For Nancy her son Henry was everything, she never imagined her life without him. It had been 23 years since the horrible accident that took Henry’s life. Every year on that day, she took his favorite pie to his grave to honor his memory. But this year, everything was about to change.
For 23 years, Nancy, now 61, never missed a single day on this date. She baked her late son’s favorite pie and took it to his grave every year since.
The pie, a simple yet delicious apple and cinnamon creation, had been Henry’s favorite since childhood.
The scent of apples and cinnamon brought back memories of when Henry was little, running into the kitchen, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the pie.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
It was his favorite dessert, and baking it had become a tradition they both cherished.
Since Henry’s tragic accident at 17, this ritual had been Nancy’s way of keeping his memory alive.
It gave her a sense of connection to him, like she was still doing something special for her boy. Losing him had been the hardest thing she had ever gone through. The pain of that day never left her.
Even though the years had passed, her grief remained, only softened by time and the small comfort this tradition brought her.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
On this particular day, just like every year before, Nancy carefully carried the freshly baked pie to the graveyard.
The weight of the dish felt heavier, as it always did when she walked toward Henry’s resting place. The grave was neat and covered in flowers, a sign of how much he was still loved.
The stone had become smoother over the years, as she had often run her fingers over it, lost in her memories.
Nancy knelt, placing the pie gently on the gravestone. Her heart ached as she began to speak, her voice quiet, as though Henry might somehow hear her.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Henry, I hope you’re at peace, my love. I miss you every day. I baked your favorite pie again. Remember how we used to bake it together? You’d always sneak a taste before it was done.”
She smiled, but her eyes were misty with tears. “I wish we could do that one more time.”
The familiar sorrow welled up inside her, but Nancy had learned over the years to push through the tears.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
She wiped her eyes quickly and managed a small smile. After a few more moments of silence, she kissed her fingers and touched the top of the gravestone as she said her quiet goodbye.
Then, with a heavy but comforted heart, she turned and walked away, knowing she’d be back next year, just like always.
The next day, as part of her routine, Nancy made her way back to Henry’s grave to clean up the remains of the pie.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Usually, by the time she returned, the pie was either untouched or spoiled by the weather, a quiet reminder of her son’s absence.
She had always found it a bittersweet comfort, knowing the pie stayed where she left it as if waiting for him.
But today, as she approached the grave, something felt different. Nancy’s heart skipped a beat when she saw that the plate was clean—completely empty. For a moment, she stood frozen in disbelief.
Then, she noticed something else. Resting on the plate was a small piece of paper, folded in half.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Nancy’s hands trembled as she picked up the note. Her breath caught in her throat as she unfolded it.
The handwriting was shaky, as though whoever had written it had struggled to form the letters. The simple words read: “Thank you.”
Her heart pounded with confusion and anger.
“Who would take Henry’s pie?” she muttered under her breath, clutching the note tightly. “This was for my son. No one had the right to touch it!”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Her private ritual, her way of honoring and remembering her son, had been invaded by a stranger.
She felt violated, as if someone had stolen a piece of her grief.
With her emotions swirling—part outrage, part confusion—Nancy left the cemetery, her mind set on finding the person who had taken her son’s pie. She had to know who had done this, and why.
Determined to catch the culprit, Nancy decided she would take matters into her own hands. She couldn’t let someone continue to disturb the way she honored Henry. So, she devised a plan.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
That night, she baked another of Henry’s favorite pies, the same apple and cinnamon recipe she had been making for over two decades.
The next morning, with renewed resolve, she placed the freshly baked pie on Henry’s grave, just like before, but this time she wasn’t leaving.
She found a large oak tree nearby and hid behind it, close enough to see the grave but far enough to not be noticed.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The warm aroma of the pie drifted through the air, filling the quiet cemetery.
Time passed slowly as Nancy watched and waited, her heart racing in anticipation.
An hour later, she spotted movement. A small figure cautiously approached the grave. Nancy squinted, leaning forward to get a better look.
It wasn’t the greedy thief she had imagined. No, this was something entirely different.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
A young boy, no older than 9, with ragged clothes and dirt smudged on his face, moved toward the pie with hesitant steps.
Nancy’s heart tightened as she watched him. The boy didn’t immediately take the pie.
Instead, he knelt by the grave and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small scrap of paper and a dull pencil. His hand trembled as he carefully scribbled something on the paper, his brow furrowed with concentration.
It was clear the boy struggled with writing, but he took his time, making sure each word was legible.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Nancy’s heart softened as she saw him write “Thank you” on the paper, just like before. He wasn’t a thief. He wasn’t someone disrespecting Henry’s memory. He was just a hungry child, grateful for the kindness of a pie left behind.
The anger that had once consumed Nancy melted away in an instant. She realized this boy wasn’t stealing; he was surviving. He was in need, and her son’s favorite pie had somehow brought him comfort.
As the boy began to pick up the pie, his small hands shaking, Nancy stepped out from her hiding spot.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The rustle of leaves under her feet made him freeze, wide-eyed. Startled, he dropped the pie, and it tumbled onto the grass. His face paled, and he backed away, looking terrified.
“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry!” the boy cried, his voice trembling with panic. “I was just so hungry, and the pie was so good. Please don’t be mad.”
Nancy’s heart softened instantly. The sight of him—thin, dirty, and scared—erased any trace of anger she had felt before.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
She knelt beside him, speaking gently, her voice as comforting as she could make it. “It’s alright, sweetheart. I’m not mad at you, Where are your parents?” she said, her tone soothing. The boy stayed silent and shook his head. “What’s your name?” Nancy asked another question understanding that the boy had nowhere to go.
“Jimmy,” he muttered, still avoiding her eyes, ashamed of what he had done.
“Well, Jimmy,” Nancy smiled softly, trying to reassure him, “it’s okay. You don’t have to steal pies. If you’re hungry, all you had to do was ask.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Jimmy looked up at her, his lips quivering as he tried to speak. “I didn’t mean to steal,” he said, his voice small and shaky. “I just… I don’t get to eat much, and that pie was the best thing I’ve ever had.”
Nancy’s heart ached for him, her mind flooded with thoughts of how different this boy’s life must be.
The hunger in his eyes reminded her of her own son, Henry, when he would eagerly wait for that first bite of her freshly baked pie.
But Henry never had to worry about where his next meal would come from. Jimmy, on the other hand, looked like he had been living with hunger for a long time.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Come with me,” Nancy said after a moment of thought. She stood up and reached out her hand to him. “I’ll bake you a fresh pie, just for you.”
Jimmy’s eyes widened in disbelief, as if he couldn’t trust his own ears. “Really?” he asked, his voice filled with a mix of hope and doubt.
Nancy nodded, her heart filled with a strange but comforting warmth. “Yes, really. You don’t have to be afraid.”
Slowly, Jimmy reached out and took Nancy’s hand.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
She led him back to her home, the boy walking beside her in silence, his eyes darting around as if he wasn’t sure if this was all real. Nancy’s heart swelled with the thought of what she was about to do.
Baking had always been her way of expressing love, and now, after years of baking for a son she could no longer see, she was about to bake for someone who truly needed it.
When they reached her cozy kitchen, Nancy set to work, rolling out the dough, slicing the apples, and adding the perfect amount of cinnamon—just as she had done so many times before.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Jimmy watched her quietly from the corner of the kitchen, his eyes wide as he followed every move she made.
The smell of the pie began to fill the room, warm and comforting, like a hug from a long-lost friend.
Once the pie was baked, Nancy placed it in front of Jimmy. “Here you go, sweetheart,” she said softly.
“This one’s all for you.”
Jimmy hesitated for a moment, as if he couldn’t believe what was happening. But then he grabbed a slice and took a bite. His face lit up with joy, his eyes sparkling as he chewed.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“This is the best pie I’ve ever had,” he said, his mouth still full. He ate with such happiness that it brought tears to Nancy’s eyes.
She watched him in silence, thinking about how something as simple as a pie could bring so much comfort to someone.
As Jimmy devoured the warm slices with obvious delight, Nancy couldn’t help but think of Henry.
She had always dreamed of seeing her son eat his favorite pie again, of watching him enjoy it the way he used to when he was a child.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
But now, in some strange and unexpected way, she was sharing it with another boy who needed it just as much.
Watching Jimmy eat, Nancy felt a deep sense of peace wash over her. Perhaps this was how it was meant to be.
Maybe fate had brought Jimmy into her life for a reason. By feeding him, by offering him kindness when he needed it most, she was honoring Henry’s memory in a way she had never imagined.
For the first time in years, Nancy felt that her grief had led her to something beautiful—a connection, a purpose that gave new meaning to her life.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Maybe, just maybe, this was Henry’s way of sending her a message—that love and kindness should always find their way back to those in need.
Nancy smiled as she watched Jimmy finish the last slice of pie, her heart full of warmth and gratitude.
She had found an unexpected connection in the most unlikely place, and it filled her soul in a way that nothing else had in years.
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: Martha was always quiet and smiling. No matter how hard or small the task, she was always ready to help. One of her colleagues, Chelsea, often took advantage of Martha’s kind nature by asking her to do her work for her. But this time, Chelsea unintentionally did Martha a favor.
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My MIL Put Spyware in My Phone — She Didn’t Like My Surprise in Response
My MIL Put Spyware in My Phone — She Didn’t Like My Surprise in Response
Living with my mother-in-law has been a nightmare. But when she insisted on fixing my broken phone, I thought it was a small step toward mending our strained relationship. Little did I know that her helpful gesture would lead to a shocking discovery that forced me to confront her schemes and ultimately redefine our household’s boundaries.
A woman and her mother in law arguing | Source: Pexels
My life has been hell ever since my Mother-In-Law (MIL) moved in with me and my husband. My name is Emily, 25, and I have been married to my husband Andrew, 28, for five years now. We stay with my MIL, Sophia, who moved in with us due to ill health about three years ago.
From the day I married her son, she made it clear that she thought I wasn’t good enough for him. Our relationship was strained at best, and we did our best to stay out of each other’s paths to keep the peace at home.
Two women who are not getting along | Source: Vecteezy
Now, a few months ago, I broke my phone, and my MIL, who was watching me closely on that day, had a whole rant about how “irresponsible I was” and how I should act “more mature.” Sophia complained incessantly about the cost of fixing the phone, grumbling about how much money I was wasting and how this could have been avoided if I had been more careful.
A mother-in-law repremanding her son’s wife | Source: Pexels
Yet, despite her constant complaints, she was surprisingly adamant about taking my phone to get it fixed herself since she stayed at home. I was a bit confused about why she wanted to go so badly, but I just let her go, as I thought she was making a kind gesture to bring us close. She came back with my phone fixed, and everything seemed normal.
A woman using her working phone | Source: Pexels
Fast forward two months, I noticed how my phone started to act weird. I asked Sophia if she had taken it to a reputable technician. “Of course,” she said, with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I took it to the best place in town.”
“I’m asking because the phone has been acting really weird,” I explained.
Sophia rolled her eyes and scoffed. “You’re being dramatic, Emily. It’s probably just your imagination.”
A woman trying to figure out what is wrong with her phone | Source: Vecteezy
I decided to leave the matter alone but at work weird data-like things kept popping up on its screen, making it almost impossible for me to use the phone. So, after work, I took the phone to the local tech support kiosk.
To my SHOCK, the tech support guy opened it up and said, “Someone put a chip in your phone.”
I blinked, trying to process his words. “A chip? What do you mean?”
A woman with her phone that is giving her problems | Source: Pexels
He pointed at a small, unfamiliar piece of hardware. “This chip allows someone to see your messages, your location, and your emails. It’s a form of spyware.”
My heart raced. “Are you serious? Who would do this?”
He shrugged. “It’s hard to say, but it must be someone who had access to your phone for a while.”
A spyware transmitting data and information | Source: Vecteezy
The only person who could do it was Sophia since my husband worked in another city for three months. I was mad as HELL and as I left the shop, I quickly formulated a plan.
In my mind, I thought, ‘She wants to spy on me? Okay, then I’ll give her something to see.’ So, I decided to leave the chip in my phone.
A woman plotiing | Source: Pixabay
I started signing up for adult shops, videos, and other 18+ content. Then, I began driving to men’s clubs and sending explicit messages to my husband, all while knowing my MIL was watching every move. My MIL became increasingly annoying but she couldn’t say anything specific about what was happening.
An annoyed woman | Source: Vecteezy
When my husband came back, my MIL set us at the table and began accusing me of cheating and all the things she had seen.
“I can’t believe this, Emily!” Sophia started, her face flushed with anger. “I’ve seen the messages you’ve been sending to strange men! And the places you’ve been visiting! Adult shops? Men’s clubs? How could you do this to my son?”
A mother-in-law making accusations | Source: Vecteezy
Andrew looked bewildered. “What are you talking about, Mom?”
Sophia continued, her voice rising. “I’ve seen it all on her phone! Explicit messages, shady locations, and subscriptions to all sorts of adult content. She’s been betraying you, Andrew!”
“How do you know all this?” I asked calmly.
She hesitated, then blurted out, “I saw it on your phone! There’s a chip that… well, it shows everything you’re doing!”
A woman using her phone | Source: Pexels
I feigned shock. “A chip? In my phone? How could that happen?” I exclaimed, widening my eyes in disbelief. “Who would do such a thing? This is outrageous! How did it even get there?”
My MIL’s face turned red. “I… I put it there to keep an eye on you. I knew you were up to something! I knew you were not good enough for my son. A liar and a cheat!”
An accusing finger | Source: Pixabay
I smirked a hint of satisfaction in my voice. “Oh, I knew about the chip. And I decided to have some fun with it. You wanted to spy on me? I gave you a show.” I leaned in slightly, my eyes glinting with defiance. “Every adult shop, every explicit message, every shady location—you saw exactly what I wanted you to see. How does it feel to be played at your own game?”
A woman smirking with satisfaction | Source: Pixabay
My husband looked between us, stunned. “You both knew? What the hell is going on?”
My MIL stammered, “She was… she was doing all those things on purpose?”
I nodded, laughing. “Yes. To show you that spying on someone is wrong. You invaded my privacy, and I wanted you to see how it feels to be manipulated.”
A woman laughing with satisfaction | Source: Pixabay
My husband finally spoke, his voice firm. “Mom, this is unacceptable. You can’t just spy on people. We need to have boundaries in this house.”
My MIL, looking defeated, muttered, “I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to go this far.”
“Apology accepted,” I said, “but from now on, let’s respect each other’s privacy. Agreed?”
Mother-in-law and her son’s wife reconclie | Source: Vecteezy
My MIL nodded reluctantly, and my husband added, “We’ll make sure this never happens again.”
And with that, the tension began to dissipate, and we started to rebuild trust, setting clear boundaries for the future.
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