My Teen Son Sold His Guitar to Buy a New Wheelchair for His Classmate – The Next Day, Officers Showed up at Our Door
“David?” I called.
“Yeah, Mom?” he yelled from the kitchen.
That was my first mistake.
“Where’s your guitar, son?”
“Mom,” he said, appearing in the doorway to his room. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you…”
“David, what’s going on?”
He lowered his eyes. “I sold my guitar, Mom.”
“You did what?!”
I set the basket down on the floor because my hands had gone weak. “Why would you do that? That guitar meant everything to you.”
He swallowed. “It did. But Emily needed a new wheelchair.”
“David, what’s going on?”
I just stared at him.
“Her old chair was barely working,” he said quickly. “The wheels kept sticking, and she kept pretending she was fine, but she wasn’t. She missed lunch twice last week because it took too long to get across the building.”
“David…”
But I couldn’t get a word in. Once he’d started speaking, there was no stopping him.
“Her family doesn’t have money for a new one right now.” His voice got smaller. “So I sold the guitar.”
I sat down on the edge of his bed without meaning to.
“Her old chair was barely working.”
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