Four months earlier, I’d lost my husband to cancer before he could meet our baby boy. Life since had been exhaustion and grief—but that abandoned child cracked something open in me again. That night, I got a call: “This is about the baby you found. Please come to this address.” It was the same building where I cleaned offices.
The man waiting there told me the baby was his grandson—his son’s wife had left him on that bench. “If you hadn’t stopped,” he said, voice breaking, “I’d have lost him too.” Weeks later, he offered me a new job and a chance to build a better life. I studied at night, earned my HR certification, and helped create a “family corner” in the office—a place for working parents.
Saving that baby didn’t just change his fate. It gave me purpose, hope, and a new beginning.
