That stormy evening, the rain fell in heavy sheets, drenching the streets and leaving the air thick with cold. As the wind howled through the trees, I heard a faint scratching at the front door. At first, I thought it was just the branches, but then came the softest whimpers — cries so fragile they pierced straight through the noise of the storm.
When I opened the door, two tiny puppies stood there, trembling, their fur dripping with water, their eyes wide and pleading. They looked up at me as if to say, “Please show mercy, give us a piece of bread.” Their little ribs showed through their thin bodies, and it was clear they hadn’t eaten in days.
Without a second thought, I scooped them up and brought them inside. The warmth of the house seemed like heaven compared to the icy rain outside. I wrapped them in towels, gently rubbing their soaked fur until they began to relax. Their tails wagged ever so faintly, as if they couldn’t believe kindness had found them.
I placed a small dish of warm milk and bread before them. The way they devoured it broke my heart — they weren’t just hungry, they were desperate. Yet even in their struggle, they paused now and then to look up at me with eyes full of gratitude.
For the next few days, the puppies barely left my side. They followed me from room to room, tails wagging, as if afraid I might disappear. Slowly, their frailty faded, replaced by bursts of playful energy and the joyful barks of new life.
Those two soaked puppies came to my door asking only for bread, but what they really brought was a reminder: mercy is powerful, and love can transform even the most broken spirits.
Now, as they sleep soundly on a warm bed, I can’t help but smile. They begged for a piece of bread, but instead, they found a forever home.
