For the past three years, his entire world had narrowed to his eight-year-old son, Ethan, who had lost the use of his legs in a devastating car accident.
Since then, the boy had stopped laughing, stopped playing, barely touched his food. Each day, Richard watched his child fade and felt powerless to stop it.
One evening, Richard left a meeting early and arrived home unexpectedly. As he stepped inside, he froze. From the living room came a sound he hadn’t heard in months—pure, carefree laughter.
He followed it and stopped short. The new housekeeper, Maria, hired just two weeks earlier, was kneeling on the floor beside Ethan. The boy was laughing so hard he could barely breathe.
“What is going on here?” Richard demanded.
Maria jumped up, rubbing her hands on her apron, fear flashing across her face. “Mr. Cole, I can explain—”
“Dad!” Ethan interrupted, beaming. “Aunt Maria showed me some exercises. Look!”
With intense concentration, Ethan managed to move his right foot—only slightly, but more than he had in months.
Richard’s legs nearly gave out. “That can’t be possible,” he whispered.