The night of the accident was pizza night. We’d just pulled in when the phone rang—Micah’s best friend Zayden had lost both parents in a crash. No warning. Just gone.
Micah stood frozen. “Where will Zayden go?” he whispered.
At the hospital, Zayden ran into Micah’s arms. “He can live with us,” Micah said. But the system said no—foster care came first.
What Micah didn’t know was we were working behind the scenes: paperwork, training, background checks. Months later, we called him outside—Zayden was in the driveway with his teddy bear. Micah ran to him. “You’re staying?” “For good,” I said.
Life seemed okay at first. But trauma crept in—nightmares, fear of cars, hiding from loud noises. Micah never left his side. “I made a promise,” he said. “To God. I’d protect him forever.”
We got them both into therapy. Slowly, healing began.
Then came a twist: Zayden’s aunt Helena reached out. She brought photos, stories, and kindness. Zayden chose to stay with us but visit her on holidays. Micah was scared but understood.
Years passed. One day, Zayden gave Micah his teddy bear.
“You held onto me when I couldn’t,” he said. “Now you can let go.”
Micah cried—but this time, it was the healing kind.
Sometimes, a 9-year-old promise is stronger than anything.
