The fur was faded, one ear was missing, and the small plastic heart hanging from its neck read:
“Daddy’s Bear.”
Everett smiled through tears.
“My daughter gave this to me the week before the accident.”
“I’ve carried it every day since I lost her.”
Junie gently touched the little bear before wrapping her arms around him again.
“You can still be someone’s bear,” she whispered.
The huge biker broke down crying in the middle of the travel plaza.
People who had judged him only minutes earlier quietly wiped away their own tears.
Even Junie’s mother couldn’t stop crying.
Sometimes, it only takes one fearless child to remind a broken heart that love never truly disappears.
