Maybe tomorrow will be another struggle. Perhaps the day will come when they’ll have to fight again over a piece of bread, their small bodies pushing and nudging to survive. Maybe the night will be long and cold, filled with the kind of loneliness that settles deep into your bones, making you shiver even under the faintest blanket.
But today is different. Today, they played. Their tiny feet kicked up dust and grass, paws or hands tangling in the thrill of movement, in the pure joy of simply being alive. Laughter, or the closest sound to it, rang through the quiet corners of their world. For a little while, the weight of hunger, the ache of emptiness, and the fear of the dark vanished.
And when play was over, they curled up together, side by side, or perhaps pressed against the warmth of someone who cared. The world outside might still be cruel, indifferent, and unforgiving, but here—in this moment—they were safe. They fell asleep with a peace that comes only from knowing that they are loved, that someone has held them, fed them, protected them, even if it was only for a short while.
It’s a small comfort, fragile and fleeting, but it is enough. Because love, even in its simplest form, can fill spaces that hunger, cold, and fear cannot reach. It can cradle the soul when the world is harsh and uncertain. And in that quiet night, as their breaths slowed and eyes closed, the world outside could rage, but inside, for these moments, they knew peace.
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For even if you have nothing else—no food, no warmth, no certainty—being loved can be enough to carry you through until tomorrow.