A few months later, William’s foundation helped its first family.
She was a young mother with two small children who was about to lose her apartment.
When I told her that six months of her rent had been paid, she started crying.
I knew that cry.
Years earlier, I had cried the same way in William’s kitchen.
And in that moment, I finally understood what William had truly left me.
Not simply a house.
Not money.
He had given me the chance to do for someone else what someone had once done for me.
And maybe that was his real inheritance.