My coworker Sabrina borrowed $300 from me, saying her mom was sick. She promised to pay it back in two weeks… but two weeks passed. Then three. Nothing.
I was irritated, then angry. I replayed that conversation over and over, imagining how I’d confront her. Then one afternoon, I saw her walking out of a luxury salon downtown—fresh hair, flawless makeup. The anger hit instantly.
I followed her to her car, ready to call her out. But when she opened the door, everything inside me stopped.
A little girl—four, maybe five—was asleep in the backseat. Blankets piled everywhere. Clothes stuffed into a ripped duffel. Juice boxes, food wrappers, a stuffed rabbit missing an ear.
They were living in that car.
My anger vanished. She saw me and froze. “You want the truth?” she asked.
Her mom had died the day after she borrowed the money. She lost her shifts, then her apartment. She’d been too embarrassed to tell anyone.
The salon? A free voucher from a friend so she could look “alive” for her daughter.
I helped her prepare for a job interview. She got the job—plus temporary housing. Months later, she handed me an envelope with $300 and a hug.
Today, she has a “Pay It Forward” tip jar at her new job, helping others the way she wished someone had helped her sooner.
I didn’t just get my money back.
I got a lesson in grace—and the privilege of witnessing a comeback.
