Page 45 of Remain

– Keep it anonymous, always

– Let help feel like dignity

– Don’t let it become a spectacle

– One cart can change everything

I close my eyes, and the spark hits all at once, like something clicking into place after waiting patiently to be seen.

The Christmas Kindness Drive doesn’t need to be bigger in presence. It needs to be bigger in reach.

It needs structure and systems, a story told the right way. A way for people to give without needing recognition, and a way for families to receive without ever feeling watched or measured. Something that honors the quiet dignity my mother believed in, the kind of generosity that doesn’t announce itself.

My pulse quickens as the shape of it begins to form.

I grab a pen.

On a clean page, I write:

The Christmas Kindness Drive —

Expansion Ideas

And underneath it, in my own handwriting this time:

– Digital coordination

– Donor privacy

– Neighboring towns

– Year-round support

– Keep Diane’s rules intact

I stop, pen hovering mid-word.

Diane’s rules.

The name looks right on the page, not for branding or polish, but for lineage. For the way I want to remember her, and the way I want her kindness to keep moving forward.

My phone buzzes against the desk, sharp in the quiet.

It’s Erik.

If I know you, you got off the plane, made a cup of coffee and got right to work. Just checking in, home safe? How are you feeling other than exhausted?

I smile, soft and unguarded, and type back.

You do know me well, Mr. Beaumont. Better than I know myself sometimes. Yes, I am home. It feels… different.

Three dots appear.

Different good or different scary?

I glance at my mother’s notebook open beside me. At the page filling with ideas that feel less like pressure and more like permission.

Different like something’s starting.