But every trip was a reminder of how connected we were and how much we valued this time together. It was a break from our everyday lives, a chance to let loose and just be, at least for some time.
“Mom, do you remember that time at the beach house when Kayla fell off the dock?” Evelyn would laugh, nudging her sister.
“Don’t remind me!” Kayla groaned, but she couldn’t help smiling. “I still can’t believe you all left me in the water like that.”
“We didn’t leave you, sweetheart. We were laughing too hard to pull you out,” I would tease, shaking my head.
These moments were precious, and I held onto them fiercely. But things started to change when Liam, my only son, got married to Beth.
Beth was sweet when they first met. Quiet, reserved, but kind-hearted. I was genuinely happy for them, and when they got married, I welcomed her into our family with open arms. Naturally, I invited her to join us on our girls’ trips. I wanted her to feel included, to be a part of our little tradition. It felt right at the time.
At first, Beth fit in well enough. She was always polite, maybe a little shy, but I thought she’d warm up eventually. She wasn’t as chatty as my girls, but she seemed to enjoy the trips. We all tried to make her feel comfortable.
“So, Beth,” Kayla asked one afternoon as we sat in a café on one of our trips. “What was it like growing up in Maine? I’ve always wanted to visit.”
Beth smiled softly, twirling the straw in her iced coffee. “It was nice. Quiet. Not much to do in my town, but the summers were beautiful.”
The conversation felt a bit forced, but we all chalked it up to Beth needing time to adjust. She’d become part of our family, and I wanted her to feel like she belonged.
But after Beth gave birth to her son, Lucas, things changed. She gained a lot of weight during pregnancy, which isn’t unusual. However, eight years later, she still hadn’t lost the baby weight.
I noticed how much it was affecting her, not just physically but in the way she moved and interacted with us. It was becoming harder to include her in our trips.
One day, we were out shopping. It was supposed to be a fun, lighthearted afternoon, just like old times. We’d hit the mall, grabbed lunch, and made our way through the stores, chatting and laughing. But Beth kept falling behind.
I glanced back and saw her sitting on a bench near the entrance of a department store. She looked exhausted, wiping the sweat from her brow. “You guys go ahead,” she said, breathing heavily. “I’ll catch up.”
Evelyn raised an eyebrow at me, trying to hide her frustration. “Mom, do we need to wait again?”
I sighed. “Let’s just give her a few minutes.”
But those few minutes turned into long stretches of waiting. We’d walk ahead, browse through the racks, and eventually circle back to find Beth still sitting there. It was becoming a pattern — and not just on that day. Every trip we went on, we had to slow down, stop more often, and accommodate her.
By the time we left the mall that day, the mood had shifted. What was supposed to be a carefree afternoon felt strained, and my girls were clearly frustrated.
“Mom, I hate to say it, but these trips aren’t the same anymore,” Kayla said as we loaded the shopping bags into the car.
“I know,” I replied, running a hand through my hair. “I just… I don’t want to leave her out.”
Evelyn nodded, her face softening. “We get it. But we can’t keep doing this. It’s not fair to us either.”
I couldn’t argue with that. I knew they were right. The truth was, Beth’s presence had begun to change the dynamic of our trips, and not for the better.
We were holding back, compromising our enjoyment to accommodate her. And it wasn’t just about walking slower or sitting more. It felt like the whole energy of our outings was different.
The tipping point came when we started planning our annual trip to the pumpkin patch and apple orchard. It’s a tradition we’ve had for years — my favorite time of the year.
The fall colors, the smell of apples in the air, the laughter as we wandered through the orchard picking fruit. It was something we all looked forward to.
As we sat around the kitchen table, Evelyn looked up from her phone. “So, are we inviting Beth this year?”
I hesitated. We all knew what that would mean. Long breaks, slow walks, and probably missing out on some of the things we enjoyed most about the trip.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” I finally said, my voice low. “It’s a lot of walking, and… well, you know.”
Kayla sighed with relief. “I’m glad you said it, Mom. It’s been hard with her.”
“We haven’t had a proper girls’ day in so long,” Lauren added, looking at her sisters. “I miss the way things used to be.”
The truth was staring me in the face, and there was no avoiding it.
That’s when I made the decision not to invite Beth. It wasn’t easy, but I told myself it was for the best. My daughters deserved a day to relax and enjoy themselves without constantly having to adjust to Beth’s limitations.
The day of the trip came, and it was perfect. The weather was crisp, the leaves were golden and red, and we spent the entire day walking through the orchard, picking apples, and laughing.
We didn’t have to stop or slow down. It was like the old days, just me and my girls. I even posted a few pictures on Facebook, not thinking much of it.
But later that night, my phone rang. It was Beth.
I took a deep breath before answering. “Hi, Beth.”
“Lilian, I saw the pictures on Facebook,” she said, her voice tense. “Why wasn’t I invited?”
I felt my stomach drop. I knew this conversation was coming, but I wasn’t prepared. “Oh, it was just a small trip,” I stammered. “Nothing big.”
“But I’m family,” Beth said, her voice rising. “Why didn’t you invite me?”
There it was. The question I had been dreading. I could’ve lied, made up some excuse, but what would be the point? The truth was staring me in the face, and there was no avoiding it.
“Beth,” I said softly, trying to choose my words carefully. “It’s not that we don’t want you there. It’s just… well, the walking. You’ve needed a lot of breaks, and it’s made it hard for us to enjoy the trips the way we used to.”
Silence hung in the air for what felt like an eternity.
“So, you didn’t invite me because of my weight?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
I swallowed hard. “Yes,” I admitted, guilt washing over me. “It’s been difficult. We’ve had to change the way we do things, and… I didn’t want to say anything, but it’s affected our trips.”
Beth was quiet for a moment, and I could feel the hurt radiating through the phone. “I thought I was part of this family,” she finally said, her voice trembling. “I thought you cared about me.”
“I do care about you, Beth—”
“No, you don’t,” she interrupted. “If you did, you wouldn’t have excluded me like this. You wouldn’t make me feel like an outsider.”
And with that, she hung up. I sat there, staring at the phone, my heart heavy with regret.
Later that night, Liam texted me. “Mom, Beth’s really hurt. You need to apologize.”
I read the text over and over, feeling torn. Should I apologize? Was I wrong to protect this time with my daughters? I wasn’t sure anymore.
The next morning, I talked to the girls. “Do you think I was too harsh?” I asked as we sat around the kitchen table.
“No, Mom,” Evelyn said, shaking her head. “We love Beth, but it’s not fair to us either. Our trips haven’t been the same.”
Kayla nodded. “We just want to enjoy ourselves like we used to. You did the right thing.”
Their reassurance helped, but I couldn’t shake the guilt. I didn’t want to hurt Beth, but I couldn’t ignore the strain her presence had put on our trips.
I’d reached my limit. Maybe I could’ve handled it better, maybe I should’ve been kinder, but the truth was out now.
I still don’t know if I made the right decision. All I wanted was to protect the bond I had with my daughters. But now I wonder if that decision has cost me something far greater.
Do you think I handled it correctly? What would you have done in my place?
Janitor Purchases Old Doll at Flea Market, Gives it to Child, and Hears Mysterious Cracking Noise
A few days earlier…
“Mommy,” said Eve sadly. “Can you get me a doll?”
“Honey,” Pauline gently replied. “You know we’re on a tight budget this month. Mommy will buy you one next month. That’s a promise.”
“But mommy…” Eve’s voice began to crack. “My birthday is in two days. Did you forget about it?”
“Oh, no, no, sweetheart! Not at all!” Pauline said, but she had actually forgotten and felt terrible about it.
“Are you still not going to get me a doll? I don’t have any friends, mommy. Nobody wants to be friends with me because we are poor. That doll can be my best friend…”
“Oh honey,” Pauline hugged Eve. “I will get you the doll. Promise. Don’t be sad, ok?”
Pauline knew the kids at Eve’s school didn’t treat her well because she wasn’t as rich as them, but there wasn’t much she could do about it. Children can be cruel at times.
Present day…
Pauline was delighted after buying the doll. She couldn’t wait to give it to Eve and see her beautiful smile. The doll was one of those vintage kinds, holding a tiny baby in her arms.
“Oh, Eve will be so happy!” Pauline thought on her way back home.
And Eve was. The little girl’s joy knew no bounds when Pauline showed her the doll on her birthday.
Sometimes, the cause of someone’s smile is the source of another person’s grief.
“Ta-da! Mommy got the doll for Evie!” Pauline exclaimed, holding the doll in her hands. “Can mommy have a kiss for that?”
“It’s so pretty! Thank you, mommy!” Eve chirped as she kissed Pauline on the cheek.
As Pauline handed over the doll to Eve, she suddenly heard a strange crackling sound.
“What was that?” Pauline wondered.
She shook the doll, holding it close to her ears, and heard the crackling again.
“Mommy! Give it here! I wanna hold my doll! Please! Please!” Eve said, excited to play with it.
“One second, honey. I think there’s something in here…”
It was then that Pauline examined the doll and found a secret pocket sewn into the doll’s outfit. She undid the loose threads around it, and a note fell from it.
Eve quickly picked it up and said, “Mommy, it says, ‘Happy Birthday, Mommy.’ It’s not your birthday! It’s my birthday! This is so silly!”
When Pauline read the note, she noticed the message seemed like it was scribbled by a child. At that point, the thought of the woman selling the doll flashed through Pauline’s mind.
The next day, she returned to the flea market with the doll, and luckily, the woman’s stall was still there.
“Oh, I’m glad I found you here!” Pauline said. “I bought this doll yesterday, and I found a note inside…”
When the woman, Miriam, saw the note, her eyes welled up. “My daughter got this doll for me,” she said quietly. “She passed away two days before my birthday…My husband and I, oh, I’m sorry…” The woman covered her face as her tears started to flow.
“I’m really sorry for your loss,” Pauline said apologetically. “I had no idea. I know I can’t take away your pain, but if it helps, I can give you a hug.”
“Oh, thank you…” Miriam said. Pauline gave her a warm hug, after which Miriam revealed her sad story, which brought tears to Pauline’s eyes.
“My little daughter was diagnosed with cancer,” Miriam said. “We needed money for her chemotherapy. My husband and I work at a factory. We didn’t have enough money to cover her hospital bills, so we set up a stall here to sell our old furniture and things we didn’t need.”
“But we couldn’t save our daughter…She—she left us too soon. We’re selling her toys because every time I look at them, it just makes me sad.”
“One night, when I held my baby girl’s hand, she asked me to be happy. She had said, ‘Mumma, when I’m gone, please remember me with a smile.’ So I decided to sell the toys. She had bought that doll, saying it would remind me of her. I’m sorry I feel like I’m oversharing with you, but my heart feels really relieved today. Thank you for listening to me.”
As Miriam finished, she broke down into tears again. Pauline consoled her, and the two women talked about their lives for a while. Pauline told her how she’d been raising Eve by herself and invited her over to spend time with them.
“Eve will love to meet you,” she said. “And thank you so much for the doll. It made my daughter’s day. I’m sure your daughter is looking at you and smiling. Thank you again,” she added before she left.
A few days later, Miriam visited Eve and Pauline at the trailer where they lived.
“This is in appreciation of your kind heart and patience in listening to me that day. I hope this helps you and Eve,” Miriam said, handing Pauline an envelope.
When Pauline opened it, she found a couple of dollar bills inside. $3000 in total. “Oh, Miriam, we can’t take this. This is a lot. No, no, this doesn’t feel right…”
“You can take it, Pauline,” Miriam insisted. “A mother’s heart knows how much it hurts when you can’t do enough for your child. We made this by selling the toys. Please keep it. If not for my sake, please keep it for Eve’s sake.”
Pauline cried. “Oh, Miriam, thank you. This will help us a lot. Thanks.”
From then on, Miriam and Pauline became friends, and Miriam loved and spoiled Eve too much. But the best part was that Pauline and Eve’s company helped Miriam heal and move on from her loss.
What can we learn from this story?
Help someone in need, and you’ll never regret it. Pauline and Miriam helped each other in whatever way they could. That helped Miriam overcome her grief, and Pauline and Eve found someone who cherished their company.
Sometimes, the cause of someone’s smile is the source of another person’s grief. Sadly, the doll which made Eve happy on her birthday was a reminder of Miriam’s sad past.
Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.
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