My heart went out to him, a boy no older than seven. Leading him inside, I offered a glass of water and a seat. As he drank, I noticed the dirt on his face and weariness in his eyes. “Where do you live, Tommy? Do you know your address?” I asked gently. He shook his head. “I was with my uncle, but he… he said he couldn’t take care of me anymore. He left me on the street.”
The situation was worse than I imagined. A million questions raced through my mind, but ensuring Tommy’s safety was the priority. I held off on calling the police, not wanting to scare him further. “Tommy, we’ll figure this out,” I reassured him. “First, let’s get you cleaned up and fed.”
After a bath and a hot meal, Tommy seemed more at ease. He even managed a small smile. I called a friend from social services, who agreed to come over and assist. While waiting, I gently probed for more information. Tommy mentioned his mother’s name, Lisa, and a few details of his life before ending up on the streets—a heartbreaking tale of neglect and abandonment.
