I stepped into the bakery with an empty stomach and an even emptier heart. I was only eight years old and couldnt remember the last time Id eaten a hot meal.
Miss could you spare just a bit of bread, even if its stale? I asked, my voice shaking.
The woman looked me up and down before pointing to the door.
Get out of here, you little brat! Go earn your keep like everyone else! she snapped, wiping the counter.
A lump rose in my throat as I began to back away, but a deep voice cut through the tension.
Excuse me, madam! An elderly man who had been shopping turned sharply. Cant you see hes just a child?
Then his parents should look after him, she shot back, annoyed.
I hung my head, wishing I could vanish. But the man crouched down and placed a hand on my shoulder.
Dont worry, lad. Come on, Ill get you something.
That day, he took me to his homegave me soup, a warm bed, and most importantly, a place where I didnt feel like rubbish.
Ive no grandchildren, he said with a smile. Fancy being mine?
I bit my lip to stop the tears and nodded.
Yes, Grandad.
Years passed, and that old man became my family, my strength, my reason to study. He made me promise that one day, Id help others just as hed helped me.
Time flew, and one evening, now a doctor, I was called urgently to the hospital. A woman was bleeding out in surgery. When I entered and saw her on the table, my blood ran coldit was the baker.
As I operated, I remembered her sharp words that day, but also the warmth of Grandads hand pulling me from the streets. And then I understood.
Hours later, she woke.
You you saved my life? she whispered, eyes glistening.
I met her gaze calmly.
Yes, I did. Because once, someone believed I deserved a second chance.
She broke down sobbing. I simply smiled, knowing somewhere in heaven, my grandad was proud.
