Just a few inches from the rushing river, a tiny baby squirrel clung to the edge of a slippery rock—so small, its tail barely had a curl yet. The current roared below, and the little creature trembled, its tiny paws gripping for dear life. But just in time, a kind hand reached out, scooping it up gently before it could fall.
The baby squirrel let out the softest squeak, now safely cradled in warmth instead of facing the cold water. It blinked up with wide, grateful eyes—still scared, but safe. Wrapped in a towel and offered a drop of water, it nestled in, already sensing it had found a second chance.
Sometimes heroes don’t wear capes—they carry squirrels.
