Verity and I were about to cross the street from one grocery store to another when we passed a driveway where there were some workers cutting some metal or something. It was loud and sparks were flying. They were a safe distance away, but as I looked away for a moment Verity tripped and reached up to me to pick her up. It took me a second to realize that the tears weren’t only in reaction to the fall but to what the workers were doing.
I carried her across the street, and as I opened the store door she asked, “Shall we hide from the little pieces of fire?”