I never imagined that pausing for a crying baby on a cold morning would lead me to the highest floor of the same building where I worked cleaning offices for minimum wage. But discovering who the baby belonged to changed my life in ways I never expected.Four months had passed since I welcomed my son, named after his father who dreamed of parenthood. Becoming a new mother while adjusting to life alone, working part-time, and learning to navigate everything myself felt overwhelming. My days were filled with feedings, diaper changes, and trying to stay awake after only a few hours of rest.

One morning, while walking home after my cleaning shift, I heard a baby crying near a bus stop. At first, I thought I was imagining it, but the sound grew louder. On a bench, wrapped in blankets, was a newborn who looked cold and frightened. With no parent in sight, I instinctively picked him up, warmed him against my chest, and hurried home so he could be fed and comforted. After making sure he was safe, I contacted the authorities, who came to take him into care. Even so, I couldn’t stop thinking about him.