Woman Adopts Non-English Speaking Girl, Is Shocked to Uncover the Truth When She Learns to Communicate – Story of the Day

After finding out she couldn’t have a baby, Annie’s doctor gave her another choice: adoption, which led to a girl named Abiona, who couldn’t speak English at first. But when her new daughter learned enough, she told Annie a secret that changed everything.

Annie sat anxiously in Dr. Martinez’s office, surrounded by posters of happy families. The doctor, a middle-aged woman with a comforting demeanor, invited her to sit.

Smiling, Annie asked, “When can we proceed with the fertilization procedure?”

Dr. Martinez took a deep breath before saying, “Unfortunately, the tests show you cannot have children. I’m very sorry.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock

For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock

Annie’s heart sank. Despite considering IVF, the doctor advised against it due to low success rates and high risks. But she suggested an alternative — adoption — and handed Annie a booklet filled with information and pictures of children needing a home.

***

Annie sat at her kitchen table, the quiet of her home enveloping her as she browsed through the booklet. She was drawn to a photo of a baby, entranced by his innocent, smiling face.

Picking up the phone with trembling hands, she called the adoption agency and made an appointment. A few days later, she met Caitlin, a social worker, who welcomed Annie into her modest office. “Sorry you had to wait,” she said, shaking her head.

“It’s okay, don’t worry,” Annie replied, masking her nervousness.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock

For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock

They sat and discussed Annie’s career, home life, and desire to adopt. “Can you devote enough time to a child? It’s not just a few hours a day,” Caitlin wondered.

Annie responded, “Yes, I understand. I’m ready to make sacrifices for my child.”

“Adoption can be challenging, especially in the beginning,” Caitlin continued, but ultimately, she approved Annie’s application.

“I understand,” Annie said, her voice firm. “Thank you.”

***

The next morning, Caitlin’s call interrupted Annie’s breakfast. “Hello, Annie?” she inquired.

“Yes, it’s me,” Annie replied.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock

For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock

“We’ve found a child for you,” the social worker revealed and talked about Abiona, a six-year-old from Congo who didn’t speak English. “Would you like to meet her today?”

“6 years old? No English? I… I need to think about this,” Annie’s voice wavered.

“Of course, take all the time you need. Have a good day,” Caitlin responded, but Annie heard her sighing before hanging up.

Annie spent the rest of the day pondering the idea of adopting a six-year-old. Motherhood typically began with a baby, so going straight into parenting an older child seemed… odd. However, this could be her only shot.

She called Caitlin the next day with a resounding yes, and the social worker arranged a visit with Abiona, who was staying with a foster family.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

***

Arriving at the foster home, Annie knocked on the door, her heart racing. She was greeted by a woman who, in a not particularly friendly tone, said, “Hello, how’s it going?”

“Hi, I’m Annie,” she replied, fidgeting slightly. “I came to see Abiona.”

The woman showed Annie inside, and it was hard not to notice the chaotic scene of her house. Kids were running around, the television blared in the background, and the living room was full of stuff.

But the woman pointed to a corner where Abiona sat, quietly drawing. “That’s her. Good luck because she doesn’t talk to anyone,” she said and left to scold some other kids.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

Annie approached the girl, who briefly met her gaze before resuming her drawing. “Did you draw these yourself? They’re imposing,” she asked, kneeling to look closer.

Abiona nodded slightly without speaking.

The foster mother interrupted. “Don’t even try. She doesn’t understand a word of English,” she said. Annie looked up to see her sporting a superior expression.

“That’s fine,” Annie said, focusing entirely on the girl. She sat beside her and began drawing, too, attempting to communicate through pictures.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

She drew a house and a stick figure with long hair, saying, “This is my house. I live here. Do you want to live with me?”

The girl stared for a second at the paper, then at Annie’s face, before drawing a smaller stick figure next to hers. The gesture made Annie grin as her stomach fluttered.

***

She brought Abiona to her home and introduced her to her new cozy bedroom. The girl stayed silent and observant as she explored everything.

When she found paints and brushes laid out, she immediately began to draw, humming a happy tune. Annie watched for a second, taking in the moment. I’m finally a Mom, she thought before joining her new daughter.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

Over the following months, Annie tried teaching Abiona English, but the traditional methods overwhelmed her. Therefore, she adapted her approach, using drawing sessions to teach her the language in a fun, engaging way.

Abiona responded positively, slowly learning words and phrases.

One day, while exploring the concept of family with a picture book, Annie pointed to an illustration and said, “See, this is a family,” then pointed to herself, “Mom,” and to Abiona, “Daughter.”

But instead of nodding in understanding, Abiona’s reaction was unexpected; she burst into tears.

“What’s wrong?” Annie asked, patting the girl’s head.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

Abiona grabbed some of her drawings. “I have Mom and Dad,” she revealed, pointing her finger at the paper. Annie’s eyes widened. She didn’t understand because Caitlin had never talked about Abiona’s family.

“What are you saying, honey?” she asked.

“Bad…bad men took me from Mom and Dad,” the girl continued.

“Okay, okay,” Annie said, her voice turning low and soothing. “Tell me more.”

Through her broken English, Abiona explained that the evil men had taken her, but then she was with the police. She showed Annie a handmade toy, her only memory of her biological mom.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock

For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock

“I little. Don’t know Mom’s face. But Mom smells honey. She give me this,” Abiona finished, biting her bottom lip and looking away to wipe a tear.

Annie was breathing heavily then, trying to contain her own emotions. A six-year-old shouldn’t have to be so strong by herself. She hugged the little girl, who began sobbing into her chest. Revealing that secret made their bond much stronger.

***

Months later, Abiona suffered a severe coughing fit in the night. Annie rushed her to the hospital as quickly as possible. “I need help! My daughter, she can’t breathe!” she wailed at the emergency room staff.

The medical team quickly attended to her daughter, leaving Annie anxiously waiting outside the exam room. Soon, she was stabilized but surrounded by beeping machines that only made things scarier. But the absolute horror came a few hours after the staff conducted several tests.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

One doctor entered the room, took a deep breath, and began. “I’m very sorry to tell you this. But Abiona is terminally ill. She only has a few days left.”

His words were careful, but they cut through Annie like a knife. “What?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “What’s wrong with her?”

The doctor explained her condition. It had a complicated name that Annie didn’t understand as her mind was fogging with the implications.

“Should I have noticed sooner? She seemed so healthy. I adopted her a few months ago. No one told me anything.”

“You couldn’t have done much even if you had noticed something. This is a genetic disease, and it manifests very unexpectedly. This is not your fault,” the doctor finished, patting her shoulder, and left.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

***

Abiona awoke an hour later.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Annie whispered, squeezing the girl’s hand. “Is there anything you want? Anything I can get for you?”

Abiona’s voice was weak but clear. “I want to see my mom,” she murmured, a wistful look in her eyes.

Annie nodded and, determined to fulfill this wish, left the hospital with Abiona’s handmade toy, hoping it held clues to finding her biological mother. She went to the police station, where they agreed to test the toy for DNA.

Miraculously, they found a match and gave Annie the biological mother’s contact information. Her name was Tendey. Despite the call going unanswered, Annie insisted on finding Abiona’s mother, even if she had to do it in person.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

She drove to Tendey’s address, gathered her courage, and knocked on the door. When a woman appeared, Annie introduced herself and asked, “Tendey?”

The woman responded quickly, impatient. “Yes. That’s me, but I don’t want to join your god. I don’t need any services, and I don’t want to buy anything,” she said, almost closing the door.

But Annie threw her arm up, stopping her. “This is about Abiona,” she blurted. “She is currently in the hospital. The doctor said that she has a serious genetic disease and has a few days to live.”

Annie thought Tendey would be dismayed, but the woman crossed her arms instead. “I gave her away. Voluntarily. Renounced parental rights. So everything that is happening now is not my problem,” Tendey stated coldly.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

“Please. She’s your daughter. She’s dying and wants to see you,” Annie pleaded.

Tendey shook her head. “Listen. I don’t want to see her. Deal with it.”

Looking beyond Tendey, into her house, Annie sighed and noticed something. “Do you sell perfumes? Do you have a honey-scented one?”

“Ugh, yes,” Tendey said, looking behind her, confused.

“How much?” Annie asked.

***

At home, Annie searched on her computer, typing away as her plan fully developed. She searched for an actress resembling Tendey and found Sarah. Annie called and explained the situation.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

Sarah was touched. “I’ll do it. It’s a strange request, but I can see it comes from a place of love,” she said. Annie provided all the details she knew about Abiona and her mother.

In the hospital room the next day, Annie and the actress prepared to fulfill Abiona’s last wish. Sprayed with honey-scented perfume, Sarah approached the girl’s bedside, carefully holding her tiny hand.

“Abiona, this is your mother,” Annie gently introduced.

Abiona, whose condition had worsened so much in just a day, believed Annie’s words easily. “You smell like Mom,” the girl whispered and opened her arms for a hug.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

Sarah obliged, saying, “It’s because I am Mom.”

Abiona turned to Annie. “Thank you,” she whispered before falling asleep again. Sarah left a while later when it became clear that the girl wouldn’t wake up any time soon.

As the sun set, Annie watched over her daughter. Her breaths were too heavy, but that had been the norm for a few hours. She whispered to her, providing comfort and assurance in the quiet room filled with the soft beeping of machines.

She touched the girl’s head at some point and noticed the intense warmth. In her weakened state, Abiona faintly murmured “Mom” before falling back into unconsciousness. Annie rushed to find her doctor, who came in, did a quick examination, and exhaled, lowering his head.

“I’m afraid this may be it,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“No!” Annie wailed, hugging her child.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

Abiona slept a little more soundly in Annie’s arms, but love wasn’t always enough. She passed after midnight with a final soft puff of air.

As the tears started flowing freely, Annie whispered, “You were loved. So loved. I’ll keep loving you forever.”

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Our Stepdad Gifted My Mom a Pack of Toilet Paper for Her Birthday — Our Revenge on Him Was Harsh

My stepdad always made a big deal about being the “man of the house,” but when his “special gift” for my mom’s birthday turned out to be a pack of toilet paper, I decided it was time for payback. And let’s just say someone else ended up desperately needing that present.

My stepfather, Jeff, loved reminding us he was the breadwinner of the house throughout our entire childhood. Anytime we sat down to dinner, he’d start with his usual spiel.

A man lauhing at a dinning table | Source: Midjourney

A man lauhing at a dinning table | Source: Midjourney

“You’re lucky I keep this roof over your heads,” he’d say and chortle. He also said it all the time while leaning back on his worn-out recliner. It was his favorite thing in the world.

My mom, Jane, always nodded along. She was the kind of woman who avoided conflict at any cost. She wasn’t raised in the 1950s, but her upbringing had been different from ours. Staying quiet had become almost an art form for her.

As her kids, my siblings (Chloe, Lily, and Anthony) and I could see that she desperately wanted to speak up but didn’t. Meanwhile, we surely didn’t consider him “the king of the castle” or a “real man,” which were other phrases Jeff used to describe himself.

A woman at a dinning table | Source: Midjourney

A woman at a dinning table | Source: Midjourney

Yes, he paid all the bills while we were growing up, and we were thankful. But that wasn’t an excuse to treat our mother like a servant and think he was better than the rest of us.

We had tried for years to get Mom to leave him to no avail.

Eventually, we all moved out of their house as we reached adulthood, but my sisters and I continued to visit Mom often. Anthony lived on the other side of the country, but he checked in every other day.

A man on the phone | Source: Midjourney

A man on the phone | Source: Midjourney

Still, we worried about her.

I felt that our visits weren’t enough to truly know what was going on in that house. I often sat alone in my apartment and wondered if Mom would ever leave this man and if there was something he could do to finally make her snap out of her proverbial shackles.

Yes, this is where it gets good.

This year, Jeff simply went too far. For days leading up to Mom’s birthday, he wouldn’t stop bragging about the “special gift” he’d picked out for her.

A man on a reclining chair | Source: Midjourney

A man on a reclining chair | Source: Midjourney

“This one’s going to knock her socks off,” he said over dinner at their house, grinning like a buffoon.

I wanted to believe him. Maybe he had finally decided to treat her with the respect she deserved. But deep down, I knew better. Jeff was Jeff, and people like him never changed.

My mom’s birthday arrived, and of course, my sisters and I were there, sitting in the living room. Jeff had a twinkle in his eyes, and I knew Mom had hope in hers.

Three sisters with presents in their hands | Source: Midjourney

Three sisters with presents in their hands | Source: Midjourney

After she opened our presents, my stepdad handed her a huge, beautifully wrapped package. He was smiling, and my mom’s face lit up as she carefully untied the ribbon.

“Oh, Jeff, you didn’t have to,” she said softly.

“Yes, I did. Go on. Open it,” he urged, leaning forward in his chair.

She unwrapped the box slowly, savoring the moment… until she saw what was inside— toilet paper. 12-pack. Four-ply. Jumbo rolls.

A woman smiling with a big present | Source: Midjourney

A woman smiling with a big present | Source: Midjourney

Mom blinked in confusion.

“It’s so soft. Just like you!” Jeff declared, slapping his knee and cackling. “And look, four-ply, to represent your four kids. Perfect, right?”

Mom let out a nervous laugh, but I could see her eyes glistening. My sisters and I exchanged a look. This wasn’t just a bad joke; it was cruel.

We’d had enough. We had to do something.

A woman looking angry | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking angry | Source: Midjourney

***

Two days later, our plan began to take shape. Jeff loved two things: being the “big man” and free food. So, we invited him to a “family dinner” at the Chinese restaurant he always raved about.

Chloe, my youngest sibling, was the one who planted the idea.

“We’ll do it in his favorite place. He won’t suspect a thing,” she said, smirking.

Lily, being the eldest and most practical, raised an eyebrow. “And what happens after?”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Chloe replied. “We’ll handle it.”

A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

We set the date and made sure to hype it up, so Jeff wouldn’t miss it.

“Dinner’s on us this time,” Chloe told him sweetly

Jeff puffed out his chest. “Well, it’s about time someone else paid for once. I’m glad that being out of the house has finally opened your eyes to how great you fared because of me!”

We rolled our eyes internally.

The restaurant was bustling that night. Shiny red lanterns hung from the ceiling, giving the space a nice reddish glow.

Chinese restaurant | Source: Midjourney

Chinese restaurant | Source: Midjourney

The food from other tables smelled delicious, and I could tell Jeff was hungry as we sat down at our table.

“When are your mom and Lily getting here?” he asked, wrinkling his nose toward the front door.

“Don’t worry. They’ll be here soon. How about we order food anyway?” I suggested, nodding towards Chloe.

She agreed and started rattling off things she wanted, things we specifically planned to order: Szechuan beef, Kung Pao chicken, and the spiciest mapo tofu on the menu.

Chinese menu | Source: Midjourney

Chinese menu | Source: Midjourney

Jeff ordered his usual, but I knew what we had in mind would still work.

Each dish came out looking like a masterpiece of fiery reds and deep browns, garnished with fresh herbs and enough chili to make a grown man cry.

Chloe’s eyes twinkled as the waiter finished arranging everything on the table.

“Jeff, you can handle spicy, right?” she asked, pretending to be concerned.

A woman smiling at Chinese restaurant | Source: Midjourney

A woman smiling at Chinese restaurant | Source: Midjourney

Jeff stayed silent for a second, stumped, then nodded quickly. “I didn’t realize you gals wanted to share everything. Of course, I can eat anything. Nothing is ever too spicy for a real man.”

I chimed in with, “Be careful with these, though. They’re pretty hot.”

I just knew my words would make him mad.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Amelia,” Jeff scoffed and took his chopsticks to skewer a piece of beef straight into his mouth.

A man looking serious at a Chinese restaurant | Source: Midjourney

A man looking serious at a Chinese restaurant | Source: Midjourney

At first, he gave out an exaggerated moan, to “prove his manliness,” but soon, his face turned redder than the lanterns above us. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he chewed and breathed through his nose.

“Everything alright?” Chloe asked, again faking worry.

“Yes, yes,” he lied through his full mouth. “This is good stuff.”

I was sure Jeff wouldn’t grab more after gulping down an entire glass of Coke, but Chloe and I began eating in earnest.

“Oh, it’s not so spicy after all,” Chloe commented, smiling sugary-sweet. She was baiting him.

A woman smiling with chopsticks in her hand | Source: Midjourney

A woman smiling with chopsticks in her hand | Source: Midjourney

I nodded, grabbing more.

Not to be outdone, Jeff began to eat more. He was breathing roughly now, but when we asked if he was alright, he simply said, “This really clears the sinuses, gals.”

Still, his fingers went up and snapped at the waiter to bring him more Coke.

Chloe leaned over and whispered, “He’s going to feel that later.”

“Oh, definitely,” I whispered back, grinning conspiratorially.

A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

***

While Jeff was busy showing off his “macho” tolerance for heat, Mom and Lily were busy back at the house with a rented U-Haul and movers.

They worked quickly to load up Mom’s belongings, such as clothes, keepsakes, her favorite chair, and even the toaster. I told them to take the things Mom had given Jeff over the years by saving up when she could: the recliner and his specialty tools.

A truck and workers loading boxes | Source: Midjourney

A truck and workers loading boxes | Source: Midjourney

But the pièce de résistance was Chloe telling them to remove every single roll of toilet paper in the house.

***

Jeff was still red when we left the restaurant, and he was grumbling about Mom and Lily being no-shows. So I just suggested going to the house to see if anything had happened.

When we arrived, everything was ready. The truck had already left. Meanwhile, Mom and Lily were hiding in the garage.

Jeff walked in with Chloe and me right behind him. He barely made it two steps into the living room before he froze.

A dimly lit living room | Source: Midjourney

A dimly lit living room | Source: Midjourney

“Where’s my recliner?” he barked, scanning the empty spot.

“Gone,” Chloe piped in casually, tilting her head. “Mom took what’s hers.”

Jeff turned to us and his face reddened again, but before he could say another word, his stomach gurgled loudly. He doubled over slightly, clutching his gut.

“Oh, man, I think that spicy food—” He paused, looking around frantically.

A man holding his stomach | Source: Midjourney

A man holding his stomach | Source: Midjourney

“Is something wrong, Jeff? I hope it wasn’t the food,” I said, blinking innocently.

He stared daggers at me before bolting down the hall. Moments later, we heard the bathroom door slam.

Lily and Mom appeared out of their hiding spot right in time to hear the sound of Jeff panicking. “What the hell? Where’s all the toilet paper?!” he yelled.

I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“We took that along with the recliner!” I shouted, laughter bubbling up. “After all, it also belonged to Mom!”

A woman laughing | Source: Midjourney

A woman laughing | Source: Midjourney

“WHAT?” he shouted back.

It seemed like he wasn’t getting it, so Mom stepped closer to the bathroom door. “I’M LEAVING YOU, JEFF! And I took what was mine,” she exclaimed firmly. “Including my dignity.”

Jeff groaned loudly from behind the bathroom door. “You can’t just leave me like this!” he yelled.

“WATCH ME!” Mom replied, adding, “Not that you can right now, but enjoy staying in the bathroom all night!”

A woman next to a closed door | Source: Midjourney

A woman next to a closed door | Source: Midjourney

My sisters and I stared at each other, giggling.

Jeff groaned, and there were other unsavory sounds, which I took as our cue to leave. “Let’s go, Mom,” I said.

She nodded and walked out, thanking us.

***

The next day, Jeff tried to call her. Over and over again, he left voicemails full of fake apologies and pitiful excuses.

“Jane, come on, be reasonable! You can’t just run off like this!” he begged.

A man using a phone | Source: Midjourney

A man using a phone | Source: Midjourney

But Mom didn’t answer or call back.

Instead, Chloe had a better idea.

On his birthday, we sent Jeff a little gift. A jumbo pack of toilet paper, wrapped just as carefully as the one he’d given Mom.

Attached was a handwritten note that read: “For a real man.”

Rolls of toilet paper on a porch | Source: Midjourney

Rolls of toilet paper on a porch | Source: Midjourney

Mom moved in with Lily, a temporary arrangement where we all helped while she found a job. Anthony was delighted to learn about what we had done and wished he was there, too.

From what I hear, Jeff’s still complaining to anyone who’ll listen. But Mom is finally living her life without his control, and we couldn’t be prouder.

A happy woman | Source: Midjourney

A happy woman | Source: Midjourney

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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