In the quiet corner of the shelter, little Lily sat all alone—eyes wide, chest rising and falling with each shaky breath. Her tiny body was curled up, tears rolling down her soft cheeks. Around her, the world moved on. But not Mom Libby—she had walked away, again.
Lily had tried following her, calling out in her sweet baby voice. “Eeeh! Eeeeh!” she cried, reaching out with desperate little hands. But Libby had no interest. Whether it was stress, confusion, or rejection—her mother had turned cold.
The other babies had warmth. They had milk. They had arms to cling to.
Lily had only her cries—and even those seemed to echo back unanswered.
As the minutes passed, her cries grew louder. Her little heart didn’t understand. She had done nothing wrong. She only wanted love, a cuddle, a moment of being held. But instead, she was left behind, again and again.
Then a gentle hand reached down.
One of the caregivers heard her pain. She scooped Lily up, wrapped her in a blanket, and whispered, “I’ve got you now.” Lily sniffled, still unsure—but the warmth made her heart beat a little steadier.
In that moment, the pain didn’t vanish—but hope began.
