I looked at the piggy banks covering my yard.
There had to be fifty of them.
Maybe more.
Every single one contained similar notes.
And underneath many of the notes…
Cash.
Checks.
Gift cards.
Donations.
Hundreds.
Thousands.
Tens of thousands.
I looked at the officer.
“What is happening?”
He smiled slightly.
“I think your son started something.”
My confusion only grew.
Then another police cruiser pulled up.
Followed by a local news van.
Then another.
People were gathering at the end of the street.
Neighbors.
Families.
Business owners.
Strangers.
All
