My kids ran over to him with some sidewalk chalk and offered to play. He didn’t respond—just blinked up at them, eyes already watery. I followed behind with a little wrapped car toy I’d grabbed from the closet last minute. I didn’t expect much.

But the second he saw it—still wrapped in that blue paper with faded cartoon prints—his eyes lit up just a bit. He looked at me, then down at the toy, then back up. No smile, not yet. But he took it.

“Happy Birthday, buddy,” I said, crouching to his level. “Hope you like race cars.”