A Tiny Life in My Hands: The Journey of a Stray Kitten
She was smaller than my palm, trembling on the cold street. Her cries pierced the morning quiet, fragile yet fierce. I knelt beside her, the pavement rough under my knees. Her eyes, barely open, searched for something—someone—who wasn’t there. No mother, no warmth, just a scrap of fur fighting to be seen. I scooped her …