The Weight of Love in a Worn Coat
When Jonah was a boy, winter always came with the same ritual: his mother pulling an old, oversized coat from the hook by the door and placing it gently over his shoulders. It was heavy, frayed at the cuffs, and far from the polished jackets the other boys wore. He hated it. “Mom, it’s ugly,” he complained once, cheeks burning when classmates snickered. “Why can’t I have a new one like everyone…














