A mom and her three children took the wrong bus and ended up lost. She realized she couldn’t buy her children food until a low voice startled her, offering much-needed assistance.
Julia had no choice but to raise her three growing children alone after her husband left her. He had been cheating on her with her best friend, and once she found out about their love triangle, he left her and stopped supporting their children.
At the time, Julia was devastated. She thought her life was ruined. She suffered from major trust issues after being betrayed not just by her husband but also her best friend.
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“You have to pull yourself together, Julia. You have three children you need to raise. You can’t be sulking at home because of what they did to you. Use it as motivation to do better,” her mom said after seeing Julia crying in the bathroom.
Julia looked at her children and knew that her mom was right. She had to look after her kids and make sure they lived comfortable lives, even if it meant working two jobs to earn enough money.
Julia’s mom, Lisa, happily volunteered to care for the three kids while she was at work. She had two jobs, working a total of 14 hours a day.
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Every day, she would start working at six in the evening, working as a waiter. Then from one in the morning until eight, she would work as a housekeeper at an inn.
By the time she got home, she had about three hours until her children woke up. She’d use this time to sleep before waking up alongside her kids to play with them and clean the house.
Julia’s work schedule exhausted her, especially because she didn’t get enough sleep every day. This lack of sleep often caused her to be scatter-brained, unable to remember the simplest things.
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One weekend morning, Julia had to take her kids to the hospital for their vaccinations. On their way home, Julia accidentally mixed up the bus routes, and they ended up in a place in town they’d never been.
Unfortunately, it would take another hour before another bus came around. She bought tickets at the bus stop and they quietly sat there until her kids began to cry, yelling that they were hungry.
Julia walked to a nearby burger stand, where she ordered four burgers. When she was about to pay, she frantically searched for her wallet inside her bag, only to look up at the sky, defeated.
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“My wallet was right here,” she cried. “I just purchased our bus tickets!” She looked through her bag again.
“I’m sorry to hear that, ma’am,” the man who took her order said. “This part of town is notorious for pick-pockets.”
Julia looked at her kids, ashamed that she couldn’t buy them food. She apologized to them and told them they’d have to wait an hour before they could eat, only for them to cry even louder. “Mom, I haven’t eaten the whole day!” her daughter whined. “I’m so hungry!”
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At that moment, Julia was at her breaking point. Her eyes started to fill with tears. Suddenly, she heard a low voice say, “No worries.”
She looked up and saw the man from the burger stand taking out his wallet. He paid for the burgers, packed a bag for Julia, and handed it to her.
“Please, take this. It’s on the house,” he told her.
Julia looked at the man in shock. Tears started to stream down her face, and she thanked the man numerous times. “Thank you so much; you have no idea how much this means to me,” she told him. “Can I please ask for your number? I want to pay you back once I can get some money.”
The man shook his head. “It’s no big deal, and it’s a simple act of kindness I’d like to do for you.”
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Ever since that day, Julia always made sure to help someone out whenever she had the chance. After working two jobs for a few more years, she earned enough money to start her own business. She created a mobile app that allowed users to book different services, from housekeepers to nail technicians, laundry shops, car cleaners, and more.
One day, while in a business meeting, Julia came across the man who helped her several years back.
“You’re the guy from the burger stand,” she said. He smiled, recognizing her as well.
“You’re the mom with three crying children,” he recalled. “How have you been?”
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That conversation ended up being life-changing for both of them. Julia insisted on treating the man, who introduced himself as Jacob, to dinner. It was her way of paying him back.
She discovered Jacob was looking for a job and she decided to hire him as her executive secretary. He went with her to all her meetings and helped her grow her business.
Eventually, after spending so much time together and getting to know each other more, they fell in love. They married, and Jacob adopted Julia’s three children, loving them as his own.
What can we learn from this story?
- If you’re in the position to help someone, do it. The man felt terrible that Julia couldn’t feed her children when they were hungry, so he stepped in to help her. When you’re capable of helping someone in need, do it without expecting anything in return, as it could save that person from reaching their breaking point.
- What goes around comes around. After receiving an act of kindness, Julia paid it forward. Eventually, she came across the man who helped her again, this time in the position to help. This led to a beautiful working and personal relationship between them.
Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.
If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a beggar who gave half of his pizza to a hungry rich man, only for the man to give half his business to the beggar later on.
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.
Mom Discovers Message from Her Deceased Son After Visiting His Grave
Nancy loved her son Henry more than anything in the world. She couldn’t imagine life without him. It had been 23 years since a tragic accident had taken Henry’s life, but Nancy kept a special tradition alive every year to remember him. On the anniversary of his death, she always baked his favorite pie and took it to his grave.
For 23 years, Nancy, now 61, had never missed a single year. She baked the same pie every time—a simple but delicious apple and cinnamon pie, Henry’s favorite since he was little.
The smell of apples and cinnamon always reminded her of the old days, when Henry would rush into the kitchen with excitement whenever he saw her baking his favorite treat.
It had become their special tradition, one that Nancy kept close to her heart after Henry’s tragic death at 17. The pie was her way of keeping his memory alive. It gave her a small sense of closeness to him, as if she were still doing something special for her boy.
Even though many years had passed, the pain of losing Henry never really went away. But this tradition helped soften the sadness, giving her a little comfort each year.
On this day, like every other year, Nancy carefully carried the pie to Henry’s grave. The dish always felt heavy when she walked toward his resting place. His grave was neat and covered with flowers, a symbol of the love he had left behind.
She knelt by the gravestone, placed the pie gently on top, and spoke quietly. “Henry, I hope you’re at peace. I miss you every day. I baked your favorite pie again. Do you remember how we used to bake it together?” she said, smiling but with tears in her eyes. “I wish we could do that again.”
After a few moments, Nancy kissed her fingers and touched the gravestone softly before saying goodbye and walking away, knowing she would be back next year.
The next day, Nancy went back to Henry’s grave to clean up the leftover pie. Usually, the pie would either be untouched or spoiled by the weather. It was always a bittersweet reminder of Henry’s absence.
But when she got to the grave, something felt different. To her surprise, the plate was empty. Nancy’s heart skipped a beat, and she stood frozen in disbelief.
Then she noticed something else—a small piece of paper on the plate, folded in half.
Her hands shook as she picked it up and opened it. The handwriting was shaky, as if written by someone who struggled to write. The note simply said, “Thank you.”
Nancy’s heart raced with confusion and anger. “Who would take Henry’s pie?” she whispered to herself. She felt upset—this was a tradition just for her son. No one had the right to touch it.
Nancy felt a mix of emotions—outraged and confused. She couldn’t let someone disrespect her ritual. She decided to find out who had taken the pie.
That night, Nancy baked another pie, just like before, using Henry’s favorite apple and cinnamon recipe. The next morning, she returned to Henry’s grave, determined to catch whoever had taken the pie.
She hid behind a nearby tree and waited, watching the grave as time slowly passed.
Finally, after an hour, she saw a small figure approach. It was a young boy, no older than 9, dressed in ragged clothes and with dirt on his face. He walked slowly toward the pie.
Nancy watched carefully. The boy didn’t immediately take the pie. Instead, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a small piece of paper, and began writing something with a pencil, his hand trembling.
It took him a while, but eventually, the boy wrote “Thank you” on the paper, just like the note she had found the day before.
Nancy’s anger melted away. This boy wasn’t stealing; he was just hungry. Her son’s favorite pie had brought him comfort.
When the boy went to pick up the pie, Nancy stepped out from her hiding place, startling him. He dropped the pie, and his face turned pale with fear.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!” he cried. “I was just so hungry, and the pie was so good. Please don’t be mad.”
Nancy’s heart softened. She knelt beside him and said gently, “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m not mad. Where are your parents?”
The boy stayed quiet and shook his head. “What’s your name?” Nancy asked.
“Jimmy,” he whispered, looking down.
Nancy smiled softly and said, “Well, Jimmy, it’s okay. You don’t have to steal. If you’re hungry, you can just ask.”
Jimmy looked up, his eyes filled with hope and doubt. “Really?” he asked.
“Yes, really,” Nancy replied, her heart warmed by the thought. “You don’t have to be afraid.”
She offered him her hand, and slowly, Jimmy took it.
Nancy led him home, and when they got there, she baked a fresh pie for him. As the warm smell filled the kitchen, Jimmy watched in amazement, unable to believe what was happening.
When the pie was ready, Nancy placed it in front of him. “This one’s all for you,” she said.
Jimmy hesitated for a moment before grabbing a slice. His face lit up with happiness as he tasted it. “This is the best pie I’ve ever had,” he said.
Nancy watched him eat, her heart filled with emotion. As he enjoyed the pie, she thought of Henry, remembering how he used to eagerly wait for his first bite.
In a way, she was sharing her love for Henry with this boy, who needed comfort just as much.
As Jimmy finished the last bite, Nancy felt a deep sense of peace. Perhaps, she thought, this was how things were meant to be. Helping Jimmy had brought her a new purpose, a way to honor Henry’s memory by showing kindness to someone in need.
For the first time in years, Nancy felt her grief had led her to something beautiful—something that gave her life new meaning.
She smiled as Jimmy finished the last slice of pie, her heart full of warmth.
As Jimmy wiped his mouth and smiled, Nancy watched him with a quiet sense of peace. The sadness that had clung to her for so long seemed to lift, replaced by a warm feeling she hadn’t known in years. She had given him something small but meaningful, and in return, it had filled the empty space in her heart.
Jimmy looked up at her, his eyes shining with gratitude. “Thank you, Miss Nancy. I… I haven’t eaten like that in a long time.”
Nancy’s heart ached for him. She had been blessed to have the chance to care for Henry, and now, in a way, she was given the chance to care for Jimmy too. She took a deep breath and spoke softly, “You don’t have to thank me, Jimmy. You’re welcome here anytime. If you’re ever hungry, or if you need a place to stay, you come back, okay?”
Jimmy’s eyes filled with tears as he nodded, his small voice cracking with emotion. “I will. I promise.”
As the evening sun began to set, Nancy sat with him for a while, her heart full. For the first time since Henry passed, she felt a sense of hope and connection. Maybe this was the reason why she had kept the tradition alive for so many years—so she could share this love and warmth with someone who needed it most.
Jimmy stood up, his small frame looking a bit taller and stronger now. “I should go, but thank you. I’ll come back soon.”
Nancy watched as he walked down the path, a small smile on his face. Her kitchen, once filled with loneliness and grief, was now quiet but comforting. She glanced at the pie tin, empty except for a few crumbs, and it hit her: In that moment, the pie had been more than just a tradition. It had been an act of kindness that bridged the gap between loss and love.
As she closed the door, Nancy whispered to herself, “Maybe this is what Henry would have wanted. Maybe he sent Jimmy to me, so I could share his favorite pie, and in doing so, share the love that never faded.”
And with that thought, Nancy felt at peace, knowing that her son’s memory would live on—not just in the pie, but in the kindness she passed on to those who needed it most.
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a soft golden light across the quiet home, as Nancy smiled softly and sat down, ready for whatever tomorrow would bring.
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