While standing in the church with the man she loved the most, a young woman looked at the priest when he asked if anyone had a problem with the marriage. Suddenly, an elderly man barged into the church, telling the priest he was against the wedding.
“You’re gorgeous!” Myron told Hilary minutes after meeting her at a party for the first time.
Hilary felt butterflies in her tummy when she saw him look at her from head to toe. It had been ages since a man last complimented her, and she couldn’t recall what it felt like when a man held her hand while looking into her eyes. Her last relationship was nothing short of miserable because of her ex’s anger issues.
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However, meeting Myron at her friend’s party gave her a ray of hope. It made her feel she could try her luck again and date this man who looked at her like she was the most beautiful girl in the room.
Myron stayed by her side the entire evening, cracking jokes while telling her everything about him. He wanted to impress her during their first meeting because he thought she was the perfect girl for him.
The following day, Myron and Hilary met in a park, discussing their interests, goals, and life problems while walking together. Their discussion only made them grow closer, compelling Myron to ask her for a date the next day.
“Hilary, I think you are the girl I have been looking for all this time,” Myron said. “Will you be my girlfriend?”
“What?” Hilary’s hands went to her face, covering everything except her glistening eyes and forehead. She couldn’t believe the man she had met two days ago wanted to start a relationship with her.
“Will you be my girlfriend?” Myron repeated his question, looking into Hilary’s eyes.
“Yes!” she exclaimed and wrapped her arms around him. “I’ll be your girlfriend, Myron.”
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Hilary was delighted to start a relationship with him because her last relationship had left her heartbroken. She believed Myron’s love would help her heal, unaware he was keeping secrets from her.
However, when Hilary told her parents about it, a grain of doubt crept into their minds.
Soon, Hilary introduced him to her parents, and he took no time to win their hearts. He told them he had lost his parents at a young age and missed them a lot.
“Don’t worry,” Hilary’s mother said. “We are your parents now, okay? You can share everything with us. We’re always here to support you!”
Hilary felt relieved when her parents accepted her boyfriend. Their approval made her believe she had made the right choice by dating him and thought she was ready to spend the rest of her life with him.
The couple dated for five months before Myron made his next move. He took Hilary to an expensive restaurant on a date and knelt while everyone looked at him.
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“Hilary, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to share all my happiness and sorrows with you,” Myron said. “Will you marry me?”
While others in the restaurant gasped, Hilary couldn’t believe Myron had proposed to her in front of so many people. She felt her heart skip a beat when she saw him on his knees, looking straight into her eyes, waiting for an answer.
“Yes!” Hilary said as she held his hands and pulled him up, wrapping her arms around him while tears trickled down her cheeks. She couldn’t believe the man she loved the most wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.
Since Hilary was head over heels in love with Myron, she didn’t feel that everything was happening too quickly. A man she had only known for five months suddenly wanted to be her life partner, but she couldn’t sense that the timing of his proposal was too odd.
However, when Hilary told her parents about it, a grain of doubt crept into their minds. They thought it was strange of Myron to propose to her too soon, but their suspicions vanished when they talked to him and saw how much he admired their daughter. Soon, the couple began preparing for their wedding, unaware that fate wouldn’t allow them to tie the knot.
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During the preparations, Hilary noticed many things about her soon-to-be husband that she had never seen before. During one of the discussions, she noticed Myron was interested in the material side of things.
“I’m so excited about all the stuff people will bring us!” he said, his eyes sparkling with greed.
“There’s going to be a lot of expensive gifts. I can’t wait!”
Although Hilary did not say anything to him then, she thought it was strange of him to think about the gifts. She wanted him to talk about their relationship, future, and how they would support each other after marriage, but it seemed like Myron was interested in other things.
“I guess he’s just acting immature,” Hilary thought, unaware of Myron’s plans.
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A few days before the wedding, Myron came to Hilary’s house and told her something she wasn’t expecting. “I think we should have a prenuptial agreement. What do you suggest?”
“Yes, I think that’s a smart decision,” Hilary said after a moment’s thought. “We should be prepared for the worst.”
“Exactly!” Myron exclaimed. “I think we should add a clause that states that if you initiate a divorce, you would have to pay up a fortune!” he chuckled coldly.
She thought it was strange of him to bring up a prenup, and she couldn’t be entirely sure if he was joking about it.
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Later that day, Hilary called her lawyer and asked about the clause. She thought Myron was acting selfish, but the lawyer assured her this clause was quite common.
“Don’t worry, Hilary,” the lawyer said. “The same rule would apply to Myron if he initiates divorce.”
“He would pay me the same amount?” Hilary asked.
“Yes,” the lawyer replied.
“You don’t have to worry about anything. Most people add this clause to their prenup agreement.”
Hilary felt relieved after talking to her lawyer and felt terrible for thinking Myron was greedy. She called him and said she was ready to sign the prenuptial agreement. However, another strange incident made her doubt his intentions.
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A few days later, Hilary was cleaning Myron’s cupboards when she stumbled upon a divorce certificate with Myron’s name. “What is this, Myron?” Hilary immediately confronted him. “You never told me you were married!”
“Hey, calm down!” he replied. “It’s not what you think. Trust me.”
“How much more are you hiding from me, Myron? We are getting married in a few days!” Hilary yelled.
“Listen to me,” he held her shoulders and made her sit on the bed. “This marriage was a mistake. I was young and impulsive when I married this woman. It’s in the past now and means nothing to me!”
“Why should I believe you?” Hilary rolled her eyes and looked away.
“I swear this marriage means nothing to me,” Myron said. “All I want to do is forget about it, and that’s the only reason I never told you about it. Trust me, honey.”
“I’m marrying you in a few days, and I have no idea who you are!” Hilary started crying. “I’m starting to doubt my decision now.”
“Come on,” Myron hugged her. “You know how much I love you. Why would I ever lie to you, my love? Stop crying, please.”
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Once again, Myron cleared Hilary’s doubts through his magical words. He convinced her he wasn’t keeping any secrets, but the truth was otherwise.
“I am against this marriage!” an unknown man shouted while walking down the aisle.
A day before the wedding, Myron was talking to someone on the phone at Hilary’s place.
“If you mess it up, I won’t be able to vouch for myself!” he whispered, unaware that Hilary overheard him.
Once he hung up, she asked him who he was talking to. “What you said sounded so suspicious!” she said. “What’s going on, Myron?”
“That was my ex-girlfriend,” Myron rolled her eyes. “She was threatening to show up at the wedding.”
“Really?” Hilary asked.
“Yes,” Myron said confidently. “She has lost her mind or something.”
Yet again, Myron had managed to deceive her, though Hilary’s heart grew restless with each pang of doubt and suspicion. Little did he know she would learn about his true intentions sooner than he expected.
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Hilary woke up early on her wedding day and started getting ready. She was excited to marry the man of her dreams but had no idea what awaited her inside the church. She couldn’t wait to see what her groom looked like.
Once she was ready, she went to the church with her family and was delighted to see how well everyone had dressed up for her big day. All her friends and family were waiting for her to walk down the aisle and stand beside Myron.
She walked down the aisle holding her father’s hand while everyone looked at her. Once she reached the altar, the priest began reading the wedding vows. Then, he asked the guests if anyone was against the marriage.
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“I am against this marriage!” an unknown man shouted while walking down the aisle. “I can’t allow Myron to marry this innocent girl.”
Suddenly, the guests started whispering amongst themselves while Hilary gasped in shock. She looked at Myron, who was staring at the man angrily.
“I warned you, Myron, didn’t I?” the man grumbled. “You refused to listen to me, so now you must bear the consequences.”
Suddenly, a team of police officers barged into the church while Myron tried to escape. However, he couldn’t get away because the police had surrounded the church from all sides. They arrested and dragged him outside while Hilary kept asking Myron what was happening.
“Where are they taking him?” she cried. “What have you done, Myron? Why don’t you stop them?”
Hilary collapsed on the ground and cried hysterically.
Why did he do this to me? Why did he play with my feelings? Hilary thought she would faint from the pain of what was unfolding.
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Then, the man who had canceled her wedding walked toward her. “I’m so sorry for what you are feeling right now,” he said. “The police arrested Myron because he was accused of repeated fraud.”
“What?” Hilary gasped. “But how do you know that?”
“I’m Myron’s estranged father,” the man said. “You can call me Mr. Brown.”
“But he said his parents had passed away,” Hilary was shocked.
“I know he keeps lying to girls,” Mr. Brown said. “He cut ties with me when I discovered he was a professional gigolo and was looting girls by marrying them for money.”
“What?” Hilary couldn’t believe her ears.
“I tried my best to stop him, but he never listened,” Mr. Brown said. “I had given up on him until the police knocked on my door one day asking me if my son lives here.”
“Myron had given my address everywhere because he knew the police would come after him,” Mr. Brown continued. “I got so sick of this but knew he wouldn’t stop. His mother cheated on me the same way.”
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It turned out that Mr. Brown had contacted Myron to warn him when he learned about Hilary. The father wanted his son not to play with Hilary’s feelings, but Myron refused to listen.
“It was you who called him yesterday?” Hilary asked. “He lied to me that it was his ex-girlfriend.”
“It was me,” Mr. Brown said.
“I called him, but he didn’t listen to me. So I had to call the police.”
Whatever Myron did in the past few months started making sense to Hilary. She finally understood why he had been acting so strangely.
“Thank you for saving me, Mr. Brown!” she said. “I owe you for saving me from getting robbed.”
Soon, Myron’s case was taken to court, and the judge ordered him to compensate every woman he had conned. A few months later, Hilary received her share of the settlement but decided not to keep it.
“This is for you, Mr. Brown,” she said while handing him the money. “Thank you for saving me!”
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What can we learn from this story?
- You can’t get away with deceiving people. Myron thought he would keep marrying women for money, unaware he would soon get caught. He wouldn’t have conned multiple women if he knew his father would send him to jail one day.
- Sometimes, you have to take a difficult step for your loved ones. It wasn’t easy for Mr. Brown to send his son to jail, but he did it because he wanted to teach Myron a lesson.
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Old Woman Brought Son’s Favorite Pastry to His Grave & Found Note Saying ‘Thank You’ upon Her Return – Story of the Day
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.
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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.
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“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.
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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.
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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.
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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!”
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.”
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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.
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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.
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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.
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“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.
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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.
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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.
This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.
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