.

That evening, I told Lily, “You have the biggest heart of anyone I know,” as she checked the mailbox again. Together, we read another letter from Mrs. Thompson, and I could see how much joy it brought her.

In the weeks that followed, I encouraged Lily’s correspondence with Mrs. Thompson. We invited her over for tea, and Lily’s nervousness melted when Mrs. Thompson gave her a warm hug. The afternoon was filled with laughter and connection.

As Lily and I sat on the porch that evening, she asked, “Do you think we’ll always be friends with Mrs. Thompson?” I smiled, replying, “I think so, Lily. You’ve shown her so much love, and that’s what makes friendships last.”

Lily smiled, “I like making people happy.” I hugged her, grateful for the lesson she’d taught me about the power of kindness and the connections we can make through even the smallest gestures.