THREE LITTLE BOYS ON THE CURB
Ariel came to a sudden stop on the sidewalk. A tired-looking father was seated on the curb beside three small boys and a cardboard sign asking for food. The triplets were filthy, their faces streaked with tears, and one of them shivered from the cold. Pedestrians passed by as if the four of them didn’t exist. Someone even knocked over their coin cup, sending loose change skittering across the concrete.
Ariel’s throat tightened. “Lord… they’re just children,” she murmured.
She moved closer, her voice trembling but steady. “Sir, why are your babies out here? Where’s their mother?”
The man slowly raised his head—and something deep inside Ariel tugged sharply, like a memory she didn’t know she carried.
One of the boys, his voice barely louder than the breeze, begged, “Ma’am… please don’t leave us.”
Ariel sucked in a breath. She couldn’t explain why it felt like her heart already recognized those children.
