The idea came from Noah.
“Let’s make posters,” he suggested. “Like when Mrs. Jenkins lost her dog.”
They had no photo, so Michael hired an artist to sketch Charlie’s face. Flyers appeared across the city.
A woman eventually told them, “There’s a boy like that under the Riverside Bridge.”
Michael rushed there. Beneath the bridge, volunteers handed out soup. And there was Charlie, sitting cross-legged beside other children.
“Mr. Michael!” Charlie beamed, hugging him.
Michael knelt and held him tightly.
“I’ve been looking everywhere.”
Charlie introduced the others—Ben, Lily, Mason. Children hardened by circumstances too heavy for their years. A volunteer named Mrs. Harper explained that Charlie shared everything he received.
“He always gives first,” she said.
Michael listened to stories of fear and abandonment. Something inside him shifted permanently.
Visits turned into routine. Food, blankets, time. Social workers became involved. After long discussions, Michael and Emily decided to foster. Noah grinned.
“I want to share my room.”
Margaret nodded with quiet pride.