On a moonlit highway long after midnight, my wife Amrita and I found ourselves stranded with a dead car, no phones, and no passing traffic. The silence pressed in on us until a rattling old Toyota Corolla pulled over, and a young college student named Zayd stepped out. He wore a faded sweatshirt, looked exhausted, yet spoke with warmth that instantly eased our fear. He refused money, offered us a ride, and filled the dark road with stories about school, pressures, dreams, and the tutoring center where he worked nights helping underprivileged kids. His compassion…CONTINUE READING IN BELOW
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