
Poor girl sleeps every night on a bench. A rich man finds out the reason and can’t hold back his tears!
The girl’s name was Lina – small, fragile, and just twelve years old. Her clothes were worn thin from months of wandering, and her shoes had holes in the soles. The city moved around her like a machine: fast, indifferent, too busy to notice a child curled up under the flickering light of a streetlamp. But Mr. Kieran…