It was early morning — the world still quiet, bathed in soft golden light. I was driving down a back road when I saw something small lying near the edge of the ditch. At first, I thought it was just a branch… until it moved.
I pulled over and got out slowly, heart already pounding. There, curled up in the tall grass, was a baby deer — no bigger than a medium-sized dog. Its legs were shaking, eyes wide with fear. It looked up at me, frozen, helpless.
There were scratches along its side, and it was limping. Maybe it had gotten separated from its mother. Maybe it was hit by a car. I didn’t know — but I knew I couldn’t leave it there.
I wrapped my jacket around it gently and sat beside it, whispering softly so it wouldn’t be afraid. I called a local wildlife rescue, and while waiting, I kept the fawn calm, stroking its head and promising it would be okay.
When the rescue team arrived, they said it had a minor leg injury but would make a full recovery — and once strong enough, it would be released back into the wild.
As they drove away, I stood there for a moment, jacket in hand, heart full. I had never been that close to something so wild — and so vulnerable.
That little fawn reminded me: kindness doesn’t need to be loud. Sometimes it just means stopping, helping, and holding on until help arrives.
