Maybe compassion should not wait for explanation.
All I know is this: the day that boy pointed at my stomach, I thought he was attacking me.
He was actually trying to save me.
And the greatest shame of my life was not that I almost believed him.
It was that I almost refused to listen simply because truth came from a child the world had already dismissed.
That experience taught me something I will never forget.
Not every dirty child on the street is empty.
Not every strange warning is madness.
And not everyone who looks broken has nothing to offer.
Sometimes the people we are quickest to judge are carrying the very message that can keep us alive.
And sometimes, the miracle is not just surviving what almost destroyed you.
Sometimes the miracle is what your survival teaches you to become.
