In the fall of 2014, when anger and frustration filled the streets of America, a single embrace reminded the world of something greater than conflict.

In Portland, Oregon, 12-year-old Devonte Hart, a shy African American boy, joined a protest with his family after the controversial decision not to indict Officer Darren Wilson in the shooting of Michael Brown. Devonte carried a small cardboard sign that simply read: “Free Hugs.”

But as the chants grew louder and the crowd pressed forward, Devonte’s heart broke. He stood before a police barricade with tears running down his face—overwhelmed by the pain and division he felt around him.

One officer, Bret Barnum, noticed. He didn’t walk toward Devonte as a symbol of authority, but as a man who saw a child in need. Kneeling down, he tried to talk with him—about school, vacations, little things that might calm his trembling voice. And then, glancing at the sign in Devonte’s hands, Barnum softly asked:

“Can I have one of those hugs?”

In that instant, Devonte collapsed into his arms. His tiny frame shook as he clung to the officer’s uniform, his face buried against Barnum’s chest. The photograph, taken by young Vietnamese-American photographer Johnny Nguyen, froze the moment forever: a boy’s tears, a policeman’s compassion, a hug that crossed lines many thought unbreakable.

When the picture spread online, it traveled like wildfire—shared by hundreds of thousands within hours. To many, it became a portrait of hope at a time when America was fractured by grief and protest.

Barnum himself later said he was humbled: “I just wanted to be human with him.”

And perhaps that is what made the hug so powerful: in a season of division, two strangers—one child, one officer—showed the world that love and humanity can still find their way through walls of anger and fear.