I collapsed one Monday morning from exhaustion and illness, and it nearly cost me my life. But the reason I’m still here? Two garbage men—Theo and Rashad—who noticed something was wrong when my kids, Jesse and Lila, didn’t run outside like they always did. They found me unconscious and called for help.

My kids adored them. Every Monday, they’d wait by the window, excited for the garbage truck’s arrival. Theo and Rashad didn’t just wave—they brought toy trucks, gave high-fives, and remembered their names. To my kids, they were heroes. That day, they proved it.

After I recovered, we waited outside to thank them. Rashad simply said, “We look out for our people.” From then on, Mondays became special—coffee, muffins, drawings stuck to the truck, and smiles all around.

I shared our story online. It went viral. The men got awards, and people were reminded of the goodness that still exists.

But what I remember most isn’t the praise—it’s Theo telling my crying son, “You get shotgun today.” Just showing up. Just caring.

Sometimes heroes don’t wear capes—they wear safety vests and drive garbage trucks.

Lesson: Never underestimate the power of ordinary kindness. It saves lives—sometimes literally.