I was driving home, weighed down by the worst day of my life my fiancé called off our wedding last week, and I’d just lost my

job. As rain poured down, my phone buzzed again. It was Mom, worried about the storm. I told her I’d be home soon, though

inside I felt shattered. Then, a yellow school bus rolled past. At the back window, a little girl was banging and yelling for help.

My heart stopped. I sped after the bus, honking, but the driver seemed unaware.

Panic surged as I forced the bus to stop. Inside, the kids were noisy, laughing except the girl, Chelsea, who was struggling to

breathe. She was having an asthma attack, but her inhaler was missing. I searched through the children’s backpacks and found

it in a boy’s bag. He said it was “just a joke.” I was furious. Helping Chelsea use her inhaler, I watched her color return.

The driver apologized, admitting he hadn’t noticed the emergency amid the chaos. Chelsea thanked me softly, and I promised to

stay with her until she got home. At her stop, her parents were grateful and angry at the driver and the other kids.

Mrs. Stewart, Chelsea’s mother, offered me a ride and then a surprising opportunity: a job interview at their family business.

That night, I told Mom everything. For the first time in weeks, hope filled my heart. When God closes