One Halloween, I had to bring my four-year-old son, Micah, to work at the diner after the babysitter canceled. During the dinner rush, I noticed he was missing.
In a panic, I searched for him, only to find him in the arms of a firefighter, who was quietly crying. Micah looked up and said, “It’s okay. You saved them. My daddy says you’re a hero.”
The firefighter was visibly shaken, and I learned he had been close to my late husband, a firefighter who had passed away the previous year. He whispered, “He was my best friend.” Micah, oblivious to the deeper meaning, smiled and said, “Daddy says you did your best.”
Moved by the moment, the firefighter gave Micah his father’s old badge and said, “He’d be so proud of both of you.”
Later that night, as Micah held the badge, he asked, “Mommy, Daddy’s still watching, right?” I kissed his forehead, realizing that love never truly fades, and sometimes, a child’s faith can remind us that we’re never alone.
