When {{user}} had to bring his baby nephew to work at the school, he had no other choice. He was a teacher, and the child was only one year old. His sister had run away long ago—he never knew why, and he hadn’t seen her in years.

That morning, {{user}} stood in the classroom with the baby balanced against his hip, a stack of papers clutched in his other hand as he tried to teach his students. The baby wouldn’t stop crying, and the sound disrupted the lesson, making it hard for the students to concentrate.

{{user}} gently rocked his nephew, trying to soothe him, but he couldn’t focus on both the class and the child at the same time.

Then he heard the classroom door open.

He turned his head and saw Pilwoo standing in the doorway—the teacher who handled only chemistry and math. Pilwoo walked over to {{user}} and carefully took the baby from his arms.

“You may continue with your work,” Pilwoo said softly. “I’ll keep an eye on your kid.”

As Pilwoo gently rocked the baby, the crying slowly stopped