“The two men who saved your life are waiting to see you right outside.”
Lying in that hospital bed, my body weak from dehydration and fatigue, those words felt almost surreal—like something from a distant dream. But when the doctor added, “Your children are safe,” a wave of relief finally washed over me. I could finally breathe again.
That moment of crisis was just one part of a much longer story—one that quietly started years before, with the weekly arrival of a garbage truck and two kind sanitation workers.
My twins, Jesse and Lila, were toddlers when they first became fascinated by the neighborhood’s garbage pickup. Every Monday morning, without fail, they would rush to the window to watch the big truck come down the street. It wasn’t only the noise or the moving bins—they loved the routine, and most of all, they loved the people behind it.
The two sanitation workers, Theo and Rashad, quickly became familiar and friendly faces in our lives. Theo, calm and steady, always gave a gentle wave. Rashad, lively and full of charm, often greeted us with an enthusiastic thumbs-up or big smile. Over time, they weren’t just workers—they became a special, welcome part of our week.
