The woman stood, her thin arm wrapped around her chubby, filthy baby. The kid had dried snot on his face, a dazed look in his eyes and a disposable diaper that looked like it should have been changed hours ago. It sagged from his body as though the mom was smuggling a day’s worth of groceries in it.
Her hands shook as she pulled out her coin purse. The woman behind her let out a heavy sigh, her perfectly coiffed hair standing tall, waving as the woman huffed again. She whispered none too quietly.
“Some people just shouldn’t even have kids if they can’t take care of them.”
Another couple behind them murmured in agreement, causing the young mom to blink back tears. She looked at the diapers and formula on the conveyor belt. They were necessary things. She couldn’t just leave.
Counting through her coins, quarters, pennies, nickels, she was coming up short. Digging through her pockets, she tried in vain to find the five-dollar bill she was sure she’d tucked away in her shorts last night.
Stifling a sob, she stared at the belt. The diapers or the formula? She could probably just use some old clothes as a diaper. The formula, that was necessary, though. She switched the baby to her other hip, hoping to try her pockets on more time.
The baby grunted as she settled on her hip and she felt the obvious wetness spreading along her shirt. The diaper was giving up.
Pressing her mouth closed, she handed the diapers to the cashier and shook her head.
The cashier looked at the diapers, then at the child in the woman’s arms. His mouth curled in disgust.
It was all too much. The woman pushed the coins across the counter and grabbed the formula. It would have to do.
Tucking the can under her arm, she started for the door.
“Wait, ma’am, you dropped this!” A well-dressed woman had called out to her. The young mom turned, wondering what she’d messed up this time.
The woman was holding out a twenty-dollar bill.
“That’s not mine,” The mom said, knowing she hadn’t even seen a twenty in far too long.
“Yes, it fell out of your pocket when you were looking for something. It’s yours.” The woman pressed it into her hand.
A tiny dose of hope.
This is my freewrite for 
