Rejected by her mother! Severely dehydrated, malnourished… will it be a miracle?

Rejected by her mother! Severely dehydrated, malnourished… will it be a miracle?

Thank you for giving him the love and care he needed. I can see the little mite moving around. So sorry little one You are in God’s Garden of Paradise. Runfree little one and Rest in Peace. I weep for you my precious.

As we drove, she told me her story. She had run away from home, and had been living on the streets for weeks. She had no family, no friends, and no place to go. She was alone and scared, and she didn’t know what to do.

My heart ached for her. I couldn’t imagine what it must be like to be so alone and vulnerable in the bone-crying cold. I knew that I had to do something to help her.

I decided to take her to a nearby shelter, where she could get a warm bed to sleep in, a hot meal to eat, and the support she needed to get back on her feet. I could tell that she was hesitant at first, but I promised her that it was a safe place, and that she would be well taken care of.

As we pulled up to the shelter, she looked at me with tears in her eyes. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for helping me.”

I walked her inside, and together we spoke to the staff. They welcomed her with open arms, and promised to do everything they could to help her. They took her belongings, gave her a warm coat, and showed her to her room.

It was a frigid winter evening, and I was driving home from work. The roads were slick with ice, and my windshield was fogging up from the heat blasting from my car’s vents. As I made my way down the road, my eyes scanned the darkness ahead of me, searching for any signs of danger.

And then I saw her. A small figure darted out in front of my car, darting across the road with lightning-fast speed. I slammed on the brakes, my heart pounding in my chest, and watched in horror as the figure stumbled and fell to the ground.

Without thinking, I jumped out of my car and ran over to where the figure lay. It was a young woman, no more than twenty years old, dressed in a thin jacket and tattered jeans. She looked up at me with wide, pleading eyes, and then she spoke in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

“Please help me,” she said. “I have nowhere to go.”

I could feel the bone-crying cold in my bones, but my heart ached for her. I knew that I couldn’t leave her out in the cold, exposed to the elements and in danger from passing cars. I had to do something to help her.