The ambulance lights painted the street red and blue.

The rich woman stood frozen with the muddy coat in her hands, realizing the little girl had been colder than her mother and still gave away the only warmth she had found.

The doorman’s voice softened.

“She wouldn’t leave her side.”

The woman looked at him, stunned.

“What?”

He nodded toward the curb.

“Your mother kept asking for her daughter. This girl held her hand and said, ‘I’m here until she comes.’”

The woman’s face broke.

The little girl looked down, embarrassed by all the attention.

“I didn’t know her name,” she whispered. “But she was scared.”

The ambulance doors opened.

An old woman’s weak voice came from inside.

“Where is the little angel?”

The girl lifted her head.

The rich woman turned toward her mother, tears mixing with rain on her face.

“She’s here.”

The old woman reached one shaking hand from the stretcher.

The homeless girl hesitated, then stepped closer.

The rich woman suddenly saw the child’s blue lips, her shaking knees, her broken shoes filling with water.

She dropped to her knees on the wet pavement.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I called you a thief.”

The girl looked at the coat.

“I only borrowed it for her.”

The woman wrapped the muddy coat around the child’s shoulders.

“No,” she cried softly. “Tonight, you gave us something we can never repay.”