I nearly dialed 911 on the tattooed teenager holding a screaming baby inside an empty 1 AM laundromat. Then his bag tore open, and my stomach sank with utter shame.

of Pediatric Nursing*.

The boy no longer looked angry. He simply looked defeated.

He fell to his knees in the middle of the aisle. He drew the screaming baby close against his chest, buried his face in her worn blanket, and began to sob.

It wasn’t a quiet cry. It was the deep, guttural weeping of someone who had reached the absolute end of their rope.continue reading …