It was a winter evening, late at night. The clock already showed 11:30 p.m. Emily was peacefully dreaming in her bed, while I sat in the kitchen, sipping hot tea. Finally, all the day’s tasks were done, and I was enjoying the quiet.
My mind was buzzing with thoughts. I was reflecting on the events that had unfolded in my life over the past few years.
It seemed like just yesterday I had a complete family. We were happy. My little daughter Emily, a loving husband, and our husky dog named Duke. But then an event occurred that changed our entire way of life forever.
One evening, James called and said he wouldn’t be coming home to sleep. His words sounded strange; this had never happened before.
— Why not? — I asked, surprised. — Problems at work?
— Sarah, I won’t be coming home tomorrow either. In fact, I’m never coming back. I’m leaving you. I’ve met someone else. I should’ve told you sooner. “I’m sorry,” — my husband said over the phone.
I stood there for a long time, holding the phone, listening to the long beeps.
Of course, I had my suspicions that he was seeing someone else.
Lately, he had become distant and withdrawn, always stepping into another room to talk on the phone. But I never made jealous scenes. And somehow, my heart felt calm.
No tears, no hysterics. Just a strange sense of peace. Perhaps I never truly loved James. I married him not out of love but because I was pregnant with Emily. I thought our child needed a father.
“Well, to hell with you. We’ll manage without you. We don’t need you,” — I decided.
Of course, the situation wasn’t easy. I was still on maternity leave, and James had been the one earning all the money. What now? How would we live? Emily was a sickly child, and my boss at work was strict, hating when employees missed days, especially for sick leave. But my gloomy thoughts were interrupted.
At that moment, Duke approached the front door and whimpered softly. He wanted to go for a walk. James used to take him out in the evenings after work. It was bitterly cold outside, but what could I do? I bundled up and stepped out into the yard with him. The wind howled, nearly knocking me and Duke off our feet. The snowfall was so heavy I could barely see.
As we passed the playground, I noticed a lonely, sad woman sitting on a bench. She was wrapped in a woolen scarf, shivering.
“Strange, it’s a blizzard out here, and she’s just sitting there. Something’s not right. She’ll freeze to death,” — I thought.
I decided to approach and find out what was wrong.
— Hello, what’s happened? Why are you sitting here alone in this weather? — I asked the elderly woman.
As I got closer, I saw she was crying bitterly. Tears streamed down her face, freezing into tiny icicles in the cold. My heart sank. She reminded me of my own grandmother, who had passed away years ago. The woman had the same kind eyes, radiating warmth and goodness.
— Oh, I have nowhere to go, dear. I won’t burden you with my troubles. I’ll sit here a bit, rest, and move on. You go, don’t worry about me, — she whispered faintly.
— Nowhere to go? Should I call the police? I’m not leaving you out here to freeze in the middle of the night, — I said firmly, sitting down next to her on the bench.
Duke whimpered and started tucking his paws under himself.
— Poor little pup, he must be freezing too. You go, everything’s fine. I’m just a bit cold, but I’ll get moving soon. The more you move, the warmer you get, — the old woman said, rubbing her frost-reddened face with her mittens.
— No, you’re coming with me now. I’ll make you some hot tea, and we’ll figure out what to do next, — I said decisively, picking up her suitcase.
She obeyed, stood up from the bench, and shuffled after me and Duke like a child.
Her name was Margaret Elizabeth. First, I put the kettle on and gave her hot tea to keep her from catching a cold. I wrapped her in a warm blanket. Slowly, she began to come around. We sat in the kitchen and talked for a long time. I learned a lot about her difficult life.
Margaret’s husband had died young, leaving her to raise her son alone. She loved him dearly and spoiled him. As a child, he never lacked for anything. He had the best toys in school. Perhaps that’s why he grew up to be a complete egoist. He started drinking early, talking back to his mother, and bringing friends home to drink with them.
She shed so many tears, begging her son to stop drinking, but he wouldn’t listen, only snapping at her. Once, he nearly raised his fist at her. She was sometimes afraid of him when he came home drunk. She’d lock herself in her room and quietly pray that her son, Michael, would stop drinking, get a job, and become a decent person. But yesterday, something terrible happened. He brought home a painted-up woman. Naturally, they stumbled in, reeking of alcohol from a distance.
— You told me you lived alone. Who’s this? — the woman said with a scowl.
— Yeah, babe, I live alone. This is my aunt, she’s leaving now, — her “beloved” son said spitefully.
Margaret quickly got up and went to her room. A few minutes later, her son burst into her bedroom, demanding she leave the house immediately. He wanted to be alone with his “lady love,” and his mother was in the way.
— But where am I supposed to go? I have nowhere else to live. This is my only home, — she said, stunned by his audacity.
— You’ve got the country house. Go there. You’re nothing but trouble. You’ve ruined my whole life. I hate you, — he hissed venomously. The hatred in his eyes terrified her.
Margaret quickly gathered her things (thankfully, he at least allowed that), dressed, and wandered into the freezing night, not knowing where to go. She stumbled upon the playground and sat down. That’s where I found her.
After her story, I was horrified. How could someone treat their own mother like that? I settled her on the couch and went to my room. I couldn’t sleep for a long time, my mind racing with ideas to help her. Finally, I came up with a plan and fell asleep with a smile. Meanwhile, dawn was breaking outside.
Morning came, we had breakfast, and Margaret began thanking me and saying goodbye.
— Where are you going? — I asked, astonished.
— I’ll go look for an apartment. Maybe I’ll head to the country house, though there’s no heating there, but what can I do? I’ll ask social services, maybe they’ll figure something out.
— You know, I have a good proposal for you. My husband left me, and we’re short on money now. I need to go back to work. You could stay here, look after Emily. She’s often sick, and who needs an employee who’s always on sick leave? Plus, I don’t have time to walk Duke. Stay. You’d be a huge help, — I said with a smile.
Margaret looked at me and burst into tears of joy.
— Thank you, dear. God bless you. When it gets warm, Emily and I will go to my country house. There’s nature, fruit trees—she’ll be healthier there. And you can come visit us on weekends.
— Oh, Margaret, thank you so much. Of course, I’ll come visit.
And so, we started living together. I never once regretted letting her stay. She helped me so much, and Emily grew to love her like a grandmother. In a short time, we became deeply attached to each other.
In spring, we went to the country house. Margaret had a beautiful garden with apple trees and a large two-story house. Behind it was a forest and a lake. A wonderful place, no doubt about it.
I fell in love with the place and spent my vacation there with Emily and Margaret. It was wonderful being surrounded by people dear to me.
Spring passed, and summer arrived. One day, a neighbor stopped by. A handsome man with a kind smile.
— Good afternoon. I see you have guests? — he said, handing Emily a basket full of ripe cherries.
— These aren’t guests, Matthew. This is my daughter and my beloved granddaughter. I have a new family now, — Margaret said with a smile.
— Come to the kitchen, I’ll put the kettle on.
— I’d love to. But I didn’t come just to visit. I have important news. They’re planning to install gas lines here. You should join in—you’ve wanted this for a long time, — said the neighbor.
— Oh, Matthew, that’s a great idea. But I’m having financial troubles right now. It probably won’t work out. Maybe next time, — Margaret sighed.
— Don’t worry about it. I’ll cover the costs. The workers are coming anyway, so it’s a chance to do a good deed for you. No objections. I want to make a gift to your new family, — Matthew said with a smile.
— Well, alright. Thank you so much, God bless you. But I’ll pay you back bit by bit. I don’t like being in debt.
Evening came. We had dinner, and I put Emily to bed. I stepped outside, where Margaret was chatting with Matthew. He turned to me and said:
— Have you seen the beautiful sunset over the lake?
— Unfortunately, I haven’t had the time. But I’ve heard it’s mesmerizing.
— Go see it! Emily’s asleep anyway. I’m tired, I’ll go rest. Don’t waste time, go look at the sunset—you won’t regret it, — Margaret exclaimed.
— Yes, Sarah, come on, — Matthew urged.
Margaret stood behind him, making all sorts of gestures to signal I should agree. I couldn’t help but smile—it was amusing.
— Alright, you’ve convinced me, — I said with a smile.
To be honest, Matthew charmed me right away with his looks and kindness. So I agreed, though I felt a bit nervous.
We walked to the lake and strolled for a long time, admiring the sunset. Matthew shared his story with me. His wife had died young, and he struggled with the loss, throwing himself into work to keep sad thoughts at bay. I told him about myself and how I met Margaret. I instantly felt he was the man I’d been waiting for my whole life. For some reason, I trusted him completely.
Morning began with shouting in the yard. Alarmed, I jumped out of bed and ran outside. Margaret was furiously arguing with a drunken young man.
— We’re going to the notary right now, got it? You’ll sign the country house over to me. You think that woman needs you? She’s just waiting for you to die so she can take the house. You naive fool, — the man yelled, swaying.
— Oh, here’s the woman herself. Trying to steal my mother’s house? Not gonna happen. Pack your bags and get out. This is my house, got it? — Michael shouted venomously.
— No, don’t chase Sarah away. She’s like a daughter to me, — Margaret cried.
— Like a daughter, you say? And you’ve completely forgotten your real son? Get out of here! — Michael grabbed my shoulder.
Who knows how it would’ve ended if Matthew hadn’t appeared.
— What’s going on here?
— None of your business. Get lost, — the drunk spat.
— You’re no longer my son. Leave me alone. Wasn’t it enough that you kicked your own mother out of the apartment? Now you’ve shown up here too? — Margaret snapped, losing her temper.
Her son must have really pushed her too far. I’d never seen her so angry before.
— Matthew, please help me. This is my alcoholic son. I’m afraid of him, — she cried.
Matthew remained completely calm. He glanced at the staggering Michael with disdain, took him by the arm, and led him to the back of the yard.
They talked for a long time. Margaret was nervous, worried Matthew might hurt the boy. After all, he was still her son, no matter how despicable.
We just sat and waited. The gate creaked, and we rushed outside. Matthew stood there, smiling.
— What did you say to him? Is he gone? — we bombarded him with questions.
— Calm down. I won’t let anyone hurt you. I had a calm talk with the guy. I told him this is our house, Sarah. Margaret sold it to us. And you’re my wife.
I was stunned by his words.
— Why did you say I’m your wife? — my voice trembled, and I flushed red.
— It just slipped out, I don’t know how, — Matthew replied.
— Oh, how sweet, — Margaret beamed.
— Alright, my dears. Tomorrow we’ll go to the notary, and I’ll sign the house over to you and Emily. No objections. I never thought I’d have such a wonderful daughter and granddaughter in my old age. I love you, — Margaret said, tears of joy in her eyes as she hugged us.
I was over the moon with happiness. I had so missed a mother’s love and support. Thanks to Margaret, I found it. She became like a real mother to me. I lost my own mother early and grew up almost an orphan.
Now everything in my life would fall into place. I had a wonderful daughter, a loving man, and a mother. That’s the story that happened to me. I wish you, dear readers, to be loved as well.
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