Today is my birthday. Although I know I’m not attractive and I’m dealing with illness, I still deeply long for people to send me birthday wishes

**San’s Birthday Wish**

Today is my birthday. My name is San, and I am a poor dog living on the streets. I know I’m ugly and sick, but that doesn’t stop me from wishing that someone, anyone, would send me birthday wishes.

I’ve never had a home or a family. My fur is matted and patchy, and I limp from an old injury that never healed properly. Most people look away when they see me, and some even shoo me away with harsh words or a kick. But despite my appearance and my ailments, I have a heart full of hope and a spirit that refuses to give up.

This morning, I woke up in my usual spot under the bridge. The sun’s rays peeked through the cracks, and I tried to shake off the cold and the stiffness in my joints. Today, I told myself, will be different. It’s my birthday, and birthdays are supposed to be special.

I ventured out into the busy streets, hoping that today, someone might notice me and offer a kind word or a gentle pat. I wandered through the park, where families played and children laughed. I watched from a distance, trying to muster the courage to approach, but my appearance seemed to frighten them.

As the day went on, my hope began to wane. I found a quiet corner near a bakery, the smell of freshly baked bread filling the air. I closed my eyes and imagined what it would be like to be cared for, to have someone who loved me despite my flaws.

Then, something unexpected happened. A little girl with big, bright eyes and a kind smile approached me. She knelt down and looked at me with compassion. “Hi there,” she said softly. “What’s your name?”

I wagged my tail weakly, grateful for her attention. She reached out and gently petted my head. “You look like you could use a friend,” she continued. “Today is your birthday, isn’t it? Happy birthday, sweet dog.”

Her words warmed my heart more than the sun ever could. She took a small piece of bread from her bag and offered it to me. It wasn’t much, but it felt like a feast. For the first time in a long while, I felt a glimmer of happiness.

The girl stayed with me for a while, talking to me and petting me gently. Her kindness made me feel special, if only for a moment. As the sun began to set, she stood up and gave me one last pat. “I have to go now,” she said, “but I’ll come back to see you. Happy birthday, San.”

I watched her walk away, my heart full of gratitude. For the first time in my life, someone had cared enough to wish me a happy birthday. It didn’t matter that I was ugly and sick. What mattered was that I had been seen and loved, even if just for a day.

As night fell, I curled up under the bridge, feeling a warmth inside that I hadn’t felt in a long time. Today had been a special day after all. I closed my eyes, dreaming of the little girl and her kind words, and for once, I felt that maybe, just maybe, there was hope for a better tomorrow.