I worked as a nanny. My little Thea was my sunshine, making my days fly by. One afternoon, she found a man’s wallet full of cash under her bed. I took it to Thea’s father, but he said it wasn’t his. “It’s for Mommy’s friend!” That phrase nearly cost me my job later on.
I had been working in Max’s household for a few weeks, and the routine had become second nature. I would wake up early each morning to prepare breakfast for 6-year-old Thea.
The kitchen was always filled with the warm aroma of pancakes and freshly squeezed orange juice. We often cooked together.
“Good morning, sunshine!”
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I greeted Thea one morning as the little girl shuffled into the kitchen.
Her eyes were still heavy with sleep.
“Good morning, Anna.”
She climbed onto a stool at the kitchen island. I set a plate of pancakes in front of her.
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“Do you want blueberries or strawberries today?”
“Blueberries, please.”
As I watched Thea eat, I thought about my huge love for this little girl.
“You’re my little blueberry, you know that?”
Thea giggled. “I know.”
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After breakfast, I helped Thea get ready for school.
“Hold still, Thea, I need to get this braid just right.”
“Okay, but can you make it like Elsa’s braid today?”
“Of course, Elsa it is,” I replied, carefully braiding Thea’s curly blonde hair. I tied the end of the braid with a ribbon.
“You look beautiful, Thea.”
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“Thank you, Anna. You always make my hair so pretty,” Thea replied, giving me a big hug.
I had always wanted children of my own but had discovered a few years ago that I couldn’t have any. I loved the girl as if she were my daughter, pouring all my maternal affection into our relationship.
After dropping Thea off at school, I returned home to take care of the household chores.
Veronica, Max’s wife, rarely acknowledged my efforts. She was always busy with her daily pleasures.
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Not even a thank you. But it’s okay. I’m here for Thea.
In the evening, I picked Thea up from school, and we would head back home for dinner. I always made sure Thea had her favorite meals.
“Do you want spaghetti or chicken tonight?”
“Spaghetti!”
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Max, who was constantly busy with work, would join us whenever he could.
“You’re doing a wonderful job, Anna. Thea seems so happy,” he said that evening.
Despite his demanding schedule, he always tried to spend his free moments with his daughter. Thea was his only child from his first marriage, and Veronica didn’t want to have any children of her own.
So, Max poured all his affection and care into Thea and was deeply grateful to me for my dedication and genuine love for his little girl.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“Thank you, Max. Thea is a special girl. She deserves all the love and attention,” I replied, glancing over at Thea, who was engrossed in a puzzle on the floor.
However, despite the happy moments, I couldn’t ignore the tension that Veronica brought into the household. She spent most of her time away and showed little interest in Thea.
That night, as I tucked Thea into bed.
“Why doesn’t Mommy love me, Anna?”
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My heart broke at the question.
“Oh, sweetheart, you are so loved. I love you very much, and so does your daddy. Sometimes, people don’t show their love in the same way, but that doesn’t mean you’re not special.”
Thea hugged me tightly. “I love you too, Anna.”
I knew my love and support could make a real difference, and I was determined to give Thea the best childhood possible.
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***
One sunny afternoon, Thea and I were playing in the nursery. The room was filled with toys, colorful drawings on the walls, and the soft hum of children’s music playing in the background.
Thea was busy pretending her dolls were having a tea party.
“Anna, can you pour the tea for Daisy?”
“Of course, Daisy,” I replied, carefully pretending to pour invisible tea into a tiny cup.
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As we played, Thea crawled under the bed to retrieve a toy she had dropped.
“Anna, look what I found!”
She emerged holding a man’s wallet.
“Hmm, let’s see what’s inside.”
The wallet was filled with cash! No cards no ID. Just cash.
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This must belong to Max. We should return it to him.
I held Thea’s hand, and we walked downstairs to Max’s home office. He was at his desk, surrounded by papers and his laptop.
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“Max, we found this wallet in Thea’s nursery,” I said, holding it out to him.
“This isn’t mine.”
Just then, Thea, who had been looking around curiously, piped up, “Oh, that’s a toy! That’s for Mommy’s Friend!”
Max and I exchanged a surprised glance.
Before we could say anything, Veronica walked in. She noticed the wallet in Max’s hand and immediately narrowed her eyes.
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“What’s going on here?”
“We found this wallet in Thea’s nursery. Thea said it belongs to one of your friends.”
Veronica’s eyes flashed.
“That’s ridiculous! Anna, you must have taken this from one of the workers!”
“I would never…” I began, but Max interrupted.
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“Veronica, that’s enough. Anna is always with Thea. She wouldn’t do something like that.”
Veronica’s face twisted with anger.
Max continued, “I trust Anna. This is a misunderstanding.”
Veronica huffed, “How can you be so sure? You barely know her!”
Max stood his ground.
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“I know enough to trust her. And I trust Thea’s word too. If she says it’s a toy, then it’s a toy.”
Veronica glared at me, but I held my head high. I had nothing to hide.
Veronica shot me one last icy look before storming out of the room.
As she passed by me, she leaned in and whispered, “You’re finished.”
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Max turned to me. “I’m sorry about that, Anna. Veronica can be… difficult.”
“It’s alright, Max. I understand.”
As Thea and I left the office, I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease. Veronica’s reaction was harsh and unfounded.
Why is she so eager to accuse me?
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***
The following afternoon, Veronica called me into the living room. She was sitting elegantly on the sofa, watching me carefully.
“Anna, I was thinking of taking Thea out for a walk this afternoon. Why don’t you stay here and prepare dinner?”
I hesitated for a moment, but couldn’t find a reason to object.
“Sure, Veronica,” I replied, trying to sound cheerful.
“Great. Thea loves the playground, so we’ll be there if you need us.”
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I headed to the kitchen, watching from the window as Veronica and Thea walked down the path to the playground. I busied myself with chopping vegetables.
“It’s just a walk,” I told myself. “Everything will be fine.”
Half an hour later, I heard the front door open and close.
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Max’s voice echoed through the house, “I’m home!”
I wiped my hands on a towel and walked out to greet him.
“Hi, Max. How was your day?”
“Busy as always,” he replied, glancing around. “Where’s Thea?”
“Veronica took her to the playground. They should be back soon.”
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“The playground? By themselves?”
Without waiting for a response, he grabbed his coat and headed out the door.
I stood there, a sinking feeling in my stomach.
“Please let everything be alright,” I whispered.
It felt like an eternity before Max returned, holding a very upset Thea by the hand. Her clothes were dirty, and she had a scrape on her knee.
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“Max, what happened?” I asked, rushing over.
Max’s face was a storm of anger.
“I found Thea playing alone at the playground. Veronica was nowhere in sight!”
“I didn’t know, Max. I swear I thought Veronica was with her the whole time.”
Veronica was listening to our conversation at the doorway.
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“Max, I just went to the store for a minute. I was sure Thea’s playing with Anna.”
Max turned to me, his anger misdirected.
“Anna, you should have been with her. This is unacceptable.”
“But, Max…” I started, but he cut me off.
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“No excuses, Anna. Pack your things. You’re fired.”
Tears filled my eyes as I nodded, too shocked to argue. I headed upstairs to pack.
This can’t be happening. How did everything go so wrong?
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***
As I walked down the stairs with my suitcase, Veronica stood in the hallway, a smug look on her face.
She had orchestrated this whole thing, and I had fallen right into her trap. I kept walking, trying to ignore the satisfaction in her eyes.
I saw Thea running towards me, tears streaming down her face. “Anna, please don’t go! Please!”
I knelt to her level, my own eyes filling with tears.
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“I don’t want to leave either, Thea, but I have to.”
Thea turned to her father, who was standing in the doorway.
“Daddy, please let Anna stay! Veronica never plays with me. She’s always with her friend when you’re not here. I want to stay with Anna!”
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Max frowned. “What do you mean, sweetheart?”
Thea wiped her eyes.
“Veronica has a friend who comes over a lot. They play in her room while I watch cartoons. She even has pictures of him on her phone.”
Max’s face darkened. “Is this true, Thea?”
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“Yes, Daddy. Yesterday at the playground, Veronica left me alone while she went to talk to him.”
Max looked stunned. He turned to Veronica, who had just walked in. “Veronica, is this true?”
Veronica’s face twisted with anger. “This is ridiculous! She’s just a child. What does she know?”
“Thea wouldn’t lie about this. Why didn’t you tell me about this ‘friend’?”
Veronica lost her temper.
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“Because you’re never around, Max! You’re always at work. I have no life, no one to talk to. And you spend all your free time with Thea, ignoring me completely!”
“That doesn’t justify your actions. You put Thea in danger and lied to me.”
Veronica glared at me. “This is all your fault, Anna. You turned them against me.”
I was trying to stay calm. “Veronica, all I’ve ever wanted is to take care of Thea. She needs love and attention.”
Max raised his hand.
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“I’ve heard enough. Your actions are unjustifiable, Veronica. You put Thea in danger, and I can’t forgive that. You should leave.”
Veronica looked shocked.
“You’re kicking me out? For her?”
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She stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. I held Thea close as she sobbed into my shoulder. Max approached us, his eyes softening.
“Anna, I’m so sorry. I didn’t see what was happening. Please, stay and help us through this.”
“Of course, Max. I’ll always be here for Thea.”
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***
In the days that followed, I stayed on as Thea’s nanny. Max began to spend more time with his daughter.
We spent our days playing games, having picnics in the garden, and enjoying family dinners. It felt like we were becoming a real family.
Sometimes, as I watched Max and Thea together, I couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like if we truly were one. Those thoughts crept into my mind more often than I’d like to admit.
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One evening, as I was tucking Thea into bed, Max knocked on the doorframe.
“Anna, can I talk to you for a moment?”
“Of course, Max,” I said, giving Thea a final kiss on the forehead before stepping out into the hallway.
Max looked a bit nervous, which was unusual for him.
“I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me tomorrow. Just the two of us.”
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“Are you asking me out on a date?”
“Yes, I am. We’ve been through a lot, and I’d like to spend some time with you outside of the house.”
I agreed, feeling a flutter of excitement. As I headed to my room to prepare for the next day, I couldn’t help but smile.
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: Prue arrived at my Mom’s wedding and found a note under her plate. “Help me!” The handwriting was the same as on the invitation. It wasn’t Mom’s, so… it must be Colin’s! Prue followed him and saw something that soon turned the family party into a big scandal. Read the full story here.
I Nearly Froze to Death at 8 Years Old Until a Homeless Man Saved Me—Today, I Accidentally Met Him Again
I never thought I’d see him again. Not after all these years. Not after he saved my life that night in the snowstorm and vanished without a trace. But there he was, sitting in the subway station with his hands outstretched for change. The man who once saved me was now the one who needed saving.
For a moment, I just stood there, staring.
It reminded me of that very day. Of the biting cold, of my tiny, frozen fingers, and of the warmth of his rough hands guiding me to safety.
A little girl standing in forest | Source: Midjourney
I had spent years wondering who he was, where he had gone, and if he was even still alive.
And now, fate had placed him right in front of me again. But could I truly help him the way he once helped me?
***
I don’t have many memories of my parents, but I do remember their faces.
I clearly remember the warmth in my mother’s smile and the strength in my father’s arms. I also remember the night it all changed.
The night I learned they weren’t coming back.
A girl standing by a window | Source: Midjourney
I was only five years old when they died in a car accident, and back then, I didn’t even fully understand what death meant. I waited by the window for days, convinced they would walk through the door at any moment. But they never did.
Soon, the foster system became my reality.
I bounced from shelters to group homes to temporary families, never truly belonging anywhere.
Some foster parents were kind, others were indifferent, and a few were downright cruel. But no matter where I ended up, one thing remained the same.
I was alone.
An upset girl | Source: Midjourney
Back then, school was my only escape.
I buried myself in my books, determined to build a future for myself. I worked harder than anyone else, pushing past the loneliness and the uncertainty. And it paid off.
I earned a grant for college, then clawed my way through medical school, eventually becoming a surgeon.
Now, at 38, I have the life I fought for. I spend long hours at the hospital, performing life-saving operations, and barely stopping to catch my breath.
It’s exhausting, but I love it.
Surgeons in an operation theatre | Source: Pexels
Some nights, when I walk through my sleek apartment, I think about how proud my parents would be. I wish they could see me now, standing in an operating room, making a difference.
But there’s one memory from my childhood that never fades.
I was eight years old when I got lost in the woods.
It was a terrible snowstorm, the kind that blinds you, the kind that makes every direction look the same. I had wandered too far from the shelter I was staying in.
And before I knew it, I was completely alone.
A girl standing in the woods during a snowstorm | Source: Midjourney
I remember screaming for help. My tiny hands were stiff with cold, and my coat was too thin to protect me. I was terrified.
And then… he appeared.
I saw a man wrapped in layers of tattered clothing. His beard was dusted with snow, and his blue eyes were filled with concern.
A man standing in the woods | Source: Midjourney
When he found me shivering and terrified, he immediately scooped me up in his arms.
I remember how he carried me through the storm, shielding me from the worst of the wind. How he used his last few dollars to buy me hot tea and a sandwich at a roadside café. How he called the cops and made sure I was safe before slipping away into the night, never waiting for a thank you.
That was 30 years ago.
I never saw him again.
Until today.
People at a train station | Source: Pexels
The subway was packed with the usual chaos.
People were rushing to work while the street musician did his thing in the corner. I was exhausted after a long shift, lost in thought, when my eyes landed on him.
At first, I wasn’t sure why he looked familiar. His face was hidden beneath a scruffy gray beard, and he was wearing tattered clothes. His shoulders were slumped forward as if life had worn him down.
As I walked toward him, my gaze landed on something very familiar.
A tattoo on his forearm.
An anchor tattoo | Source: Midjourney
It was a small, faded anchor that immediately reminded me of the day I got lost in the woods.
I looked at the tattoo then back at the man’s face, trying my best to remember if it was really him. The only way I could confirm it was by talking to him. And that’s what I did.
“Is it really you? Mark?”
He looked up at me, trying to study my face. I knew he wouldn’t recognize me because I was just a child the last time he saw me.
A man sitting at a subway station | Source: Midjourney
I swallowed hard, trying to keep my emotions in check. “You saved me. Thirty years ago. I was eight years old, lost in the snow. You carried me to safety.”
That’s when his eyes widened in recognition.
“The little girl…” he said. “In the storm?”
I nodded. “Yes. That was me.”
Mark let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”
A man smiling | Source: Midjourney
I sat down next to him on the cold subway bench.
“I never forgot what you did for me.” I hesitated before asking, “Have you been… living like this all these years?”
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he scratched his beard and looked away. “Life has a way of kicking you down. Some people get back up. Some don’t.”
At that point, my heart broke for him. I knew I couldn’t just walk away.
“Come with me,” I said. “Let me buy you a meal. Please.”
He hesitated, his pride keeping him from accepting, but I wouldn’t take no for an answer.
Eventually, he nodded.
A man talking to a woman | Source: Midjourney
We went to a small pizza place nearby, and the way he ate told me he hadn’t had a good meal in years. I blinked back tears as I watched him. No one should have to live like this, especially not someone who once gave everything to help a lost little girl.
After dinner, I took him to a clothing store and bought him warm clothes. He protested at first, but I insisted.
“This is the least I can do for you,” I told him.
He finally accepted, running a hand over the coat as if he had forgotten what warmth felt like.
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But I wasn’t done helping him yet.
I took him to a small motel on the outskirts of the city and rented a room for him.
“Just for a while,” I assured him when he hesitated. “You deserve a warm bed and a hot shower, Mark.”
He looked at me with something in his eyes that I couldn’t quite comprehend. I think it was gratitude. Or maybe disbelief.
“You don’t have to do all this, kid,” he said.
“I know,” I said softly. “But I want to.”
The next morning, I met Mark outside the motel.
A motel sign | Source: Pexels
His hair was still damp from the shower, and he looked like a different man in his new clothes.
“I want to help you get back on your feet,” I said. “We can renew your documents, get you a place to stay long-term. I can help.”
Mark smiled, but there was sadness in his eyes. “I appreciate that, kid. I really do. But I don’t have much time left.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
He exhaled slowly, looking out toward the street. “Doctors say my heart’s giving out. Not much they can do. I feel it, too. I won’t be around much longer.”
A man talking to a woman | Source: Midjourney
“No. There has to be something—”
He shook his head. “I’ve made peace with it.”
Then he gave me a small smile. “There’s just one thing I’d love to do before I go. I want to see the ocean one last time.”
“Alright,” I managed to say. “I’ll take you. We’ll go tomorrow, okay?”
The ocean was about 350 miles away, so I had to take a day off from the hospital. I asked Mark to come over to my place the next day so we could drive there together, and he did.
But just as we were about to leave, my phone rang.
A woman using her phone | Source: Pexels
It was the hospital.
“Sophia, we need you,” my colleague said urgently. “A young girl just came in. Severe internal bleeding. We don’t have another available surgeon.”
I looked at Mark as I ended the call.
“I—” My voice caught. “I have to go.”
Mark gave me a knowing nod. “Of course you do. Go save that girl. That’s what you were meant to do.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “But we’ll still go, I promise.”
He smiled. “I know, kid.”
A man smiling while talking to a woman | Source: Midjourney
I rushed to the hospital. The surgery was long and grueling, but it was successful. The girl survived. I should have felt relieved, but all I could think about was Mark.
As soon as I was done, I drove straight back to the motel. My hands trembled as I knocked on his door.
No answer.
I knocked again.
Still nothing.
A sinking feeling settled in my stomach as I asked the motel clerk to unlock the door.
When it opened, my heart shattered.
A doorknob | Source: Pexels
Mark was lying on the bed, his eyes closed, his face peaceful. He was gone.
I stood there, unable to move. I couldn’t believe he was gone.
I had promised to take him to the ocean. I had promised.
But I was too late.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered as tears streamed down my cheeks. “I’m so sorry for being late…”
***
I never got to take Mark to the ocean, but I ensured he was buried by the shore.
Waves on the shore at sunset time | Source: Pexels
He’s gone from my life forever, but one thing he has taught me is to be kind. His kindness saved my life 30 years ago, and now, I carry it forward.
In every patient I heal, every stranger I help, and every problem I try to solve, I carry Mark’s kindness with me, hoping to give others the same compassion he once showed me.
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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