With Magnolia, it started small: a thrown soda can into her rose bushes, laughter echoing as petals crumpled. Then came louder taunts—“Hey, grandma, shall we mow your lawn?” Jokes escalated to stomping across her garden at night, crushing a row of tulips she’d nurtured for years. Each act left even her neighbors seething on her behalf.
Though they tried Magnolia’s patience, she took it in her stride. She wrote letters to the school in tidy cursive, offered the boys cupcakes she baked for the annual fair, and even learned two of their names—Trevor and Malik. In return, they made fun of her old shapeless gardening hat and called her rude names.