A minted father who is unwilling to spend money to raise his newborn twins asks his wife to give up one baby for adoption. He kicks her out with the babies when she refuses and knocks on her door for help five years later.
It was a cold, rainy night, and Angie cradled her newborn babies at the bus stop. “Where will we go? Jesus, please help us. Shelter us as we wait out this rough night,” she cried, wiping warm tear droplets off her babies’ faces. Angie had nowhere to go, and her parents had died long back.
Suddenly, she sensed something creeping behind her and was terrified. Angie mustered the courage to protect her babies from whatever it was. “It’s a dog!” she sighed.
Angie never imagined her life would turn topsy-turvy overnight. She never thought her husband Jake, who she trusted and loved throughout their marriage, would kick her out with their babies just a week after their birth…
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“How I wish my mom were with me today…Sorry, mama, I should’ve listened to you and not rushed with my marriage with Jake,” sobbed Angie, thinking about her late mom.
“You can stay in this house as long as you agree to keep just one baby or leave if you want to keep both. Decide wisely, dear.”
Angie met Jake after graduation five years ago. He was a young, handsome man, and she thought he was the one. They fell for each other in what would turn into a fairytale love story, but with one exception—there was no ‘happily ever after’ in Angie’s case.
Problems sparked in the fourth year of their marriage when she told Jake she was pregnant.
“But darling, you know I’ve just started my business. We have postponed baby planning all these years, and I am not ready to be a father yet,” Jake was upset when Angie showed him the two pink lines on her pregnancy test kit.
Jake’s reluctance to be a father showed he was unprepared for responsibilities. Poor Angie was torn between his disapproval of having children and her desire to have as many as possible. But was Jake prepared to know Angie was pregnant with twins?
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“I am okay with having a baby…you get it? I mean, one baby is enough,” said Jake as Angie walked into the ward for scanning. “I pray that you don’t come out and tell me we are having twins,” he joked, his mouth curved into an ironic smile. Moments later, fate joked back at him.
Angie came out, distressed and worried. She was pale while she was supposed to be blushing and smiling.
“What is it?” he asked her, impatient for her reply. “What did the doctor say?”
Angie swallowed her fear and spoke out, partly guessing Jake’s reaction. “Our babies are fine,” she said.
“Alright…wait, what…babies?” he exclaimed.
The scan Angie took minutes ago gave her a glimpse at two tiny lives growing inside her. She was pregnant with twins, and Jake was not happy about that.
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Jake stormed to his car as Angie read his mind and pictured his frustrations. She was nervous and thought he had joked about having only one baby. But his reactions proved otherwise.
Jake grew distant from Angie day by day and focused only on making more money. She knew he was upset about having twins and assumed he would cool down with time. But it only worsened during her third trimester.
Angie was in the hospital, waiting for Jake to see their newborn twin baby girls. But he never showed up. He sent his maid and driver three days later to bring Angie and their babies home.
Jake did not want to get involved with his babies. He didn’t even welcome them home or hold them. He was unhappy and unprepared to be their father.
Angie returned home with her newborns that evening, knowing little about Jake’s condition. “We keep only one child and give the other up for adoption. If you are okay with it, we are a family. If not, you can leave the house with them,” he told Angie.
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At first, Angie thought Jake was kidding. He dragged her suitcase to the living room and placed it in front of her, indicating he was serious.
“I’m not ready to raise two children and burn a hole in my pocket. My business is fetching a lot of profits, and I need to focus on making more money…I don’t want to waste my time and wealth on raising two babies when I can easily raise just one,” he explained.
Angie was devastated. “They are our babies, Jake. How could you ask a mother to give up her baby? Are you out of your mind? Both my babies are our symbol of love,” she cried. But Jake was stubborn.
“My business has just started to flourish, and I don’t have the time to focus on family. I don’t want to waste my hard-earned money on two babies. You can stay in this house as long as you agree to keep just one baby or leave if you want to keep both. Decide wisely, dear,” he said, despite knowing Angie had nowhere to go.
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The poor mother’s choice was obvious. She took her suitcase and left the house with the babies. Jake’s greed for his newfound riches blinded his devotion to family. He failed as a husband and a father. But it didn’t matter to him.
Angie snapped to her present and found herself still deserted at the bus stop, cradling her babies. “Where will I go? Please help me, Jesus,” she cried and was disrupted by an intense beam of light rays.
“Hello there, are you alright? It’s raining heavily. Would you like a ride, my dear?” an older woman called out to her from a taxi. Angie looked up and saw a nun. She wrapped her babies in her jacket and approached the car.
“Oh my, how adorable your babies are!” exclaimed the nun. “Get in. I’ll drop you. Where do you want to go?”
“I don’t know, Sister,” said Angie. “My path is dark, and I am lost. I don’t know which way to go. My babies and I were abandoned by someone dear to us.”
The nun understood Angie’s misery and immediately took her to the convent.
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Angie and her daughters, Sophie and Marley, found a safe shelter to wait out the rough days of their lives. Angie taught in the school administered by the church. She also worked part-time in a restaurant, and two years later, she saved a good chunk of money to start her café.
Gradually, Angie was able to give her daughters a better life, though it could’ve been much better had their father been involved. Moreover, Angie did not regret her decision not wanting to divorce Jake. Deep in her heart, she hoped he would realize his mistake and come for them someday.
Five years passed, and Angie now had her own house. It was quite small yet comfortable. She spent the best years watching Sophia and Marley grow up.
There were times when Angie used to struggle without enough profits in business, but her faith and determination motivated her. She launched two more coffee shops in town, and gradually, her fortune grew. But in the other part of town, Jake’s business tanked.
He was drowned in debt, and everybody he sought financial help from refused to support him at the last minute. Jake knew how rich Angie was now and thought only she could help him.
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“Hey, how are you?” Angie answered the door one day when she least expected to see Jake at the doorstep. “Come in!”
Jake vaguely smiled and immediately apologized to Angie. “Darling, I’m so sorry for abandoning you. My greed to earn more money cost me big. I am bankrupt, and it’s the best punishment I deserve for kicking you out with our babies. Please forgive me, and please help me.”
Angie now understood why Jake had come. She had learned about his loss in business but never thought he would visit her and apologize, let alone ask for help.
Jake saw a photo of Angie with their daughters and cried. “I’m sorry, sweethearts. Please forgive your daddy,” he said. Angie’s heart melted, and though she knew Jake had come crawling for help, she was willing to do it because she still loved him.
“But darling, I will not be able to repay such a huge amount of money. I will need time. I was such a cruel husband and a heartless father. Are you sure you want to help me?” he sobbed when Angie gave him a check worth the money he wanted.
“The night you kicked me out, I learned what greed is and how it can ruin relationships. And today, I learned what forgiveness is. What are we going to achieve by holding onto our past grudges? Nothing! Everyone makes mistakes, but as humans, we must learn to forgive one another,” said Angie.
Jake realized his mistake and promised to take Angie and their kids back once he sorted his business issues. He wanted to be a good father to his children and compensate for the heartbreak Angie endured all these years.
Old Woman Brought Son’s Favorite Pastry to His Grave & Found Note Saying ‘Thank You’ upon Her Return – Story of the Day
For Nancy her son Henry was everything, she never imagined her life without him. It had been 23 years since the horrible accident that took Henry’s life. Every year on that day, she took his favorite pie to his grave to honor his memory. But this year, everything was about to change.
For 23 years, Nancy, now 61, never missed a single day on this date. She baked her late son’s favorite pie and took it to his grave every year since.
The pie, a simple yet delicious apple and cinnamon creation, had been Henry’s favorite since childhood.
The scent of apples and cinnamon brought back memories of when Henry was little, running into the kitchen, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the pie.
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It was his favorite dessert, and baking it had become a tradition they both cherished.
Since Henry’s tragic accident at 17, this ritual had been Nancy’s way of keeping his memory alive.
It gave her a sense of connection to him, like she was still doing something special for her boy. Losing him had been the hardest thing she had ever gone through. The pain of that day never left her.
Even though the years had passed, her grief remained, only softened by time and the small comfort this tradition brought her.
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On this particular day, just like every year before, Nancy carefully carried the freshly baked pie to the graveyard.
The weight of the dish felt heavier, as it always did when she walked toward Henry’s resting place. The grave was neat and covered in flowers, a sign of how much he was still loved.
The stone had become smoother over the years, as she had often run her fingers over it, lost in her memories.
Nancy knelt, placing the pie gently on the gravestone. Her heart ached as she began to speak, her voice quiet, as though Henry might somehow hear her.
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“Henry, I hope you’re at peace, my love. I miss you every day. I baked your favorite pie again. Remember how we used to bake it together? You’d always sneak a taste before it was done.”
She smiled, but her eyes were misty with tears. “I wish we could do that one more time.”
The familiar sorrow welled up inside her, but Nancy had learned over the years to push through the tears.
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She wiped her eyes quickly and managed a small smile. After a few more moments of silence, she kissed her fingers and touched the top of the gravestone as she said her quiet goodbye.
Then, with a heavy but comforted heart, she turned and walked away, knowing she’d be back next year, just like always.
The next day, as part of her routine, Nancy made her way back to Henry’s grave to clean up the remains of the pie.
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Usually, by the time she returned, the pie was either untouched or spoiled by the weather, a quiet reminder of her son’s absence.
She had always found it a bittersweet comfort, knowing the pie stayed where she left it as if waiting for him.
But today, as she approached the grave, something felt different. Nancy’s heart skipped a beat when she saw that the plate was clean—completely empty. For a moment, she stood frozen in disbelief.
Then, she noticed something else. Resting on the plate was a small piece of paper, folded in half.
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Nancy’s hands trembled as she picked up the note. Her breath caught in her throat as she unfolded it.
The handwriting was shaky, as though whoever had written it had struggled to form the letters. The simple words read: “Thank you.”
Her heart pounded with confusion and anger.
“Who would take Henry’s pie?” she muttered under her breath, clutching the note tightly. “This was for my son. No one had the right to touch it!”
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Her private ritual, her way of honoring and remembering her son, had been invaded by a stranger.
She felt violated, as if someone had stolen a piece of her grief.
With her emotions swirling—part outrage, part confusion—Nancy left the cemetery, her mind set on finding the person who had taken her son’s pie. She had to know who had done this, and why.
Determined to catch the culprit, Nancy decided she would take matters into her own hands. She couldn’t let someone continue to disturb the way she honored Henry. So, she devised a plan.
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That night, she baked another of Henry’s favorite pies, the same apple and cinnamon recipe she had been making for over two decades.
The next morning, with renewed resolve, she placed the freshly baked pie on Henry’s grave, just like before, but this time she wasn’t leaving.
She found a large oak tree nearby and hid behind it, close enough to see the grave but far enough to not be noticed.
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The warm aroma of the pie drifted through the air, filling the quiet cemetery.
Time passed slowly as Nancy watched and waited, her heart racing in anticipation.
An hour later, she spotted movement. A small figure cautiously approached the grave. Nancy squinted, leaning forward to get a better look.
It wasn’t the greedy thief she had imagined. No, this was something entirely different.
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A young boy, no older than 9, with ragged clothes and dirt smudged on his face, moved toward the pie with hesitant steps.
Nancy’s heart tightened as she watched him. The boy didn’t immediately take the pie.
Instead, he knelt by the grave and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small scrap of paper and a dull pencil. His hand trembled as he carefully scribbled something on the paper, his brow furrowed with concentration.
It was clear the boy struggled with writing, but he took his time, making sure each word was legible.
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Nancy’s heart softened as she saw him write “Thank you” on the paper, just like before. He wasn’t a thief. He wasn’t someone disrespecting Henry’s memory. He was just a hungry child, grateful for the kindness of a pie left behind.
The anger that had once consumed Nancy melted away in an instant. She realized this boy wasn’t stealing; he was surviving. He was in need, and her son’s favorite pie had somehow brought him comfort.
As the boy began to pick up the pie, his small hands shaking, Nancy stepped out from her hiding spot.
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The rustle of leaves under her feet made him freeze, wide-eyed. Startled, he dropped the pie, and it tumbled onto the grass. His face paled, and he backed away, looking terrified.
“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry!” the boy cried, his voice trembling with panic. “I was just so hungry, and the pie was so good. Please don’t be mad.”
Nancy’s heart softened instantly. The sight of him—thin, dirty, and scared—erased any trace of anger she had felt before.
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She knelt beside him, speaking gently, her voice as comforting as she could make it. “It’s alright, sweetheart. I’m not mad at you, Where are your parents?” she said, her tone soothing. The boy stayed silent and shook his head. “What’s your name?” Nancy asked another question understanding that the boy had nowhere to go.
“Jimmy,” he muttered, still avoiding her eyes, ashamed of what he had done.
“Well, Jimmy,” Nancy smiled softly, trying to reassure him, “it’s okay. You don’t have to steal pies. If you’re hungry, all you had to do was ask.”
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Jimmy looked up at her, his lips quivering as he tried to speak. “I didn’t mean to steal,” he said, his voice small and shaky. “I just… I don’t get to eat much, and that pie was the best thing I’ve ever had.”
Nancy’s heart ached for him, her mind flooded with thoughts of how different this boy’s life must be.
The hunger in his eyes reminded her of her own son, Henry, when he would eagerly wait for that first bite of her freshly baked pie.
But Henry never had to worry about where his next meal would come from. Jimmy, on the other hand, looked like he had been living with hunger for a long time.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Come with me,” Nancy said after a moment of thought. She stood up and reached out her hand to him. “I’ll bake you a fresh pie, just for you.”
Jimmy’s eyes widened in disbelief, as if he couldn’t trust his own ears. “Really?” he asked, his voice filled with a mix of hope and doubt.
Nancy nodded, her heart filled with a strange but comforting warmth. “Yes, really. You don’t have to be afraid.”
Slowly, Jimmy reached out and took Nancy’s hand.
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She led him back to her home, the boy walking beside her in silence, his eyes darting around as if he wasn’t sure if this was all real. Nancy’s heart swelled with the thought of what she was about to do.
Baking had always been her way of expressing love, and now, after years of baking for a son she could no longer see, she was about to bake for someone who truly needed it.
When they reached her cozy kitchen, Nancy set to work, rolling out the dough, slicing the apples, and adding the perfect amount of cinnamon—just as she had done so many times before.
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Jimmy watched her quietly from the corner of the kitchen, his eyes wide as he followed every move she made.
The smell of the pie began to fill the room, warm and comforting, like a hug from a long-lost friend.
Once the pie was baked, Nancy placed it in front of Jimmy. “Here you go, sweetheart,” she said softly.
“This one’s all for you.”
Jimmy hesitated for a moment, as if he couldn’t believe what was happening. But then he grabbed a slice and took a bite. His face lit up with joy, his eyes sparkling as he chewed.
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“This is the best pie I’ve ever had,” he said, his mouth still full. He ate with such happiness that it brought tears to Nancy’s eyes.
She watched him in silence, thinking about how something as simple as a pie could bring so much comfort to someone.
As Jimmy devoured the warm slices with obvious delight, Nancy couldn’t help but think of Henry.
She had always dreamed of seeing her son eat his favorite pie again, of watching him enjoy it the way he used to when he was a child.
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But now, in some strange and unexpected way, she was sharing it with another boy who needed it just as much.
Watching Jimmy eat, Nancy felt a deep sense of peace wash over her. Perhaps this was how it was meant to be.
Maybe fate had brought Jimmy into her life for a reason. By feeding him, by offering him kindness when he needed it most, she was honoring Henry’s memory in a way she had never imagined.
For the first time in years, Nancy felt that her grief had led her to something beautiful—a connection, a purpose that gave new meaning to her life.
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Maybe, just maybe, this was Henry’s way of sending her a message—that love and kindness should always find their way back to those in need.
Nancy smiled as she watched Jimmy finish the last slice of pie, her heart full of warmth and gratitude.
She had found an unexpected connection in the most unlikely place, and it filled her soul in a way that nothing else had in years.
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: Martha was always quiet and smiling. No matter how hard or small the task, she was always ready to help. One of her colleagues, Chelsea, often took advantage of Martha’s kind nature by asking her to do her work for her. But this time, Chelsea unintentionally did Martha a favor.
This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.
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