Leo painfully straightened his stiff arms. The water in the bottle was half-frozen; he had to warm it with his breath.
Leo took stock of their food: one serving of cookies left, nothing more. They had to find people, or they wouldn’t make it. Ellie was visibly weakening; she struggled to stand, swaying on her feet.
“Leo, I can’t walk anymore.” — “You can,” Leo said, lifting her into his arms. “We’ll find a house.” Instead of heading back, they were going deeper into the woods.
Leo hoped to find a hunter’s cabin or a ranger station. Someone had to live out here. On the trail, they saw tracks—maybe human, maybe a large animal, Leo couldn’t tell, but it gave him hope.
Ellie stumbled, fell, and cut her knee on a sharp rock. Blood soaked through her torn tights, and she cried out in pain. Leo tore a strip from his shirt and bandaged the wound.
“Hang in there, sis. We’ll find someone soon.” But he was starting to lose hope himself. There was nothing but forest in every direction. By afternoon, Ellie was so weak she could barely stand and was talking nonsense.
Leo carried her on his back, barely able to walk himself, his legs buckling from exhaustion. They ate the last cookie, drank the last of the water. Ahead lay an endless forest: pines, oaks, birches—the same view, on and on.
Ellie started to ramble. “Mommy, where are you? I want to go home.” Leo started to cry himself but kept walking, his legs moving on autopilot. “Don’t give up, Ellie. Mom is watching us from heaven. She’ll help us.”
Through the thick pines, Leo suddenly saw a thin stream of smoke—a gray thread rising toward the sky. His heart leaped, then began to pound so loudly it seemed the whole forest could hear it. “Ellie! Do you see it? Smoke! There are people there!”
Ellie lifted her heavy head, followed his pointing finger, saw the smoke, and smiled for the first time in a day. It was a weak smile, but genuine. “Really? Are we saved?” — “Yes. There’s definitely a house there. Let’s go.”
They pushed toward the smoke, fighting through the undergrowth. Branches scratched their faces and snagged their clothes, but Leo felt no pain, only a sharp, desperate hope. Ellie could barely move her feet, but she kept going.
The teddy bear caught on a thick branch and almost fell from her hands, but she clutched it tighter. “Mr. Bear led us to people!” she whispered. “Just like Mom said, he saved us!”
The smoke grew clearer, and they could finally see where it was coming from behind a dense wall of spruce trees. There, very close, was a house, people, warmth, and food. Leo knew this was their last chance.
If no one was there, if it was just a forest fire, they wouldn’t survive. Their strength was gone. But their mother’s teddy bear had led them here, which meant everything would be okay.
Through the dense pines, a small house appeared. It was an old cabin with a sagging roof and logs darkened by time, the north side covered in a green carpet of moss. From the chimney came the welcome smoke, rising in a thin gray wisp against the gray sky.
The yard was tidy: a neat stack of firewood sat under an overhang, the logs all cut to the same length. An axe was stuck in an old chopping block, its blade gleaming, recently sharpened. Wood chips lay scattered nearby, rubber boots stood by the porch, and a pair of work gloves were drying on the railing.
Leo stopped a few feet from the porch, holding Ellie’s hand tightly. His heart pounded with a mix of fear and hope. “What if it’s a bad person?” he whispered, studying the windows.
Ellie was shivering from cold and exhaustion, barely able to stand. Her lips were blue, her hair matted and damp. “But we have nowhere else to go, Leo,” she answered weakly.
Leo knew she was right; they wouldn’t survive another night in the forest. The temperature was dropping, and they had no warm clothes or food. He made his decision, crept cautiously to a small window, and peered through the fogged glass.
In the warm yellow glow of a wood stove sat a burly man of about fifty. He had a neatly trimmed gray beard and wore a red plaid flannel shirt. The man was stirring something in a large cast-iron pot with a wooden spoon, and the cabin was filled with the smell of potatoes and dill.
Leo gathered his courage, walked to the door, and knocked with a trembling hand—first softly, then louder. The door creaked open. The man saw the children and his eyes widened; his beard was indeed gray, but his eyes were kind, though weary.
“Good Lord! Children! Where on earth did you come from?” Ellie, frightened by the stranger, quickly hid behind her brother, clutching her teddy bear. Leo stammered from cold and nervousness, “Sir! We’re lost! Please, can you help us?”
The man didn’t ask questions. He swung the door wide open. “Get in here, you’re freezing! Hurry, inside.” The old man introduced himself as Sam. He spoke quietly but confidently and immediately sat the children on a wide wooden bench near the stove.
The stove was large, radiating a life-giving warmth. Sam gently removed their wet, clinging clothes; their jackets dripped onto the floor, their shoes squelched. He wrapped them in thick wool blankets that smelled of cedar and woodsmoke, heavy and warm.
Sam placed clay mugs of hot tea in front of them, with a spoonful of thick, amber honey melting inside. Steam rose from the mugs, warming their faces. “Drink up. Get warm. Then you can tell me how you got here,” he said in a kind voice.
Sam moved slowly but deliberately; it was clear he was used to taking care of himself. The shelves were lined with jars of preserves and bags of herbs, and bunches of dried mushrooms hung in a corner. Ellie didn’t let go of her teddy bear, even under the blanket.
The toy was also damp from the woods, but she held it with one hand while cautiously sipping the hot tea with the other. Sam stirred the soup in the large pot, glancing at the children from time to time. “You’re so thin. Haven’t been eating right? Skin and bones.”
The children drank their tea in small sips, still in disbelief that they were safe. Warmth slowly spread through their bodies, and their fingers gradually thawed and stopped aching. Sam didn’t press them for answers, letting them warm up and eat some hot soup first.
Only then did he gently ask about their story. Leo spoke carefully, choosing his words. He couldn’t bring himself to tell the truth—that their parents had deliberately abandoned them. It was too shameful, too painful. “We were driving to our grandma’s, and the car broke down,” he lied.
“Dad went to get help, and we went looking for the road and got lost.” Sam listened intently and nodded, but something in his eyes changed; they grew wary. He clearly didn’t believe this version but didn’t push for details. “I see. The main thing is you’re safe and sound.”
Ellie, finally relaxed in the warmth and safety, felt she could trust the kind man and decided to show him her most precious possession. “Mr. Sam, look. This is my mommy’s bear. He protected me in the woods.”
She proudly held out the teddy bear…
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