The Sweetest Lessons Came in a Red Wagon
From a painful loss to a community treasure: how one mother's daycare became a place where children earned confidence, one malasada at a time.
Preface: How the Kailua Kids Club Began
Before I can tell this story, I have to explain why it mattered so much to me.
I became a stay-at-home mom after one of my children was abused by a babysitter. That experience broke my trust and made me determined to create a safe, loving place where my children—and eventually other children—could feel protected and cared for.
Out of that pain, I opened my own daycare in our small town of Kailua on the island of Oahu, Hawaiʻi. I called it Aunty Fran's Daycare, and I even wrote a monthly newsletter to share updates, little stories, and what the children were learning.
It was fun for me, but it also meant a great deal to the parents. Through those newsletters, they could stay connected to the small milestones they might have missed during the day—first steps, first words, and all the little moments that make childhood so precious.
At the time, I had two children in elementary and middle school and two toddlers at home. Soon, my older children's friends began coming over after school to play, grab snacks, and do homework. Little by little, all of these kids ended up in my yard, and our home became a gathering place.
During the school year, it was manageable. The children had eaten lunch at school and usually stayed for only a couple of hours after class. But summer was different. Summer meant full days spent in and out of my yard, with hungry kids needing snacks, meals, and something meaningful to do.
I loved having them there, but I knew I needed a way to keep everyone fed without carrying the entire cost myself.
That is how the Kailua Kids Club was born: a way for children to do something constructive, contribute to their community, earn money honestly, and learn the value of working together.
The Sweetest Lessons Came in a Red Wagon
One of my favorite memories from the Kailua Kids Club happened during summer vacation, when the children learned some of life's sweetest lessons with a little red wagon and a cooler full of warm malasadas.
Before the sun came up, I would make dozens of fresh Portuguese doughnuts called malasadas. I'd fill a large cooler with the warm pastries, load it into a little red wagon, and hand each child sandwich bags and a pair of tongs so they could package and serve the malasadas.
When everything was ready, they would set off together through our hometown of Kailua.
To anyone watching, it may have looked like they were simply selling malasadas. But I knew they were learning something much deeper.
During those summer months, they visited local businesses, where owners came to know them by name. Some shop owners even looked forward to their summertime visits, planning their morning coffee around the arrival of the children and their fresh malasadas. Over time, it became a tradition the community embraced.
The money they earned became more than spending money. It helped pay for summer activities, trips to the county fair, school clothes, school supplies, and even gave them a chance to save a little for the future.
More importantly, they discovered that earning something for yourself feels different from simply being given it.
They learned how to introduce themselves with confidence, speak respectfully with business owners, count money, make change, work as a team, and save for a rainy day instead of spending everything they earned. Looking back, I realize we were teaching life skills disguised as summer fun.
Those children discovered that hard work creates opportunity, that communities thrive when neighbors support one another, and that success is sweetest when it is earned.
But what made those summer vacation months truly special was not just the malasadas or the money the children earned. It was the people of Kailua.
The local businesses were not just buying doughnuts; they were encouraging children. Every purchase was their way of saying, "We believe in you." They were investing in the next generation, one warm malasada at a time.
Those business owners helped the children build confidence, learn responsibility, and discover the pride that comes from honest work. Together, we created more than a fundraiser. We created a community where children knew they were seen, valued, and supported.
Every time I watched that little red wagon roll down the street surrounded by smiling children, I was not just watching kids sell malasadas.
I was watching an entire community come together to teach its young people that they mattered.
Sometimes the greatest lessons in life do not happen in a classroom. Sometimes they begin with a warm malasada, a little red wagon, and a community that quietly says, "We believe in you. You belong here."
