At 2:17 a.m., I answered what I thought would be a routine welfare check. Instead, I found a tiny, freezing baby crying beside his collapsed mother in a dilapidated apartment. Two years after losing my own wife and daughter in a fire, my heart shattered again—but this time, I acted.
I wrapped the infant against my chest, fed him, and promised he was safe. The paramedics took his mother, and soon I began the adoption process. That baby, Beau, became my son. Raising him wasn’t easy, but his laughter, curiosity, and fearless spirit healed parts of me I thought were gone forever.
Sixteen years later, Beau, now a high school star, gave me a medal at an awards ceremony. He credited me for shaping his life, saying, “Dad, you saved me first.”
Some calls end a shift. That night began a lifetime.