When I was 15, my mom Cathy — “the Cookie Lady” — was fired from Beller’s Bakery for giving leftover muffins to a homeless veteran. Her new boss, Derek, called it theft. She came home in tears, saying, “I have more good in me than he has power.”
A decade later, I founded a food-tech company that partners with bakeries to donate surplus food. While hiring, Derek’s resume landed on my desk. He didn’t recognize me. In the interview, he even bragged about firing “an older woman” for giving away baked goods.
I told him: “That older woman was my mother.” His smirk vanished. I ended the interview: “No job here — but a shelter could use someone who knows day-old muffins.”
When I called Mom, she laughed softly. “You didn’t do it for me,” she said. “You did it for the kid who saw his mom cry.” She was right. Today, she leads our outreach team — still handing out bread with the same gentle smile.
