After Losing My Newborn Son, I Gave Everything I Bought Him to a Mother in Need—The Next Morning, My Lawn Was Covered With Dozens of Strollers, Each Holding a Sealed Box

third letter began: We lost twins. The fourth: I never thought I’d survive burying my little girl.

By the sixth stroller, I could barely see through my own tears. The strollers didn’t look eerie to me anymore. They looked sacred. Someone had gathered all of this grief in one single place, on my lawn, in the early morning light. But none of the letters continue reading …