The doctor, struggling to stay calm, ordered that the boy be prepared for emergency surgery. While the surgical team hurriedly put on masks and gloves, the nurse stayed by his side, whispering comforting words.

With each object they removed, the tension in the operating room grew. The doctors could hardly believe the boy had done this to himself. Pain and loneliness showed in his every movement.

When the boy woke up after the operation, the same nurse was sitting by his bed. Her gentle voice finally made him speak:
— My name is Tommy…

— Tommy… that’s a lovely name. Do you have someone we can call? — she asked softly.

A long pause, then a whisper:
— No one…

Those words hit harder than any diagnosis.

When Tommy finally found the courage to talk, the truth was even more heartbreaking. He admitted that he truly had no one. He lived on the streets, slept wherever he could, and earned a few coins by cleaning car windows at traffic lights.

But most of the time, older street kids took everything from him. So Tommy came up with a desperate idea to protect his money — he swallowed the coins, hoping to hide them inside himself.

The doctors listened, their throats tight with emotion. A nine-year-old boy, alone against hunger and the cruelty of the world. His act wasn’t madness — it was a cry for help.

Now the doctors and social workers understood: they couldn’t send Tommy back to the cold streets. He deserved not just medical care, but a new life — somewhere he’d never again have to swallow coins to protect his small piece of “happiness.”