Benjamin had a hard day. The demons that hold him captive were in full regalia, pounding him with accusations about past crimes. It is hard to be his protector when the foes are invisible, and perhaps intractable, but I tried to smile and make conversation. Which works infrequently enough to be like those intermittent reinforcement experiments that keep exhausted rats pressing the food bar until they drop. 

Then a yellow van with a honeybee painted along the side pulled into the driveway. A kind person walked to the door and handed me a chocolate cake. The box had the words, "You are so loved".

"It's anonymous," she explained. I was speechless. But my arms still worked so I hugged her. 

Ben likes cake and was interested in this surprising delivery. 

"Want a piece?" I asked. 

"Whose is it?" he was curious. 

"I don't know who it is from! But it's for us." I laughed. 

"It's a mystery," he mumbled as he cut a slice. 

As I bit into the sweet, moist chocolate I remembered the story about a basket of raspberries with a note saying "Because you are loved" appearing on the door handle. It would not have worked to suspend this treat with a ribbon, and was glad it didn't end up on the floor. 

The magic of being blessed without a name attached felt like the yummiest dessert I could imagine. In fact, a couple of days later I can still taste it.