When my babysitter canceled, I had to bring my four-year-old son, Micah, to work at a little café.
I put him up in a booth while I took care of the dinner rush because he was so anxious to wear his firefighter outfit. But he was gone when I looked up. When I eventually located him sobbing in a firefighter’s arms after searching the diner, panic struck.
“It’s okay,” Micah answered, looking up. They were spared by you. You are a hero, according to my father. I discovered that the firefighter had been a close friend of my late spouse. Micah had unwittingly established a close bond.
The firefighter handed Micah a silver badge that had formerly belonged to my husband before departing. Micah pledged to hold onto it indefinitely.