I gave 100 euros to a young woman who was asking for milk for her baby; a month later I found out who she really was.

Her name, although we didn’t know it yet, was Lucia.

She was wearing sweatpants, an oversized jacket, and her hair was haphazardly pulled back. The  baby was asleep, wrapped in a gray blanket.

When she asked for help, Alberto didn’t even ask what had happened.

He just looked her up and down and decided he knew her whole life.

After I handed her the money, Lucia looked at me in surprise.

—Ma’am, I don’t need that much.

—Buy what you need for the child.

—I can give you back the rest.

—It’s not necessary.

Then he did something I still remember.

He took a pen out of his backpack and wrote something on the back of a receipt.