Frede and Keaton were inseparable. Sixteen-year-old best friends, the kind every teacher wished for: quiet, responsible, and full of heart. Frede helped younger students with homework without asking for anything. Keaton gave up weekends to coach Little League. Both came from families struggling to make ends meet, yet they carried themselves with steady confidence, laughter, and humility.
One late September afternoon, their lives shifted forever. Walking home through a tree-lined back road, they heard it—a faint, trembling call.
“Help…”
At the bottom of a slope, half-hidden in the brush, lay an old man, fragile and trembling, groceries spilled around him. Frede and Keaton didn’t hesitate. They ran to his side, lifted him gently, and walked him home to a crumbling trailer.
“I’m Bernard,” he rasped, embarrassed. “I’ve made a real mess of things.”
The boys didn’t care. The next day, they returned, arms full of groceries. And then, twice a week became every week. What started as an act of charity became something deeper. Bernard wasn’t just someone they helped—he became family.
Continue reading on next page…