I was pregnant with my first son when I read To Kill a Mockingbird, and the more I read the harder I prayed that my unborn child might one day be just like my hero.

During the following years, nobody could ever have mistaken my little family with the Cleavers. We experienced our share of life's ups and downs: tragedy, grief, disappointment and even divorce, but we survived. Often it was impossible for us to see eye-to-eye. It was hard, real hard, to always look for the good in one another so we failed as often as we succeeded.

We were a family growing together and sometimes apart during one of the most turbulent times in the history of our country. I reminded my sons that even in bad times we, the people, make up the structure of our family much like we, the people, frame the core of our nation.

Today I often wonder if I might have "marked" my unborn son while reading To Kill a Mockingbird, because he grew up to become a small town lawyer much like my hero in the book. How great is that?

Last year, he told me that he was representing a much loved African American retired teacher in a lawsuit. He was all worked up and angry as he talked about it.

"Miss Annie, because she's so kind, took in a homeless girl, sheltered and fed her and even tried to help her find work," he said.

I looked into his eyes where the depth of his soul can be found and easily saw his indignation. "Sounds to me like Miss Annie is a good woman. That was a fine thing for her to do, so what went wrong?"

Unable to shake his concern he said, "That girl went through her things and stole an old bank book. Not even a month later, she wrote a bad check on Miss Annie's account and it was cashed without question."

"No," I said, alarmed for a woman I had never even met. "That's horrible. What happened then?"

He sighed. "Miss Annie didn't know one thing about identity theft; she had never even thought about it until the store manager called. When he informed her that she was responsible, she explained that she had closed that account two years ago. He told her not to worry about it, that he'd look into it."

A few weeks went by before three more checks were passed in Miss Annie's name at the same store. Living on a fixed income, she couldn't afford to pay for the bad checks; she could ill afford to lose a dime of it. Again, she tried to explain this to the store manager, and as before, he promised to take care of it.

Three months went by and she was at home for only a day following gall bladder surgery, when two county policemen showed up with a warrant for her arrest.

"I just came home from the hospital," she explained. "I'm sick and I need my medicine."

They said, "That's too bad because there's no way we can let you take medicine with you to jail, prescribed or not."

Although she pleaded in vain, in the end they carted her off to jail while her entire neighborhood watched in horror. She was arraigned the next morning clad in the nightgown she had been wearing the day before.

When my son got wind of what happened, he was furious. Wanting to help in any way he could, he bailed her out, offered to defend her at no charge and made sure she would not spend another night behind bars. He told her she should sue the retail store for damages and she told him to go for it.

As is usually the case in our system of justice these days, it took a while before the suit was brought before a judge. Since Miss Annie meant nothing to the retail chain involved, they were eager settle out of court. They made her an offer while hinting at the possibility of a long trial unless she accepted the chunk of money they were prepared to give her.

My son spoke up. "Miss Annie has lived a good life, set a fine example for her students as well as others in her community. The accusation against her was not only painful, but humiliating. Her own church congregation shunned her when she was arrested; her neighbors were angry for the same reason. Miss Annie deserves better, so I suggest you people come back with a serious offer, one to help make up for the damage to her reputation. We'll talk then."

Meanwhile, upon further investigation, an identify theft ring was found to be operating in the store that had cashed all of the bad checks passed in Miss Annie's name. The perpetrators were eventually caught and arrested.

A few weeks later, my phone rang. "Mom, you'll be happy to know that we settled Miss Annie's case today."

Relieved, I said, "Oh, honey, that's wonderful. Is she okay with how things turned out?"

"Yes ma'am, she's happy. In fact, I just spoke with her a few minutes ago."

"And?"

He chuckled. "First, I told her to sit down because I had some news. After that, I told her that the court had awarded her a million and a half dollars."

"Holy Cow!" I exclaimed. "That's awesome! What did she say to that?"

When he spoke, his voice was husky, full of emotion. "She said, 'Praise the Lord. I've got enough money now to put a new roof on our church. We've been needing one for such a long time. God works in mysterious ways, his wonders to perform.' "

He paused. "Even after they turned their backs on her when she needed them the most, she still wants to give thousands of dollars to her church."

We were both quiet for a few minutes, words being too inadequate to express our emotions.

With tears freefalling down my face, I finally broke the silence. "What a wonderful ending to this story," I said.

A son or daughter who takes on the most powerful retail chain in the world would make any parent proud, but when my boy stood up for someone unable to defend herself, proud doesn't come close to describing how I felt.

The way Miss Annie handled her troubles, as difficult as they had to have been for her, was a testament to grace and forgiveness, an invaluable lesson for everyone involved. At the same time, my son unknowingly taught me a lesson in doing the right thing when he stood up for a retired school teacher and helped to restore her dignity and her standing in the community.

Move over, Atticus Finch. It might be forty years later, but I have a new hero now and he reminds me a lot of you.