onLeave a Comment on I saw a homeless man wearing my missing son’s jacket — and I decided to follow him. Almost a year ago, on a Monday morning, my 17-year-old son, Daniel, left for school and never came back. My son was always the one who could make everyone laugh. He was kind and sensitive. He would never even leave the house without telling me. That just wasn’t like Daniel. That same evening, I called the police. The officers said teenagers will be teenagers — that he would come back in a couple of days. 
I had spent almost a year believing my son had vanished into the world, that he had left without a word, without looking back. But my son hadn’t run away. At least, not the way anyone assumed.
He had stayed beside someone who was afraid, in every city and every shelter and every cold, abandoned building, because he was the kind of boy who couldn’t let someone go alone.
He was also the kind of boy who gave away his jacket as a sign for someone who loved him to follow.
