I encountered a solitary young boy at the station who requested my assistance in locating his parents.

While Rachel was at the metro station waiting for her friend Mia, she noticed a little boy who seemed lost. When she approached him, she quickly realized there was more to his situation than met the eye.

I stood on the platform at the metro station, checking my phone repeatedly. My friend Mia was always tardy, but today she was really taking her time. We had plans to hit up a thrift store to find outfits for a party coming up.

In an attempt to pass the time, I scoured my surroundings and noticed a little boy.

He couldn’t have been older than seven or eight, sitting alone on a bench. His eyes were wide, and he was clutching a worn stuffed bunny.

I never thought of myself as maternal, but something about him pulled at my heartstrings.

“Hey there,” I said as I walked over. “Are you lost? Are you waiting for someone?”

The boy looked up at me, hope and fear mingling in his eyes.

“I can’t find my parents,” he whispered. “I don’t know where to go, so I’m just sitting here.”

My heart went out to him.

“Do you want me to help you find them? We could go to the police and ask for help.”

The boy’s eyes widened in panic.

“No! Please don’t go to the police!” he exclaimed, becoming visibly anxious.

I sat down beside him, trying to soothe his nerves.

“Why not?” I asked gently. “They can help us.”

“Because the police are looking for my parents,” he said sadly. “Sometimes they have to steal food to feed me. Because of that, the police are after them. We’re not bad people… we just need help.”

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