The heat that Tuesday was relentless. As I sat on the porch, my five-year-old son Eli watched a mailman struggle down the street, bent under his bag and pausing often to catch his breath. Neighbors muttered cruel judgments, but Eli squeezed my hand and asked why people were being so mean to someone just doing his job.

When the mailman finally reached us, Eli ran inside and returned with a cold cup of water and his favorite chocolate bar. He handed them over without hesitation, explaining simply that hard work deserves kindness. The man’s eyes filled as he thanked Eli, crouching to tell him he’d made his whole day.

The next afternoon, that same man arrived outside Eli’s preschool—this time in a pristine white suit, stepping out of a red Bugatti. He explained he was a philanthropist who walks a mail route each year to remember his roots. Eli’s kindness, given without expectation, had meant more to him than any handshake he’d received in years.

Weeks later, a letter and a $25,000 check arrived for Eli’s future. But the real gift wasn’t the money. It was watching my son ask for more cups, already planning to help the next tired stranger. A child with ice water reminded a man with everything—and all of us—that kindness is the greatest wealth there is.