The Night Two Barefoot Boys Changed My Perspective in The Savory Oak’s Quiet Corner

I sat alone at a corner table in The Savory Oak, a ritzy downtown restaurant where I often met clients after work hours. It was just past seven on a Thursday evening, and the room was humming with quiet conversations, the clinking of cutlery against fine china.

My filet mignon arrived, perfectly cooked, alongside a glass of red wine I had no intention of touching right now.

My attention was absorbed in a stack of papers I’d brought—routine case files I was supposed to review.