A mother installs a baby monitor in her son’s room to keep an eye on him after she notices him tired and restless all the time – only to discover a sudden movement there that sends shivers down her spine…
“Don’t worry, honey. Everything will be fine. Momma is here,” Alicia whispered as she cradled her son Edduin in her arms. The boy had awoken in the middle of the night and refused to stop wailing.
After a while, Alicia had to move all of her files and laptop from the couch to the front table and sit on the couch with Edduin, singing him a lullaby. That didn’t seem to work for the first 10 minutes, but it did eventually, and Alicia breathed a sigh of relief.
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She gently placed Edduin back in the crib in his room, kissed his forehead, and closed the door quietly so as not to wake him, and returned to work.
“How will I manage everything like this? I wish you were here, John! I miss you!” the woman thought as she proceeded to the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee.
Almost a year ago…
When doctors told Alicia Silvers and her husband John that they wouldn’t have children, they decided to travel around the world. Shows at the Sydney Opera House, tranquil beaches in Honolulu, tables and buffets in Las Vegas, and majestic fjords in Bergen.
They were going to schedule a trip to the Bahamas when Alicia discovered that she was pregnant. She and John were overjoyed and returned to their hometown Fayetteville, North Carolina, to celebrate the moment with close friends and neighbors.
Alicia and John were both orphans, and they were raised in foster care. Alicia was a stay-at-home wife, while John worked as the managing director of a firm that made parts for household electronics.
They had all they could have wanted in a happy marriage. They had a wonderful home in a lovely area, they enjoyed each other’s company, and now they had the delight of becoming parents. But sadly, this happiness didn’t last long, as Alicia’s world came crumbling down one fateful evening.
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“Hello? Am I talking to Alicia Silvers?”
“Yes? How may I help?”
“This is Officer Duncan, ma’am. I’m sorry to inform you that your husband was killed in a terrible car accident on Farm Road Highway. We got your contact number from his phone. We’d appreciate it if you could come and confirm the body as soon as possible.”
Alicia couldn’t believe what she was hearing! That morning John had left telling her he was going out of town for a business meeting. She didn’t want him to leave and had told him she didn’t feel right about it. But he’d convinced her that she was overreacting and that everything would be fine.
Alicia was 7 months along with her pregnancy at the time. When John insisted on leaving for his meeting, she relented and kissed him goodbye. He’d promised to return soon, but when she heard the terrible news, she couldn’t bear the shock and went into labor.
Thankfully, she quickly dialed her next-door neighbor, Mrs. Hall, who rushed to her house and called 911. Alicia was immediately rushed to the hospital, where she gave birth to a baby boy. However, due to his premature birth, he was admitted to the NICU for some time.
When Alicia and the baby were discharged from the hospital, she took over John’s business and began working to support her son. Understanding the company dynamics didn’t take her long because she had an MBA. Problems arose because Edduin was very small and constantly demanded his mother’s attention.
John’s secretary, Madison, was extremely helpful to her and understood her situation, so she suggested that Alicia work from home and assisted her in setting up her workspace so that Alicia could care for her baby.
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Yes, Alicia could have hired a nanny to look after the boy, but she didn’t want to do that. She wanted to look after her baby on her own, so she started working from home. In that way, somehow, Alicia managed to look after her son and work simultaneously.
Almost a year passed like that. Little did Alicia know she’d soon have another trouble knocking at her door.
The present-day…
As Alicia made a cup of coffee and proceeded to the living room, she arranged all her files and decided to take a final look at the reports for the day. It was around 1 a.m. It took her half an hour to wrap up the work, and the woman retired on the couch due to tiredness.
Suddenly, she awoke at 8 o’clock in the morning due to Edduin’s crying sound. She jumped to her feet and dashed over to him, where she discovered him with tears streaming down his cheeks like a waterfall.
“What happened, honey? Are you hungry?” she asked as she started rocking him. This was the second time in a week that Alicia had noticed Edduin was restless and crying uncontrollably during his sleep.
She looked inside his crib to see if there was anything that was poking him, but she couldn’t find anything. Finally, she concluded that he might be fine after a while and decided to wait and see if the crying continued.
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Thankfully, Edduin’s abrupt crying stopped after a week or so, much to her relief, but he appeared to be very tired every day. He kept yawning and touching his face whenever she held him in her arms or tried to play with him, and the toys he’d previously adored seemed uninteresting to him.
Worried, she contacted a doctor about it, but even that didn’t seem really fruitful.
“I’m worried because he seems really calm most of the time, doctor, but he also looks tired in the mornings. Why is that so?” asked Alicia, worried.
“Don’t worry, Mrs. Silvers. Babies seem to have a phase,” the doctor advised her. “Perhaps Edduin is going through the same.”
“But how long will it take for him to be fine? I’m really worried about him.”
“Don’t worry much, Mrs. Silvers. There is no such time frame, but everything will be fine. It varies from one baby to another.”
Thinking it was one of those phases, Alicia hoped Edduin would be fine soon. But even after a week, there was no relief, and Edduin just looked more tired with each passing day.
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One afternoon, Alicia decided to check on him after putting him to sleep and heard a strange noise coming from his room. It seemed as if Edduin was giggling and there was someone in his room. At first, she thought it was just her suspicion because she burst open the door but didn’t find anyone inside.
Edduin was staring at her from his crib, and the room was strangely quiet. She looked in the bathroom, inside the cupboard, and under the bed, but no one was in the room.
Alicia returned to the living room, thinking it was work-related stress, but the activity continued the next day and the next. Every day, Edduin would jolt awake from his sound sleep, giggling or simply staring around the room.
Thinking something was off, Alicia installed a Wi-Fi baby monitor inside to keep a watch on Edduin and sat in the living room, watching the live feed.
She fixed her gaze on the screen, watching it intently, and everything appeared to be fine for the first few minutes. However, after about 10 minutes, she noticed a sudden movement in the room and Edduin’s lip tilting in a smile.
Fearing that someone had crept into Edduin’s room, Alicia dashed to his room and slammed the door open. Her hands trembled, and she shivered in terror as she realized her baby wasn’t alone in the room.
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However, Alicia heaved a sigh of relief when she saw that the visitor was no one but a cute little dog circling Edduin’s crib. He appeared dirty and weak, and he made a low sound that was difficult to hear.
When Alicia opened Edduin’s door, the little dog hid behind Edduin’s crib. Edduin began to giggle, and that’s when Alica understood what had happened.
It turns out that Alicia and John had a pet dog named Doblo, and they’d forgotten to close the dog door in the back of the room after he died. That room used to be Doblo’s game room, but it was converted into a nursery for Edduin after he died.
Since a lot had happened after John had left for his heavenly abode and Edduin was born, Alicia completely forgot to close the dog door. And that’s how the little dog got into the room, playing with Edduin all the time and refusing to let him sleep.
Alicia felt terrible for the poor animal after seeing it in that state and decided to adopt it. Casper, as she named him, is now Edduin’s best friend. A huge thanks to little Casper, now Edduin doesn’t cry as much, sleeps well because Alicia makes sure the two don’t spend all of their time together, and is a much happier baby.
What can we learn from this story?
- Becoming a parent is not an easy task. Alicia managing her work and looking after her baby simultaneously is an excellent example of how parents go above and beyond for their children.
- Learn to be kind to animals. Alicia adopted the dog after seeing he was in a terrible state.
If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a woman who buys a strange Christmas ball at a flea market and discovers a note inside it with an address.
This account is inspired by our reader’s story 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.
My Daughter’s MIL Called Me a Beggar and Kicked Me Out of My Granddaughter’s Birthday Party – Story of the Day
I spent the little I had just to see my granddaughter smile on her birthday. But before she even saw me, her other grandma called me a beggar and wanted to have me thrown out, like I didn’t matter at all.
Five years.
That’s how long I had been living in silence…
Silence after Linda, my wife.
Silence after Emily, our daughter.
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Every morning, I woke up more from habit than will. I opened the kitchen window, breathed in the cold air, and sat at the same table, watching the same patch of light crawl across the wall.
When it reached the shelf with the teacups, I knew morning had come.
And that I was still alone.
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It had started that winter. Linda had fallen ill. She was shivering, coughing, and barely eating.
“I’ll call an ambulance,” I told her that evening. “We’re not playing games here, honey.”
“Oh, Frank, come on,” she waved her hand from under the blanket. “We can’t afford another medical bill. I’ll drive to the pharmacy myself. It’s five minutes.”
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“Linda, please,” I begged. “Don’t go. I’ll go. Or we’ll call a taxi.”
“I’m not a child. Just give me the keys, okay?”
I stood in the hallway holding her purse, watching her pull on her coat. For a moment, I thought of stopping her. But I didn’t.
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She smiled.
“I’ll be back soon. Put the kettle on.”
I did.
But she never came back.
Her car slid off the road on black ice. A truck didn’t stop in time.
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At the funeral, I held myself together until Emily approached. I tried to explain.
“Sweetheart… it was an accident. I tried to stop her.”
She didn’t meet my eyes.
“You should’ve tried harder. If you’d just once stood your ground… And now she’s dead. Because you let her leave.”
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I wanted to speak, to explain, to shout…. But the words never left my throat. So, that was the last time we spoke.
Since then — nothing.
I called every few months. Sent little notes. Photos from the past — her first bike ride, Christmas by the fireplace.
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Sometimes I left voicemails like:
“Hi, Emily. It’s Dad. Just wanted to hear your voice.”
But the silence remained. No replies. Not even a card for Christmas.
I learned how to live cheaply. Slept in my coat in winter when the radiator barely worked. Lived on tea and dry toast.
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My pension wasn’t much, but I saved every spare penny. I stashed it in an old biscuit tin in the wardrobe, under my folded shirts.
It was my safety net. For when I got too sick to care for myself. For the time when no one would be around to help me. I never touched that money. Not for food, not even when my shoes had holes in them.
Better to freeze now than beg later.
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One morning, I stared at the latest electric bill. The numbers blurred in front of me.
“That’s it. I’ve had enough.”
On the grocery store bulletin board, I noticed a handwritten note:
“Looking for a part-time janitor at Little Pines Preschool. Morning shift.”
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I stood in front of it for a long time. Eventually, I pulled off the tab with the number and slipped it into my coat pocket.
I thought I was just taking a job. I had no idea I was about to find the one thing I never dared hope for.
***
I started working at the preschool the following week.
I woke up at dawn, drank strong coffee, pulled on my old brown sweater, and stepped out into the still-dark morning.
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Where there had once been silence, finally there was laughter. Tiny faces, bright jackets, and backpacks tangled with dinosaurs and mermaids.
I didn’t feel like an outsider. Quite the opposite.
“Good morning, Frank!”
The kids always shouted the moment I opened the gate.
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I became part of their morning ritual. They waved at me with mittened hands, brought me leaves and chestnuts, they insisted we “absolutely must plant.”
But one little girl stood out from the rest from the very beginning.
“Are you a real shovel master?” she asked seriously on my first day, as I raked up wet leaves near the playground slide.
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“Well, depends on how you look at it,” I said, scratching the back of my head. “I don’t have a diploma, but I’ve got years of experience.”
She laughed — a big, honest laugh, without fear of the new stranger.
“I’m Sophie. And I’m the boss of the Yellow Bunnies group.”
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I smiled.
“Very pleased to meet you, Miss Bunny. My name is Frank.”
After that, Sophie was always nearby.
If I fixed a fence, she held the nails. If I swept the yard, she wiped the benches with a cloth. She was like a small sun — endlessly curious, a little bold, not like the other kids.
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“Do you have a dog?”
“Were you ever a famous singer?”
“Have you ever flown to the moon?”
I answered every question as if it were the most important thing in the world. Sophie nodded seriously, as if filing that information away for later.
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One afternoon, as we sat together on a bench, she pulled a pendant out from under her sweater. Small, round, silver. Delicate engravings around the edge.
My breath caught.
“What a beautiful necklace. Who gave it to you?”
“My Mom! And she got it from my grandma.”
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She patted the pendant proudly.
“It brings good luck. Mom says, ‘Wear it when you’re sad — Grandma will be right there with you.’”
I managed a weak smile.
I knew that pendant.
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I had picked it out myself for Linda in a jewelry store 30 years ago. Linda had given it to Emily on her 18th birthday.
I remembered whispering back then:
“For our little star.”
I wanted to say something. Anything. But I just nodded.
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“Do you have a granddaughter?” Sophie suddenly asked, looking straight into my eyes.
I swallowed hard.
“Maybe I do. Maybe I don’t. I don’t really know.”
“That’s sad,” she said thoughtfully. “How can someone not know about their own granddaughter?”
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I shrugged, staring down at the faded sand under our feet.
“Sometimes people get lost. And sometimes… others lose them.”
Suddenly, Sophie grabbed my hand.
“My birthday’s coming up soon. I’ll be five! Will you come?”
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“If you invite me,” I smiled, “I’ll definitely be there.”
“I’ll make you a special invitation myself, okay?”
“Okay.”
“There’s going to be lots of balloons! And cake! But don’t bring me a present, please. I already asked Mom for a piano, but she said it’s too much. Cake’s enough.”
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“I’ll think about it. Maybe someone will show up with music anyway.”
Sophie laughed joyfully and ran back to her group.
I stayed sitting there on the bench. I didn’t know for sure. But my heart was already shouting — that was her. That was my granddaughter.
And if I was wrong, so be it. But if I was right…
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***
The restaurant buzzed with music and laughter. Bright balloons floated against the ceiling, and a giant pink cake stood proudly on a long table surrounded by gifts.
I stood quietly near the entrance, holding a small box in my hand — a tiny piano charm on a silver chain, wrapped carefully, trembling slightly in my fingers.
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I had ironed my old white shirt until it nearly shone. My brown jacket, worn but clean, hung loose on my shoulders.
I wasn’t anyone special there. Just a man at the edge of someone else’s celebration.
Across the room, I saw Sophie. Her hair was tied up in two bouncy pigtails, her eyes lighting up when she spotted me.
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She began waving, her face beaming, but before she could get close, a hand clamped down on her shoulder.
Marianne. My daughter’s MIL. Tall, sharp-eyed, her pearl suit immaculate.
She bent low to Sophie, whispering harsh words into her ear, before steering her away, casting a glance at me. Recognition flickered across her face. Her mouth twisted into a tight smile, a hunter spotting a trapped prey.
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“Well, look who crawled out from under a rock,” she said, just loud enough for others to hear.
“How touching. Thought you’d come begging, old man?”
I stiffened. “I’m here because Sophie invited me. Not for anything else.”
Marianne’s laugh was cruel.
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“Oh, of course. That’s why you disappeared for five years, right? Left poor Emily to grieve alone while you drank yourself into oblivion?”
I opened my mouth to protest, but the injustice caught in my throat. Behind Marianne, I saw Emily returning with a tray of cupcakes. She hadn’t seen us yet.
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Marianne leaned closer, her voice a hiss:
“You think you can just show up and they’ll welcome you with open arms? After everything?”
I shook my head.
“I never left. I wrote. I called. I sent letters. Every Christmas, every birthday…”
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She laughed again, low and bitter.
“And what letters? What calls? Emily never got anything from you.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Emily finally looking at us. Frowning. Approaching.
“You’re lying,” I said, louder this time.
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“Am I? Then where were all those precious letters?”
Emily was close now, close enough to hear.
“I sent you letters too!” she blurted out, her voice cracking. “I wrote… I wrote so many times… birthday cards, Christmas cards… You never answered!”
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My heart lurched.
“I never got them. Not one.”
For a heartbeat, silence hung between us. Emily turned slowly to Marianne, horror dawning in her eyes.
“You said… You said he didn’t want anything to do with me. You told me he didn’t care.”
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Marianne’s face hardened.
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“I protected you. He’s a burden, Emily! Always was. I did what I had to do.”
“You stole my letters,” Emily said, her voice rising. “You lied to me! For years!”
A few guests were watching now, their smiles fading into uncomfortable glances.
“And you,” Emily turned on me, tears brimming. “You thought I didn’t care either.”
I nodded, throat too tight to speak.
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Suddenly, a delivery truck pulled up outside. Two men climbed out, wrestling a small upright piano onto the sidewalk.
“Delivery for Sophie!”
I looked down at my shoes.
“I don’t have much,” I said quietly. “Just my pension. But I saved for that. For her.”
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Emily covered her mouth with her hands, shaking her head.
“I thought you didn’t love me anymore.”
“I never stopped loving you. Not for a second.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
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Without warning, Emily stumbled forward and threw her arms around me, squeezing tightly, as if afraid I might vanish.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Dad.”
I held her back, my chest breaking open from years of silence and grief.
Meanwhile, Marianne stood frozen, pale and rigid, ignored by everyone around her.
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Sophie, clutching a balloon, peeked out from behind a chair.
“The storm ended?”
Emily wiped her eyes and knelt beside her.
“Sophie… This is your grandpa. The best man in the world.”
Sophie looked up at me, grinned, and said, loud and clear:
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“So… you do have a granddaughter after all, huh? Now you really know.”
For a second, the whole world seemed to hold its breath. I laughed and dropped to my knees to pull her into my arms.
We had lost so many years. But standing there, holding Sophie in my arms, I knew — the best ones were still ahead.
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