Keys on the Wall

Three sets of keys, resting in a row—
a quiet testament to trust,
to years stitched together
by schoolyard laughter and shared lives.

Once, we were strangers—
linked by backpacks, drop-offs, and passing smiles.
But over time,
through after-school chatter and shared snacks,
we built something stronger than routine.

What began as playdates
became quiet gestures of trust:
a borrowed key,
a “can you grab the mail?”,
a knowing nod that says
I’ve got you, while you’re away.

Now, I’m trusted to care for the corners they call home—
water their gardens,
greet pets like familiar friends,
make sure everything is tended and safe.

I don’t take that trust for granted.
It means more than they know—
and if the roles were ever reversed,
I know they’d do the same for me.

These keys don’t just unlock doors—
they open hearts,
they open the kind of care
that says:
You’re not alone. We’re in this together.

Because it takes a village—
and somehow, beautifully,
we became one.

ALD