Megan and Jerry were young parents who decided to go camping with their one-year-old daughter, Alice. After a long, exhausting day, they stopped at a nearby lake as night fell. While Jerry pitched the tent, Megan prepared dinner, but Alice started crying.

“Can you check on her?” Megan asked, too tired to move. Jerry protested, but before he could argue, they both heard a strange male voice on the baby monitor say, “Hush, it’s fine, baby.”

Panicked, Megan dashed to the tent, Jerry close behind. To her shock, a stranger sat next to Alice, trying to comfort her.

Megan quickly scooped Alice into her arms. “Who are you?” she demanded, her heart racing.

The man smiled gently. “I’m just a local priest. I heard her crying and wanted to help.”

Relieved but embarrassed, Megan invited him for tea. They gathered around the fire, and the priest began sharing a story. He recalled working at an orphanage in Congo, where he once entered a quiet room full of infants.

“The silence was unsettling,” he explained. “I learned that when babies cry and no one comes, they eventually stop. That silence shows they feel unloved.”

Megan and Jerry felt guilt wash over them. They looked at Alice, realizing they had neglected her cries.

“We promise, no matter how tired we are, we’ll always be there for you, honey,” Megan said, holding Alice close. “You’re never alone.”