‘I’m Waiting for Mom,’ Girl Says to Park Janitor, Next Day He Sees Her Still Sitting at Same Spot – Story of the Day

A park janitor meets a lonely little girl who says she is waiting for her mom. He is surprised when he sees her again the next day, still sitting on the same bench, and calls the police.

Albert Fairchild was the custodian of a lovely old Victorian park in the middle of the city, and his time was spent making sure it was a little corner of heaven, a place where lovers met, and people went to get in touch with nature or for a little peace of mind.

He loved his job. Every day he wandered through the park, raking the paths, emptying the bins, and making sure everything was perfect, and twice a week, the city gardeners came around to take care of the lawns, trees, and plants.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

One afternoon, Albert saw a little girl sitting quietly at one of the park’s picnic tables, coloring in a picture book. She was surely no more than four or five, but she was all alone! Albert looked around, but he couldn’t see her parents. Something had to be wrong…

Albert approached the little girl and greeted her. “Hello there, little miss. What are you doing out here all on your own? Trying to catch the fairies?”

The little girl looked up at Albert. “You’re a stranger, and I’m not supposed to talk to strangers,” she said.

“No, you are not,” Albert agreed. “But you’ll see I’m not asking you to go anywhere with me, and I’m not offering you candy. I just want to know where your mom is and why you’re alone.”

“I’m waiting for mom,” the child said. “She had a job interview across the road, and she asked me to wait here for her. Mom said not to talk to strangers and not to go anywhere. I have my juice and a snack, and she will be back very soon!”

Nothing is impossible, so keep going until you accomplish what you want.

Albert frowned. It wasn’t exactly safe to leave a child in a public park, but he knew that sometimes single moms with no resources or family had to do the best they could — and it sounded as if this mom was unemployed and desperate to boot.

“What’s your name, little miss?” Albert asked.

The girl giggled. “My name is Margaret,” she said.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“That’s a HUGE name!” exclaimed Albert. “It’s three times as big as you are!”

“My mom calls me Meg,” she confessed, laughing. “And I DON’T believe in fairies!”

Albert gasped and clutched at his heart. “I’m shocked, little miss Meg!” he laughed. “I believe in fairies. In fact, I see them all the time! I have to chase them away from the fountains ’cause they insist on taking showers and breaking the rainbows!”

Meg was grinning. “That’s a LIE!” she giggled. “That’s BAD!”

“Well,” Albert said. “I have a lot of work to do, but I’ll be keeping an eye on you, making sure the fairies don’t pull your pigtails. If you need me, Meg, just holler, and I’ll come running, OK?”

Albert walked away, but he kept glancing back over his shoulder. He wished he had a little person just like Meg in his life, a little granddaughter, but he knew it was not to be.

He could not help but pause his work and silently cry as the little girl reminded him of his own granddaughter and the fateful tragedy that toppled his life.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pixabay

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pixabay

Five years ago, Albert was a cop who loved his duty more than anything else. At home, he was a loving and caring husband, a doting father, and an adorable grandfather. “But if it had not been for that day…” Albert reminisced about the fateful day.

It was a pleasant Sunday in May that year. Albert’s family was leaving on a much-awaited dream vacation by the sea in the neighboring city. He had taken a week off to enjoy himself with his family. Albert still remembered his granddaughter Emily running back inside to bring her teddy bear, Chelsea.

“How happy she was that morning!” he thought. Her laughter still haunted him because he never got to see her again. Albert wanted to drive and wouldn’t leave the driver’s seat even when his son-in-law, Josh, persuaded and pleaded.

“It’s your day, dad! I will drive. You need to rest and enjoy this trip,” he told Albert, who refused to get down from his minivan. Albert would’ve never moved out if it were not for a sudden call from the station.

“I’m on my way,” he spoke. “I got to go. I got an important lead for an investigation. You guys get going. I’ll catch up tomorrow evening!” he told his family. They were disappointed, especially little Emily. She wanted to sing songs and play with Albert.

“Sweetie, grandpa will be there tomorrow. It’s just a day!”

Albert and Emily blew endless flying kisses as the minivan sped past the gate. Albert left for work immediately, and it was almost time to return home in the evening when he got a call from the city station.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

An hour later, he was taken to the morgue in the city hospital. His heart dropped when four stretchers were wheeled out, the last was Emily’s. His whole world was destroyed in a car crash.

“The minivan lost control and rammed into a truck,” officers told him, patting his shoulder. In a wink, Albert had lost his family, and there was no coming back. No more laughter. No more vacations. And no more loud cries of a little girl shouting, ‘Grandpa! I’m home!’

Albert could not forgive himself. “I should have driven that minivan. I shouldn’t have allowed Josh to drive it,” he thought and cried over a million times. But nothing was going to change.

“Jose, I should’ve canceled that trip. I should’ve never let them go,” he cried to his best friend at the funeral, placing Emily’s teddy bear, Chelsea, on her grave.

Days, months, and five years passed. These questions still haunted Albert, but it didn’t matter to him. He knew he had lost his family forever. They were not going to come back; it was the ugly truth he had learned to embrace over time.

Albert could not focus on his work. The cop job he loved became a constant reminder of his tragic life. He quit it and started taking care of the park. He just wanted to stay away from everything that reminded him of his loss.

A gush of wind snapped Albert to the present as he wiped away his tears. The evening sun irritated his teary eyes as he looked around for the little girl. “Where is she??” he exclaimed when he saw Meg was not in her place.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Albert hastily looked around the park for the girl. But she was not there. “Maybe her mother took her,” he thought. Convinced Meg had gone home, Albert finished raking the lawn and went home.

But the following morning, when he returned to the park, he saw Meg again, sitting in the same spot, wearing the same dress, and holding her teddy. Albert was stunned.

“Hey, there, little miss!” he greeted the girl. “What are you doing here so early?”

“Mommy didn’t come,” she disappointedly said. “She never came for me.”

“What?? Where did you go last evening, then? And where did you sleep?”

“Home,” Meg replied, resting her teary face on her teddy. She refused to look up at Albert. She was least interested in talking to him and kept looking around to see if her mother had come to take her.

“What happened to her mother?” Albert wondered.

“Hey, there, I’m a former policeman. You can trust me, alright?” he said. “I’m afraid your mother got lost in this huge city. Can you take me to your home? We will find your mother, alright?”

But Meg wouldn’t move. Her strong belief her mother would come for her didn’t let her move from that bench.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pixabay

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pixabay

“Meg, listen, I know you are frightened. But there’s nothing to be afraid of. You can trust me, okay? What’s your mother’s name?”

When Meg told Albert her mother’s name, she had difficulty pronouncing the surname. Albert asked Meg to repeat the word several times because he knew he could not search for her mother without knowing the surname. He needed her full name to probe everywhere, including online databases. After hearing Meg out repeatedly, Albert guessed her mom’s surname could be ‘D’Cruz.’

“Listen, we need to go to your home. Do you want to see your mother?”

“Yes, I want to see mommy,” Meg replied, finally looking at Albert.

“Then take me to your house.”

Moments later, Meg led Albert to a tarp tent under a secluded bridge not far from the park’s entrance. “This is my home,” she pointed.

Albert partially understood Meg and her mother were homeless. He inspected the tarp tent that barely had an old mattress and a camping stove with a pot smelling of stale porridge. There were a few old clothes of Meg’s in the tent, but no photos or pictures. At first glance, he thought Meg’s mother could’ve abandoned her. But something still didn’t add up to him.

“How long have you been living here?” he asked the girl.

“Few weeks,” replied Meg. “We once had a big house. But big, angry men in uniform shouted at my mommy for not giving money. Mommy cried, and even I cried. They threw our things out, and mommy brought me here.”

Albert once again checked the tent for clues but apparently found nothing that could help him find Meg’s mother. “Do you have your mother’s photo?”

“No, I had one, but it’s with mommy.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

Albert was puzzled about what to do next. “I cannot leave the girl alone here,” he thought, and before he could fathom anything, Meg asked him to take her back to the park.

“Mommy told me to wait there and not go anywhere. If she comes, she will scold me. Please take me to the park.”

Albert did not know what to do and agreed. Meg and he returned to the park, and he sat her down on the bench. Albert knew Meg would have starved the whole night, so he gave her his lunch.

“Mommy told me not to eat from strangers,” Meg refused, but her eyes and nose couldn’t deny the delicious aroma of the pie in Albert’s lunch box.

Ummm, that tastes delicious. Sweet. Ummm,” Albert ate a spoonful in front of Meg. “If you don’t want it, I’ll eat it fully. I can finish the whole pie in two minutes. You sure you don’t want it?!”

Meg grabbed the lunchbox and started devouring the pie. Albert was pleased his trick worked and went on with his work while Meg waited for her mother.

Hours passed, and it was close to sundown, but her mom never came. Meg burst into tears, and Albert’s heart wouldn’t allow him to leave her alone again.

“Do you want to go home with me? We will come back tomorrow and wait for your mother, alright?” he asked Meg.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pixabay

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pixabay

Meg agreed and went home with Albert. “Yeah, I only know her name is Margaret. But I don’t have a clue about her mother. Could you please let me know? She said her mom has blonde hair, is tall, age must be around 24 or 25, I guess,” Albert informed his former colleagues in the department.

Meg could not spell her mother’s name accurately and gave vague descriptions of her appearance. But Albert could not say anything for sure. He made out a name and a surname using Meg’s broken spellings but was unsure if it was correct.

“When will mommy come?” Meg asked Albert.

“She will come soon, sweetie. Now go to that room and change your dress. You’ll find a lot of clothes in the little cupboard. I’ll make dinner meanwhile.”

Meg returned minutes later wearing Emily’s pajamas. She ran around Albert as he whisked the eggs and giggled to an old song playing on the gramophone. For the first time in five years, Albert never felt lonely.

Albert was on the phone the whole night as Meg slept in Emily’s room. He wanted to find her mother at any cost and was busy working at it with his friends.

“No, pal,” an officer called him late at night. “We even checked reports of murders of young women with similar descriptions and surnames, but no lead. There were no instances reported recently.”

Albert sighed, assured Meg’s mother was alive somewhere. While putting out the lights in Emily’s room, he saw Meg curled up and fast asleep on her bed.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pixabay

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pixabay

Albert was up until the wee hours, gathering contact details of hospitals in the city. He suddenly woke up when the morning rays irritated his sleepy eyes. He was exhausted and had slept off in his armchair.

“Oh my God, Meg??” he ran to check on her, thinking she would’ve gone to the park alone while he was dozing. “Jesus, thank goodness!” he sighed when he saw she was still fast asleep.

Albert then contacted every hospital in the city to find out about Meg’s mother. He even reached out to a friend in the morgue, but nothing helped. Nobody had heard about the woman with his description and surname.

Albert was puzzled about what to do next. “Cops will hardly try and carefully look for a homeless woman. And if I have to send her to a foster home, she’ll likely never see her mother again,” he thought. Then, Albert realized that the only reliable way to help Meg was to search for her mother on his own. It was not for nothing he was a cop for 30 years.

Albert brought Meg to the park every day and sat her in the exact spot her mother last left her. He asked his friends to watch over her while he searched for the missing woman. Albert knew he could not do all this while working, so he took a few days off.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

He first started visiting all the homeless shelters in the city and neighboring towns. “Her name is Candy D’Cruz… Do you know someone with that name?” he asked almost everyone he encountered.

He checked with all the offices that had a “We’re Hiring” sign to find out if Meg’s mother had, by chance, attended any interviews. He even checked in several refuges he knew of, but nothing turned up. Nobody had seen a woman with the name Candy D’Cruz.

Albert even searched on social media and showed Meg the photos of several women with similar names, but none of them was her mother. He checked every street and traffic camera near the park but could not find a clue.

A month passed, and Albert almost lost hope of finding Meg’s mother. All his attempts were fruitless. But Meg never gave up and refused to do anything other than visit the park daily, waiting for her mother from dawn to dusk.

“How will mommy find me if I’m not there,” she often argued with Albert. One morning, as they left for the park, it started raining.

“Sweetie, I’ll take you to the park tomorrow. You’ll catch a cold,” Albert told Meg, but she was stubborn.

“No, we’ll go and wait there. Mommy will come,” she said.

Albert could not convince her. They took a bus to the park as they could not walk in the rain. The route was longer and passed several stations. And while crossing one such station, Meg started shouting.

“There she is! There is mommy!”

Albert was startled. “Where??” he rose from his seat. He thought she’d confused somebody else for her mother but still asked the driver to stop the bus.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

Albert quickly helped Meg out of the bus and hastily looked around at all the women he noticed. “Where is she??” he asked her.

Meg tugged his arm to a billboard on a sidewalk and pointed, shouting, “There…That’s my mommy!”

“Where? Which one??” Albert asked her.

“There…the second from the left…She’s my mommy…She’s my mommy!!”

The words on the billboard read: “Do You Know Me? Please Call On This Number” next to the name “Cadence Delacruz.” He gasped in shock after learning Meg’s mother’s name was Cadence, not Candy.

“What is written there?” Meg interrupted.

“It’s an advertisement for lost people,” he told her.

“What is that? What does it mean??”

“It means we are going to find your mother!!” Albert carried Meg cheerfully as he called the number on the billboard.

“City hospital,” the attendant answered. “Yes, she was admitted here.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Getty Images

For illustration purposes only | Source: Getty Images

When they got to the hospital, they were told Meg’s mother had already left. “Mommy has gone? Where did she go?” Meg started to cry.

“Sweetie, hold on…One second,” Albert comforted her.

“How did she come here? What happened to her?” he asked the nurse.

“She was brought here with a severe head injury over a month ago. She’d suffered from a traumatic brain injury that caused amnesia,” the nurse said.

“Where is she? We want to see her,” Albert asked her.

“She needed expensive treatment. She was in a coma for a few weeks and could not recall anybody when she woke up. Nobody came to take her. We even advertised her name and picture, but nobody turned up. She was discharged last week and sent to a shelter for the homeless.”

Albert was afraid Meg would lose her mother again. He then rushed to the shelter with the girl.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

Meg clutched Albert’s little finger as she looked around for her mother. Then she ran as fast as her little legs could carry her toward a bed in a corner.

“MOMMY!!” she cried and ran to her mother. “Mommy, where did you leave me and go?”

Cadence had a photo of them together and remembered Meg was her daughter as soon as she saw her and heard her call her mommy.

“I don’t know, sweetie,” she burst into tears.

Albert was speechless and moved at seeing Meg laughing and crying with her mother. “You need to come with me,” he interrupted.

“Where? And who are you?” Cadence asked.

“I’m Albert. I’m a janitor in the park. I found your daughter…” he paused. “I’ll explain everything later. You and Meg need to come home with me now.”

Albert took Cadence home and offered to stay in his house as long as she wanted. He spent all his savings on her treatment. It took several months before Cadence could recall some crucial moments of her life. Being around her daughter helped her to a great extent. Gradually, Cadence remembered everything, and Albert was curious to know how she had hurt herself.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“My husband had mortgaged our house,” she recalled. “I was not able to pay the loan after he died in an accident. Our house was taken, and then I rented a small room with my daughter. I lost my job, and my landlord kicked us out for not paying rent.”

After she was stranded on the street, Cadence could not find a job almost immediately. She did not want her daughter to live in the shelter for the homeless, so they temporarily camped in the tarp tent under the bridge.

Albert felt sorry for Cadence and sighed with relief things ended well for her and Meg. “But how did you get hurt?” he asked her.

Cadence recalled that fateful day and broke down.

“I was going for a job interview. I left my daughter in the park because I thought leaving her alone in the tent would be unsafe. I told her to wait there until I came,” Cadence revealed.

“I remember I slipped and fell in the underpass. My head hit the edge of the staircase, and I blacked out. When I woke up, I was in the hospital. I could not remember anything.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pixabay

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pixabay

“I’m glad you are safe, my dear. And I’m really happy Meg found you. She missed you so much,” Albert teared up.

Cadence and her daughter lived with Albert until she found a job. A few months later, she dated Frank, a widower with two children, and married him.

Cadence and Meg moved into their new house and were always thankful to Albert for his help. He was happy for them, although he knew he would miss Meg terribly.

Time passed, but Meg and her mother never forgot Albert. They became a part of his family and constantly visited him on the weekends, and every summer, they even vacationed together by the sea.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

What can we learn from this story?

  • Nothing is impossible, so keep going until you accomplish what you want. Despite having little to no leads in tracking down Meg’s mother, Albert never gave up. Ultimately, he reunited the lost little girl with her mother.
  • Only light can drive out darkness; Only love can drive out sorrow. Albert was distraught after losing his family in an accident. His life was a dark hollow until he met little Meg in the park.

Tell us what you think, and share this story with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.

My Stepmom Gifted Me a Funerary Urn for My 17th Birthday

As Lila was ready to celebrate her 17th birthday, she received an unexpected and creepy gift from her stepmother: a pink funerary urn. Like the type you keep ashes in? Yes, that’s the one. But that’s not all! Lila learns that her college fund was given to Monica to open her salon. What will Lila do?

Let me tell you, I’ve been sitting on this one for a few days, just trying to make sense of what went down.

I always thought my stepmom, Monica, was the worst, though not Disney villain evil. She was the kind of person who talks over you, forgets your birthday, and calls you “kiddo” when you’re practically an adult.

A smiling teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

A smiling teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

But, what she pulled on my 17th birthday? It shattered whatever shaky truce we had.

At least, that’s what I thought. Turns out, things weren’t exactly what they seemed.

Here’s how it all went down.

My mom, Sarah, died when I was ten, and after that, it was just Dad and me. We were a solid team. The type of team that has pizza for dinner half the week, late-night movies, and this unspoken agreement that we’d always have each other’s backs.

Two boxes of pizza on a coffee table | Source: Midjourney

Two boxes of pizza on a coffee table | Source: Midjourney

Then came Monica, about three years ago.

At first, she wasn’t horrible; she was just… there. Like a stray cat that never leaves, so you have no choice but to adopt it. Monica moved into our house, took over the bathroom with her fifty bottles of face serums and creams, and slowly pushed her way into my dad’s world.

Monica had big dreams of opening a hair salon, which was fine. I wasn’t against people having dreams. I had my own dreams waiting for me, but she treated me like I was just this annoying piece of furniture that came with the house.

A woman's vanity | Source: Midjourney

A woman’s vanity | Source: Midjourney

Honestly, I was counting down the days until I could escape to college.

Dad had promised me since middle school that there was a college fund waiting for me.

“Don’t worry, sweet girl,” he told me. “Your mom and I put together the fund when you were five. There’s more than enough, and every year on your birthday and Christmas, I add more.”

A smiling little girl | Source: Midjourney

A smiling little girl | Source: Midjourney

“Thank you, Dad,” I said. “I just want to study and make something of myself, like Mom said.”

“You only have to worry about your grades, Lila,” he said. “I’ll handle the rest.”

Naturally, I worked my butt off in school, knowing that in a few years, I’d be out of here.

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

College was my golden ticket, and no one — not even Monica — would stand in my way.

At least, that’s what I thought.

On the morning of my 17th birthday, I came downstairs expecting the usual lukewarm effort. By lukewarm, I mean a sad card, some pancakes, and Monica forgetting my favorite syrup. Dad was at work, so it was just Mon and I.

A plate of pancakes and a card on a table | Source: Midjourney

A plate of pancakes and a card on a table | Source: Midjourney

She handed me a gift bag, which was already weird because Monica wasn’t exactly the thoughtful or sentimental type.

“Happy Birthday, kiddo,” she said, flashing one of her tight-lipped smiles.

I wasn’t expecting much, but I sure as hell wasn’t expecting this.

I reached inside the bag and pulled out… an urn.

A shocked teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

A shocked teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

A funerary urn.

You know, the kind that people store ashes in. Cold, heavy, and, well, pink. It was pink.

I just stared at it, my brain short-circuiting.

“What the hell is this?” I asked, holding the urn like it was cursed.

A pink funerary urn | Source: Midjourney

A pink funerary urn | Source: Midjourney

Monica leaned against the kitchen counter, smug as ever.

“It’s symbolic,” she said as if that explained anything.

“Symbolic of what?”

Monica’s grin widened.

A smiling woman in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

“It’s time to bury your dreams of college, kiddo. Your dad and I talked about this, and we decided to put the college fund to better use.”

“Better use?” I asked, a cold shiver running through me.

“Yep. We’re investing it in my hair salon. College is a gamble, Lila. A business? That’s something real, sweetie.”

A hair salon being renovated | Source: Midjourney

A hair salon being renovated | Source: Midjourney

She sipped her coffee like she’d just said the most reasonable thing in the world.

I was frozen in place, trying to make sense of what I’d just heard. Had they really taken my future, everything I’d worked for, and sunk it into Monica’s salon dream?

“How could you do this?” I whispered.

Monica just smiled, a little too pleased with herself.

A shocked teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

A shocked teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

“Life’s full of disappointments, kiddo. Better get used to it now,” she said.

Wow.

That was it. I was done. I ran upstairs, slamming the door behind me so hard that the walls shook.

I cried so hard it hurt. What else could I do? Everything I had been holding onto was gone, and the only person I thought I could count on, Dad, had let this happen.

An upset teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

An upset teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

My mom wanted me to get out and make something of myself. And now? It was all over.

The next few days were a blur. I didn’t speak to Monica or my dad unless I absolutely had to. Every time I looked at that stupid urn sitting on my desk, my stomach twisted.

I couldn’t even bring myself to throw it out. It felt like some kind of morbid evidence. Like proof of the betrayal I didn’t see coming.

A pink funerary urn on a desk | Source: Midjourney

A pink funerary urn on a desk | Source: Midjourney

At school, my friends tried to cheer me up.

“Maybe she thought it was funny, Lila,” my friend Kira said. “Like, who really knows what Monica is thinking?”

“And anyway, there’s nothing stopping you from throwing it out! Just do it! Don’t overthink it,” Mel said.

Three teenage girls | Source: Midjourney

Three teenage girls | Source: Midjourney

But still, I couldn’t focus on anything other than the fact that Monica was prancing around, acting like she was the queen of the house, while I sat there with no future.

Then, a few days later, something strange happened.

When I got home from school, there was a note on my desk. Not in an envelope, just folded, with my name written in Monica’s messy handwriting.

A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

Meet me at the salon at 6 P.M. tonight. No questions. Just trust me. -M.

I almost laughed out loud. Trust her? Yeah, right.

But something about the note gnawed at me. Maybe it was the fact that I wanted to confront her one last time, tell her exactly what I thought of her.

Against my better judgment, I decided to go.

A note on a table | Source: Midjourney

A note on a table | Source: Midjourney

When I got to the salon, the lights were off, and the front door was unlocked.

I hesitated for a second, wondering if this was some elaborate prank. But curiosity got the best of me.

I stepped inside, and there they were. Monica and my dad, standing side by side, both grinning widely.

“Surprise!” Monica shouted, throwing her arms up like this was the happiest moment of her life.

The entrance to a salon | Source: Midjourney

The entrance to a salon | Source: Midjourney

I just stared at them, completely lost.

“What is this?”

Monica stepped aside, and that’s when I saw it — a shiny, brand-new sign mounted on the wall.

Dream Cuts: A Scholarship Fund in Honor of Sarah

I blinked, feeling like the room was tilting on its axis.

A hair salon | Source: Midjourney

A hair salon | Source: Midjourney

“What… what is this?”

Monica smiled, but it wasn’t her usual smug grin. This one was softer, almost real.

“We didn’t use your college fund, kiddo. It’s all still there. The salon? It’s not just for me. It’s for you, too. For other kids like you, too.”

I couldn’t breathe.

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

“But then, why would you make me think otherwise?” I asked.

Monica winced, putting her hand on her head.

“Yeah, so, the urn thing… That was not my best idea. I thought it’d be motivational, like, bury the past and embrace the future. You know? But it turns out that it was just creepy.”

A woman with her hand on her head | Source: Midjourney

A woman with her hand on her head | Source: Midjourney

I stared at her, speechless.

My dad stepped forward, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.

“We’ve been planning this for months, Lila,” he said. “Your mom always wanted to help kids get to college. This salon is going to fund scholarships. For you and for others in her name.”

“The salon has been my dream, Lila,” Monica said. “But it was never going to come at your expense. This way, a great portion of all our profits in the future will go to the fund.”

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

I didn’t know what to say.

Or what to think.

Just that I felt a warm haze take over me.

Monica laughed softly.

“I’m not a monster, darling,” she said. “I just didn’t want you to think that I was trying to take over your mom’s role.”

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

For the first time in a long time, I smiled.

It wasn’t perfect, but things with Monica probably never would be. But, at that moment, standing in the middle of a salon named for my mom’s dream, I realized that she wasn’t trying to ruin my life.

She was trying to build something bigger than any of us.

A smiling teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

A smiling teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

And somehow, against all odds, it felt like a new beginning.

And yeah, I kept the urn. But I planted white peace lilies in it, thinking it would be symbolic after all. And who knows, maybe I’ll take the urn to college.

What would you have done?

Peace lilies planted into a pink funerary urn | Source: Midjourney

Peace lilies planted into a pink funerary urn | Source: Midjourney

If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |

I Transferred $24K to My Daughter for Her College Tuition, Only to Discover She Never Enrolled — What She Spent It On Made Me Pale

Caroline had been saving for her daughter’s college fund since Angela was born. But after a classmate of Angela’s reveals that Angela is not actually enrolled in college, Caroline must uncover what her daughter is doing and what she used the money for.

Children are always going to break your heart. This was something that I learned the hard way after trusting my daughter, Angela, completely.

A close-up of a smiling girl | Source: Midjourney

A close-up of a smiling girl | Source: Midjourney

Since Angela was born, I have been saving for college. I needed to know that irrespective of what life threw my way, I would be able to educate my child.

“I think you can wait until she’s a little older,” my husband, Holden, said. “We can do it together.”

“You can add to her college fund later,” I said, looking at my baby girl. “But I’m going to start from next month. I wasn’t able to study, Holden. And it was because we didn’t have the opportunity to do so. Angela is going to get that opportunity.”

A smiling baby girl | Source: Midjourney

A smiling baby girl | Source: Midjourney

“Okay, Caroline,” my husband said. “You start it now, and I’ll add to it in a year. The house will be paid off, and I’ll be able to put that money into the fund.”

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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