SMALL INTERACTION ON BRIDGE

After serving five and a half years in confinement, I emerged from prison feeling shattered and directionless. The world had moved forward, leaving me behind in a state of despair. I felt like a failure in every aspect of my life, and it led me to depression and suicidal thoughts.

One night, I found myself on a bridge, ready to end it all. As I looked down at the water below, I noticed a young boy around eight years old, wearing torn clothes and carrying a backpack, staring up at me. He didn't smile with his lips, but his eyes held a glimmer of hope that stopped me in my tracks.

Feeling defeated, I got down from the railing and sat on the ground with my head in my hands. The little boy approached me and sat beside me, offering me a partially eaten candy bar. He told me that it always made him happy when he was feeling low.

I was surprised that an eight-year-old child could feel depressed, but I was moved by his kindness. I asked him why he was out on the streets, but he didn't answer. Instead, he handed me a piece of paper and requested that I not read it until later. He then disappeared into the night, and I didn't even get to ask his name.

I put the paper in my pocket and slept by the bridge, using the candy bar as my only dinner, thinking about the little boy and why he had given me his only source of happiness.

The next morning, I got awakened by police sirens and gathered crowed on the bridge. As I approached the crowd, I saw the same backpack lying on the ground. My heart raced, fearing something had happened to the little boy who had given me his candy bar. I pushed my way through the throng of people, desperately searching for him.

Finally, I saw him lying on the ground, surrounded by paramedics. Tears streamed down my face as I realized that this child, who had shown me such kindness and hope, was now in danger.

I rushed to his side, and he looked at me with the same hopeful eyes. The paramedics took him to the hospital, and I followed closely behind.

Hours passed as I sat in the waiting room, praying for his recovery. Finally, a doctor came out and told me that the little boy was going to be okay, but he needed rest and recovery.

In that moment, I remembered the piece of paper he had given me. I pulled it out of my pocket and read the words, "You're not alone." Those words hit me hard, and I broke down in tears. This child, who had been dealt such a tough hand in life, had still found a way to offer me hope and comfort.

From that day on, I was inspired to live my life in a way that honored the little boy's kindness. I began volunteering at a local shelter for children, hoping to give back some of the hope and comfort that had been given to me.

Years have passed since that day on the bridge, but the impact of that small moment has stayed with me. It taught me that even in the darkest of times, there is still hope and goodness to be found. And it showed me that sometimes, the smallest act of kindness can have the biggest impact.

After volunteering for months at the shelter, I was drawn to a little boy who reminded me of the one who had saved my life years ago. I discovered that his name was Alex, and he had been through more in his eight years than most people experience in a lifetime.

I became a mentor to Alex, and over time, we developed a deep bond. He reminded me of the little boy who had given me his candy bar on the bridge and inspired me to keep going.