The sky hung low with gray clouds as John raced toward the city, his German Shepherd, Barbara, dozing beside him. After two hours on the road, he spotted a slow-moving car ahead. As he approached, its rear door opened and something was tossed out. The car sped away.
John pulled over, heart pounding. Wrapped in a filthy blanket, bound by rope, was a small, trembling child—soaked and barely conscious. He rushed the boy into his car, covering him with his jacket. Barbara gently licked the boy’s cheek.
An ambulance arrived just in time. At the station, officers believed the boy matched a missing child from a foster case. “If you hadn’t stopped, he wouldn’t have survived,” an officer said.
The next day, the boy was stable. John sat in silence, realizing how a simple choice to notice—to care—could change a life. That night, he knew: he was meant to be there.