yard, I think about the old one behind my childhood home.

I think about the boy who led his parents outside hoping they would finally see him.

I wish I could go back and tell him the truth.

The truth is that some people only look up when success appears in a language they respect.

That was the biggest red flag in my family—not that my parents failed to love me, but that they mistook prestige for worth for so long they could not recognize love unless it looked impressive from the street.

I do not know whether they would have apologized if Kyle had never driven past my property.

Maybe yes.

Maybe no.

That question still lingers some evenings.

But I do know this: my daughter will never have to build something beautiful and wonder whether it counts.

The first time she holds out her hands and says, Look what I made, she will already know the answer.