Someone Who Understands

 

The sun was already high when the farmer hammered the last nail into a wooden sign that read:

“Puppies for Sale.”

He stepped back, wiping sweat from his brow, satisfied. He’d raised those pups from birth, and now it was time to find them homes.

Just as he turned to go back inside, he felt a soft tug at his overalls. He looked down.

Standing there was a little boy, maybe seven or eight. Dusty shoes, freckled face, and eyes full of hope.

“Mister,” the boy said, “I want to buy one of your puppies.”

The farmer smiled kindly but hesitated.

“These puppies come from good stock,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “They cost quite a bit.”

The boy didn’t flinch. He nodded, then dug deep into his pocket and held out a handful of coins.

“I’ve got thirty-nine cents,” he said. “Is that enough just to look?”

The farmer’s heart softened.

“Sure, buddy. Come on over.”

He gave a sharp whistle.

“Here, Dolly!”

From the doghouse burst a blur of energy—Dolly, the proud mother, followed by four tiny, bouncing puppies tumbling over each other as they ran to the fence.

The boy’s face lit up. He pressed close to the chain-link fence, eyes wide, completely captivated by the wagging tails and tiny barks.

But then… he noticed something.

Another little pup, smaller than the rest, appeared slowly at the top of the ramp. Its legs wobbled. It didn’t run—it shuffled, awkwardly, trying to follow its siblings. Every step looked like a challenge.

“I want that one,” the boy said softly, pointing to the little struggler.

The farmer knelt down beside him.

“Son,” he said gently, “you don’t want that puppy. He’ll never be able to run and play with you like the others. He’s... different.”

The boy stepped back from the fence and didn’t say anything for a moment.

Then he reached down and started rolling up one leg of his trousers. A long metal brace ran down both sides of his leg, ending in a thick orthopedic shoe.

He looked up at the farmer and said quietly,

“You see, I don’t run so well either. That little guy… he’s going to need someone who understands.”

---

Some Bonds Are Built on Shared Struggles

The farmer didn’t say another word. He just nodded, deeply moved, and gently opened the gate.

The little pup made its way to the boy—slow, unsure, but determined.

And the boy sat cross-legged on the ground, waiting, arms open.

It didn’t matter that they couldn’t run like the others.

They’d found something better: a friend who knew what it felt like to be different—and loved anyway.

---

The world is full of people (and animals) who don’t quite fit the mold. They don’t need pity. They don’t need fixing.

They need someone who sees them—really sees them—and says, “Me too.”

That’s what makes all the difference.

________

Out Of The Box June 01, 2025