I Decided to Help a Little Boy at the Bus Stop Look for His Mom, but the Truth About Her Made My Blood Run Cold – Story of the Day

I encountered a young boy waiting for his mother alone at the bus stop after a long night job.

I couldn’t simply leave. But as I drew closer to trying to help him, I became more and more aware that something was seriously wrong, and everything changed when I learned the truth about his mother.

There are moments when you just want to fall asleep and shut off the outside world. For me, that morning was just one of those days.

My entire body hurt after working a twelve-hour night shift at the maternity ward.

Bringing new life into the world always felt sacred, therefore I enjoyed my job.

However, there were those shifts that left me feeling empty, as if I had given everything I had and had nothing left over for myself.

The city was barely beginning to awaken as I arrived at the bus stop. I noticed a young youngster, about five or six years old, seated on the bench.
His little rucksack rested on his knees as his legs hung out the edge. I glanced at him, then averted my gaze.

I was too exhausted to consider anything but returning home. Perhaps his mother was out nearby running errands or getting coffee. It wasn’t my business, I told myself.

Upon the bus’s arrival, I moved forward, prepared to board it. But something inside of me froze as I reached for the railing. I glanced back at the boy once again.
I said, “Hey, sweetheart.” “Why are you here alone like this?”

His large brown eyes gazed up at me. “I’m awaiting my mother.”

That seemed like a fair response, and perhaps I would have asked more if I hadn’t been so worn out.

However, I simply grinned, nodded, and boarded the bus. But I kept thinking about him and that somber, silent expression on his face all the way home.

I saw him again a few days later. I tried to persuade myself that there must be a reason, so I slowed down and looked at him across the street.

However, I realized something wasn’t right when I saw him there the following day and the day after that.
I approached him before work that morning.

I said, “Hey.” “Are you still awaiting your mother?”

He gave a nod.

“Are you aware of her arrival time?”
He gave a headshake. “I just wait; I don’t know.”

In an attempt to warm them, he rubbed his tiny hands together. I saw how thin his jacket was, and the air was freezing. I was already running late for my shift when I looked at the clock.

I let out a sigh. “Listen, staying outside is too chilly. Why don’t you join me for a while? I work close by. There, we can wait.

“However, what if my mother shows up and is unable to locate me?”

After pausing, I took a crumpled piece of paper out of my bag. We’ll leave a message for her. What is your name?

“Ethan,” he said.

Ethan is at the hospital with Claire, I wrote hastily. You can locate him by calling this number. To keep the message from blowing away, I tucked it beneath a tiny rock on the bench.

“There,” I said. “Your mother will now be fully aware of your location.”

After giving the note some thought, Ethan glanced up at me and grasped my hand.

I couldn’t help but think that I would give his mother a lesson when she eventually arrived as we began our journey to the hospital.

No youngster, especially one who trusted people as readily as this young boy did, should be left waiting unaccompanied at a bus stop.

Before going to my ward, I dropped Ethan off in the hospital’s playroom. Within the maternity unit, there was always something to do.

But on that particular day, I kept checking my phone whenever I had a moment to spare, hoping for a call that never arrived, regardless of how busy I was.

Regarding a missing youngster, nobody inquired.
By midday, I was unable to ignore the dread that was gnawing at me. Ethan and I went to the cafeteria after I picked him up from the playroom.

He held my hand as if it were the most normal thing in the world as he walked next to me. He grinned upon seeing the mashed potatoes as we sat down with plates of food.

“Are you enjoying yourself here?” I inquired.

Indeed! Many children are present, and they engage in play with me.

“Are you not played with at home?”

He shook his head and looked down. “No.”

I made an effort to speak lightly. I remarked, “Your mom hasn’t called yet.” Could you please tell me her name? Perhaps I can assist in locating her.

He gave a small smile. “Her name is Mom.”

I laughed quietly. “I understand, but mothers typically have names as well.”

“I’m not sure.”

“Are you aware of her workplace?”

Once more he shook his head.

“How about your residence?”

“No.” After a brief silence, he said softly, “But I’ll know when I meet her. She will also be familiar with me.

I felt a chill go through me. I saw his naive confidence and the way he held onto a belief that was obviously unfounded.

I said carefully, “Ethan, who do you currently live with?”

He merely stated, “With my foster family.”

My heart hurt. “Have you met your mother before?”
“No. But she’s on her way to me. All children have mothers.

His voice nearly broke me because it was so confident and full of faith.

Then he inquired, “Do you have kids?” as he glanced up at me.
“No. I am unable to become a parent.

However, I have a mother. All she did was lose me. She will soon discover me.

With a forced smile, I swallowed hard. “We’ll take you home when I get off work today. Your foster parents are probably concerned.

He scowled. “They’re not. I frequently flee. They used to search for me, but they now know that I will return.

What I was hearing was unbelievable. Who would let a six-year-old to roam the streets by themselves? Anger seething behind my skin, I shook my head.

Ethan was waiting for me by the doorway when my shift finally ended. Together, we went outside, and I took out my phone to dial a cab. I felt him tug on my sleeve.

“Will you help me find my mom, Claire?” he murmured softly.

“Sweetheart, I have no idea how to do that.”

He bowed his head. “I don’t want to be with them all the time. All I want is my mother.

His voice struck a chord with me that I could not shake. Perhaps because I knew I would never have children of my own, children had always been my weakness.

I knelt down and met his gaze directly. “All right,” I answered quietly. “We’ll look for her. I swear.

He wrapped his arms around my neck as his expression brightened. “I’m grateful.”

We got into the taxi together when it came. Ethan fell asleep in a matter of minutes after leaning against me and placing his head on my shoulder. I grinned and brushed a lock of hair off his forehead.

I woke him gently when we got there. We made our way to the entrance of a modest, dilapidated home. After a few seconds, a tall man answered the door when I knocked. His face was stern and irritated.

“At last,” he murmured, scowling at Ethan. “Enter.”

Ethan turned to wave at me but complied silently. I forced a smile as I waved back.

I forcefully stated, “You shouldn’t let him wander around like that,” before the door closed. He is only a youngster.

The man frowned. Despite our best efforts to keep him at home, he consistently flees. How would you like us to proceed?

“Take responsibility. You have a duty now.

He slammed the door in my face and yelled, “That’s none of your business.”

I kept thinking about Ethan the following morning as I drove to work.

I continued thinking about methods to assist him in finding his mother, but each thought was dashed before it could get started.

I got off the bus and froze as it came to a stop close to the hospital. Once more, he was waiting while seated on the same bench.

“Why are you in this place?”

Ethan grinned as he looked up. “Remember how you said we would find my mom?”

I said, “I did, but I have to work today.”

“It’s alright,” he said. “While you work, I can play with the other kids.”

As usual, he stretched out and took my hand, his tiny fingers curling around mine with total confidence.
I couldn’t resist grinning.

Something inside of him was broken by his innocence and faith in me. In order to ensure that he would never have to wait at that bus stop again, I wanted to shield him from everyone.

Then all of a sudden, I had an idea. I asked, “Ethan, when is your birthday?”

He paused to reflect. June 15th
“You’re six, correct?”

“Six and a half,” he declared with pride.

I returned the smile, but my thoughts were already racing.

When the ward finally calmed down later that afternoon, I sneaked inside the hospital archive room.
I knew where to search because I worked in the maternity ward.

One of these files would contain Ethan’s mother’s name if he had been born here.

Six years ago, I came across the June folder and began to leaf through the pages. That day, only one baby boy had been born.

As I took out the record, my heart was racing. His name, weight, and the small footprint imprinted in blue ink were all there. And the mother’s name next to it.

My breath seized in my throat as I read the notes underneath it. I put my hand to my mouth. The words on the page were obscured by tears.

I discovered Ethan in the playroom after my shift. His face lit up as he ran toward me. He said, “Did you find her?”

I made an effort to grin. “Not just yet.”

He nodded, but his shoulders drooped. It’s alright. Perhaps tomorrow.

I said, “Come on.” “Let’s take you back home.”

We returned to his foster home in a taxi. His fingers were playing with the edge of my sleeve as he leaned against me once more, quietly this time.

He smiled drowsily at me when I helped him out of the car when we got there. “Will you visit me once more?” he inquired.

“Obviously,” I said.

I instructed the driver to wait as he waved before entering. I was still unable to go. I provided him with a different address.

I found her name—the identical one from the file—by looking through the gravestones when we got there.

She was just twenty-six years old.

Ethan’s mother passed away during childbirth. No one to claim him, no family.

I gazed at the stone as I stood there. I never had the opportunity to have a kid, and she never had the opportunity to become a mother. However, perhaps the story didn’t have to finish there.

I provided the driver Ethan’s address once more without hesitation. The man from yesterday’s face tensed as he opened the door.

“You’re here again,” he whispered.
“I must see Ethan.”

After a moment of hesitation, he exclaimed, “Ethan! There is someone here to help you.

Ethan showed up, wiping his eyes, drowsy and barefoot. With a little but hopeful voice, he inquired, “Did you find my mom?”

I muttered, “Ethan, would you like me to be your mother?”

After giving me a little blink, he flung his arms around my neck and held me as firmly as he could. Through a small sob, he murmured, “You found me.” “Mom, you found me.”

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