My 12-year-old son carried his wheelchair-bound friend on his back during a camping trip so he wouldn’t feel excluded—then the next day, the principal called me and said, “You need to come to school right away.”

I looked at him, confused. “What?”

Carlson nodded. “We served with him. Years ago.”

“He used to carry Sam everywhere,” Sally added. “Anywhere Sam couldn’t go, Mark made sure he didn’t miss out. After… after he died, I tried my best. But there were things I just couldn’t recreate for Sam.”

Her voice tightened, but she continued.

“When I picked him up yesterday, he was different. The last time I saw him like that was six years ago, before his father died in combat. He couldn’t stop talking about the trees, the birds, the view from the top… things he had never experienced before. He said it felt like the world had finally opened up to him.”