You need a place to live, and I need a mom. That afternoon, the rain wouldn’t stop. It beat against the bus stop shelter like fingers that couldn’t wait. Sophie, who was 23 years old and had no coat or luggage, was sitting on the cold bench with only a frayed backpack and a paper coffee cup half full of coins.
She had been homeless for six months, and each day ran into the next. Each night was colder than the last. Her reflection in the glass showed eyes that looked tired and hair that had lost its shine a long time ago. She was looking at the puddles when a small voice came through the storm.
Hey. You look freezing. Sophie turned.
A girl, maybe seven, stood there with a pink umbrella that was far too big for her. She had chestnut braids, bright green eyes, and a smile that made you want to know more. I’m fine.
Sophie was lying; she was just waiting for the bus. The girl turned her head and looked at her for a long time before saying something that made Sophie gasp. I need a mommy, and you need a home.
Sophie stopped. She looked around, thinking a parent would be close by. A man in his late 30s wearing a tailored suit and carrying two grocery bags was walking toward them, just as they had thought.
Lila, what did I tell you about talking to people you don’t know? His voice was strong but not mean when he said it. But, Daddy, the girl said, she looks sad and alone. The man sighed. He was clearly used to his daughter saying what she thought.
Come on, we need to leave. Lila, on the other hand, wouldn’t budge. Please, Daddy, can she come home with us? Sophie laughed a little, but it was awkward…
That’s lovely, but then she saw the father look at her again. He looked at her wet clothes for a while, then at the paper cup. He didn’t feel sorry for him; he recognized him.
You are… Sophie, is that you? You used to work at Miller’s Cafe. Sophie blinked and said, “Yeah, I…” You used to come in every morning for a cappuccino. He nodded slowly, and I thought you had left.
Sophie wasn’t sure what to do. Things just happened. I lost my job and then my apartment. The man’s jaw tightened, and no one helped you.
Sophie smiled through the pain. I’ll be fine, really. But then Lila put her little hand in Sophie’s. She whispered, “I think you’re already my friend.”
Something inside Sophie broke open, something she had been holding together for months. She blinked back tears and swallowed hard. It looked like the man was having a difficult time with something.
He finally said, “I…” You can’t just walk away. He gave Sophie one of the bags of groceries. Come on, it’s just dinner.
Sophie wanted to say no. Pride yelled at her to stay away. But Lila’s grip was too warm to resist.
At first, dinner was strange. Sophie sat at the shiny oak table, scared to touch anything, until Lila came and sat down next to her and started talking about her school, her favorite cartoons, and her goldfish, Mr. Bubbles. Daniel, the father, listened quietly and asked Sophie small questions from time to time.
She started to relax little by little. Lila suddenly exclaimed, “Look, Daddy, she is laughing!” She’d be a great mommy.” Daniel stared at Sophie for a long time.
He said softly, “You don’t have to answer her, but if you ever need a place to get back on your feet, I have a spare room with no strings attached.” Weeks went by, and Sophie stayed in the spare room for a short time. She helped with the dishes, picked Lila up from school, and started drawing again.
Something she used to love before life got hard. Sophie was putting Lila to bed one night when the little girl whispered, “I told you I needed a home, and you needed a mommy.” Sophie didn’t say anything this time.
She kissed Lila on the forehead and said that maybe they both needed each other. A year later, in the epilogue, Sophie was more than just a guest; she was part of the family. She worked, saved money, and had a little girl who called her mom.
Being kind doesn’t always mean doing big things. It’s about how brave a child is to speak from the heart. Seven words changed two lives forever on that rainy day at a lonely bus stop.
You need a place to live, and I need a mom.