A pregnant mother of three needs to sell her stroller to feed her three children after she was abandoned by her husband.
Anne Sargent sat on her kitchen floor and cried. It was past midnight, and it was the only time she could allow herself to show her pain — when her three children were asleep upstairs.
Anne felt the baby move and placed a tender hand on her belly. “I’m sorry,” she whispered to her unborn child. “I’m doing my best, but it’s just not good enough…”
Just two months ago, Anne had been a radially happy wife and mother, confidently expecting the birth of her fourth child, and confident in her place in the world and her husband’s love. That woman was gone.
Derek had come home one night and told her he was leaving, just like that. “But why?” asked Anne. “I don’t understand, I thought we were happy!”
“YOU were happy!” Derek cried. “YOU, not me! All you did was have babies and fuss over them, now there’s one more on the way!”
“But you WANTED children!” Anne protested. “You were happy every time I was pregnant…”
A family is built on understanding and mutual respect.
“Happy?” screamed Derek. “Happy that you gave all your love and attention to the kids? All I was to you was a paycheck! Well, that’s OVER!”
So three months after Anne announced her fourth pregnancy, Derek was gone. Anne immediately went out and found herself a part-time job at a local grocery store.
The owner would have been willing to give her a full-time job, but for that, Anne would have needed to pay a sitter for her three boys and that would have consumed most of her salary, so she carefully stretched her salary. But even with the child support check Derek sent, it just wasn’t enough.
Anne started selling some antique china she’d inherited from her grandmother and that paid for the utilities for a few months. Then she sold a silver brush-and-mirror set she’d had since she was a little girl, and that paid for groceries. Little by little, as her belly grew, Anne sold her treasures to keep her family safe and fed.
Then one day, there was nothing left to sell except bric-a-brac. Anything of greater value was gone. Anne looked at the old stroller she’d brought up from the cellar.
It had been hers when she was a baby and had been used by each of her children in turn. It was very old, probably from the sixties, but it was in mint condition.
She ran her hand over the roses painted on the side and bit back her tears. She needed it for the new baby, but she needed the money even more.
She thought about getting a good price for it down at the flea market. Vintage items were always popular… And so she took the stroller to the flea market, and one of the dealers gave her $50 for it. Not much at all, but every cent helped.
Anne walked away, sure she’d never see the stroller again, but she was wrong. Two days later, she opened the front door and saw the stroller on the porch!
There was an envelope inside and Anne opened it and read: “Please call me.” The message was followed by a phone number. Anne called the number ad a woman answered her.
“Hello?” Anne said. “Are you the person who left the stroller? How did you know who it belonged to and where I live?”
“Derek told me,” the woman on the other side said. “I’m Grace Robbs. I think we should meet.”
An hour later, Grace was sitting on Anne’s sofa sipping tea. She was a pretty woman, six or seven years younger than Anne, and she looked very unhappy. Her pale skin was blotched and her eyes were swollen as if she’d been crying.
“How do you know Derek,” Anne asked, even though in her heart she already knew the answer.
“I was his girlfriend,” Grace said.
“Was?” asked Anne. “You broke up?”
“Today, as a matter of fact,” Grace said and started crying. “I didn’t know…I didn’t know about you or the children, or the baby… I found out I was pregnant, and I didn’t know how to tell him…”
“So I went to the flea market with a friend and saw this darling stroller and I bought it. I put it in the middle of the lounge and tied balloons to it with a message: ‘Hello Dad!’”
“But he wasn’t happy like I thought he’d be. He started screaming and asking where II got the stroller and if his stupid wife had given it to me. He asked if it was a joke.”
“He told me to take it right back, that he didn’t want to know about your baby. So I told him: ‘It’s for OUR baby.’ and that’s when he went crazy.”
“He accused me of wanting to trap him and said he already had three brats with you and one more on the way, and he didn’t want my baby. He told me to get out and come to you.”
“He said: ‘Might as well have all the breeding cows under the same roof.’ I’m so sorry, I didn’t know about you, I guess I didn’t know him at all!”
Anne got up and put her arm around the crying girl. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay, you’ll see.”
“He’s kicked me out,” Grace said quietly. “I have no family here and nowhere to go. I have a job, but with the rents in this city, I can’t afford to live alone, and who is going to want a pregnant roommate?”
“I will!” Anne said firmly. “I need a tenant because what I earn isn’t enough, and I can’t work full-time because I can’t afford a babysitter for after school.”
“But…” Grace’s face lit up. “I work online! I can take care of the kids after school. I love kids!”
“So I can take a full-time job?” asked Anne, delighted. “The owner of the grocery store wants me to manage it for him. With your help, I can! And you don’t have to worry about stuff for the baby. After three kids I have enough for an army.”
Grace smiled through her tears. “And we have the stroller too…” she pointed out. “Are you sure? It’s Derek’s baby…”
“No,” Anne shook her head. “It’s YOUR baby, and my children’s sibling, that is all that matters.”
The two women settled into a new life together, and when Anne’s baby was born, Grace was there. When it was Grace’s turn four months later, Anne held her hand. They became a real family and raised their five children together.
As for Derek, he had several failed relationships and eventually came knocking on Anne’s door. He was shocked when he saw Grace there and asked to speak to Anne. “What do you want, Derek?” Anne asked.
“I miss you, babe…” Derek said.
Anne stared at him for a long moment then said, “Sorry, so not interested!” And she closed the door in his face.
What can we learn from this story?
If we work together, we can overcome any problem. Anne and Grace couldn’t survive alone, but together they were an unbeatable team.
A family is built on understanding and mutual respect. Anne and Grace forged a family out of their friendship and mutual support.
Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.
Entitled Brat Mocks School Custodian, Gets Taught a Priceless Lesson in the Best Way Possible
Entitled Brat Mocks School Custodian, Gets Taught a Priceless Lesson in the Best Way Possible
Entitled teen Emma thought the world revolved around her and she mocked people based on their appearance. One day, the girl took her mockery too far and brutally insulted Mrs. Johnson, a poor older custodian. But karma was about to deliver a priceless lesson this entitled brat wouldn’t soon forget.
Alright, lovely people of the internet! Ever witnessed a high schooler throw some serious shade at someone who totally didn’t deserve it?
Because what I’m about to tell you involves a major brat who ruthlessly mocked a poor old custodian and got a life lesson delivered in the most epic way possible…
A schoolgirl in a hallway | Source: Midjourney
So here’s this rich girl named Emma in my sophomore English class, who basically waltzed around like she owned the place.
Think designer everything, a posse of giggling followers, and the permanent sneer of someone utterly convinced the world was her personal runway.
Her favorite target? Our sweet custodian, Mrs. Johnson, a hardworking older lady in her late 60s. Think soft-spoken, kind, and always cheerful – that’s Mrs. Johnson for you.
A custodian mopping the floor | Source: Midjourney
This sweet custodian in our school, bless her heart, was magic. Always had a smile, even when mopping up cafeteria mystery spills that defied identification.
Emma, though? She’d make snide remarks about Mrs. Johnson’s cleaning cart, calling it a “janitor chariot” in that grating, nasally voice.
A teen girl laughing | Source: Midjourney
One afternoon, I caught Emma dumping her half-eaten lunch on the floor by the water fountain, then sauntering away like it was nothing. Mrs. Johnson patiently approached the mess with a sigh.
“Emma, honey,” she called out gently, “did you drop this?”
A burger on the floor | Source: Midjourney
Emma whipped around, highlighter poised like a weapon. “Ugh, whatever, Mrs. J. Just clean it up, that’s your job, right?” The look on Mrs. Johnson’s face… well, let’s just say the sunshine usually radiating from her seemed to dim a bit.
A girl smiling | Source: Midjourney
Ugh, you know those moments where you just want the earth to swallow you whole? Well, that’s exactly how I felt witnessing Emma’s latest tirade.
This girl, with her designer everything and attitude, seemed to take a particular pleasure in tormenting Mrs. Johnson.
An older woman looking ahead | Source: Midjourney
One lunch period, I rounded the corner by the cafeteria to find Emma holding court near the overflowing trash cans. Mrs. Johnson was pushing her cleaning cart past them, mop leaving a clean streak in its wake.
A girl teasing someone | Source: Midjourney
Emma, with a smirk that could curdle milk, decided to unleash a verbal grenade at the poor woman who never meant harm to anyone.
“HEY, MRS. JOHNSON,” the girl barked with a chuckle, “MAYBE IF YOU HAD STUDIED HARDER, YOU WOULDN’T BE STUCK CLEANING UP AFTER US!”
A sad woman’s eyes | Source: Midjourney
The worst part? Her disciples as in the little gang that followed her like a puppy burst out laughing. Mrs. Johnson stopped pushing her cart, the rhythmic squeak of the wheels falling silent.
Her shoulders slumped a fraction, and for a horrible moment, I thought I saw a flicker of tears welling up in her kind eyes.
An upset woman looking up | Source: Midjourney
Then, Emma doubled down, leaning in with a malicious glint.
“Seriously, do you even know how to read? Or did you just skip school altogether?”
Mrs. Johnson’s silence was deafening. The hurt flickered in her eyes like a dying flame, and I knew I couldn’t be a bystander any longer. Emma needed a lesson, and detention wouldn’t cut it.
A sad woman on the verge of crying | Source: Midjourney
Fast forward to chemistry class later that week, our chemistry teacher Ms. Thompson droned on about the periodic table.
Suddenly, she cleared her throat, the sound sharp enough to pierce Emma’s bubble. “Alright class,” she announced, a hint of a smile playing on her lips, “we have a special guest lecturer today. A former university professor with a wealth of knowledge to share.”
A chemistry teacher in class | Source: Midjourney
A hush fell over the room as the door creaked open. A woman in a crisp cap and gown strode in, a stack of papers clutched confidently in her hand. Her gaze swept the classroom, lingering for a beat on Emma, who finally looked up from her phone.
You should have seen Emma’s white-as-a-ghost face when she saw the guest lecturer. You see, this wasn’t some stuffy professor flown in from a distant college. No, this woman, radiating quiet authority, was none other than Mrs. Johnson!
A shocked girl | Source: Midjourney
“Good afternoon, class,” Mrs. Johnson greeted. “Today, we’ll be discussing the fascinating world of…” She paused, letting the silence build. “Perhaps, Ms. Emma,” she continued, her eyes locking with Emma’s, “you can tell me the difference between a hypothesis and a theory.”
The classroom held its breath. Emma’s mouth gaped open like a landed fish. This was only the beginning, and the best part? She had no idea what was about to hit her.
A woman staring intensely at someone | Source: Midjourney
Emma’s jaw dropped, and her face turned as red as a tomato. Mrs. Johnson proceeded to give the most engaging lecture on organic chemistry I had ever witnessed.
She explained complex concepts with ease and answered every question thrown at her with the expertise of someone who had spent years in the field.
“So, who can tell me why carbon forms four bonds?” Mrs. Johnson’s eyes scanned the room.
An annoyed girl | Source: Midjourney
“Isn’t it because of its four valence electrons?” a boy named Jake piped up, a bit unsure.
“Exactly! And how does that affect its ability to form complex molecules?” Her voice was encouraging, drawing the class in.
“It means… it can bond with many different elements?” a student named Sarah hesitated.
A boy raising his hand in class | Source: Midjourney
“Precisely! And that’s why carbon is the backbone of organic chemistry. It’s versatile,” Mrs. Johnson beamed.
Emma, still red-faced, mumbled, “I didn’t know a janitor could know so much.”
A girl lost in deep thought | Source: Midjourney
Mrs. Johnson paused, looking directly at Emma. “You know, knowledge isn’t confined to titles. It’s about passion and curiosity.”
The class was silent, absorbing her words while some giggled at Emma.
“Any more questions?” Mrs. Johnson asked, turning back to the board.
A woman looking ahead | Source: Midjourney
Emma was so embarrassed and furious that she sat frozen in her seat. Her eyeballs darted around, tracking Mrs. Johnson like a predator stalking its prey.
After the lecture, Mrs. Johnson removed her academic cap and looked directly at Emma.
“Maybe if you study harder, you won’t end up making assumptions about people based on their jobs, girl!” she said calmly.
A woman pointing her finger at someone | Source: Midjourney
The entire class erupted in applause while Emma sat there, stunned and embarrassed.
You should’ve seen the girl’s face. She was seething. She wasn’t the type to let this slide.
The next thing we knew, Emma stormed out of the classroom, her footsteps echoing down the hall. But my mind was still on this entitled brat. What was she planning?
A girl leaving a classroom | Source: Midjourney
Of course, Emma, being the firecracker she was, couldn’t take her public humiliation lying down. The rumor mill went into overdrive, churning out a story so outlandish it almost made me laugh.
Apparently, The girl started spreading rumors that Mrs. Johnson had borrowed the professorial garb from a friend (who?) and simply read the lecture off a script (written by whom?).
Funny, right?
A girl in the school cafeteria | Source: Midjourney
The rumor spread like wildfire. Even some normally level-headed students started giving Mrs. Johnson the side-eye. It was infuriating! But Mrs. Johnson, bless her heart, remained calm. No dramatics, no tearful outbursts. She simply… waited.
The opportunity for a counter-strike arrived with the much-dreaded parent-teacher conference the next week. Parents flooded the school, armed with questions and concerns.
People at a doorway | Source: Midjourney
Among them were Emma’s parents, both prominent figures in the community with a reputation for being… well, let’s just say they wielded their influence like a well-worn scepter.
As I finished my conference with a concerned parent, I spotted Mrs. Johnson standing by the refreshments table.
A woman looking to her side | Source: Midjourney
During the conference, she requested to speak. She calmly walked to the front of the room, pulled out a folder, and began distributing copies of her Ph.D. diploma, letters of recommendation from her previous university, and published research papers.
The parents and teachers were stunned. Even me.
Certificates on a table | Source: Midjourney
“As you can see,” Mrs. Johnson declared, “I have the qualifications necessary to teach chemistry.” She paused, letting the evidence sink in. “I’ve heard rumors suggesting otherwise, and I want to address them directly.”
Emma’s parents, visibly uncomfortable, exchanged worried glances. Mrs. Johnson turned her gaze to them. “Mr. and Mrs. Thompson, I’m aware your daughter has been spreading these rumors.”
A startled couple | Source: Midjourney
Emma’s mother started to speak, but Mrs. Johnson raised a hand gently. “Please, let me finish.”
She took a deep breath. “I took this custodial job not because I lacked education or ambition, but because I needed the extra money to care for my ill husband. My choices were driven by love and responsibility, not by a lack of intelligence or effort.”
A woman staring at someone | Source: Midjourney
A hush fell over the room. Parents looked at each other, some nodding in understanding, others shifting uncomfortably.
“My husband passed away last year,” Mrs. Johnson continued, tears welling up in her eyes. “But I stayed on as a custodian because this school and these students mean the world to me.”
A woman’s teary eyes | Source: Midjourney
Emma’s face went completely pale at this point. Mrs. Johnson stepped back from the podium, and said, “I hope this clears up any misunderstandings. I’m here to educate and support your children, no matter my title. I might be a custodian who washes toilets and scrubs floors… but I’m still human.”
Emma’s eyes darted around the room, looking for an escape.
Anxious girl biting her nails | Source: Midjourney
Emma’s parents were mortified. They apologized profusely to Mrs. Johnson and promised to deal with their daughter.
Emma was grounded for months and had to do community service as part of her punishment. One of her tasks? Helping Mrs. Johnson with her custodial duties after school.
A young girl on the verge of crying | Source: Midjourney
I watched Emma begrudgingly pick up a mop and start cleaning the hallway. Mrs. Johnson worked alongside her, showing her the ropes. At first, Emma was sullen and silent, but over time, I noticed a change.
One afternoon, as I passed by, I heard Emma ask Mrs. Johnson, “Why did you stay on as a custodian after your husband passed?”
A girl standing in a school hallway | Source: Midjourney
Mrs. Johnson paused, wiping her hands on a rag. “This school became my second home. And the kids here, well, they needed someone who cared.”
Emma frowned. “But you could have done something else, right?”
Mrs. Johnson smiled gently. “Sure, but sometimes, it’s not about what you can do, but where you feel you can make the most impact.”
A girl talking to someone | Source: Midjourney
Emma’s eyes softened. “I never thought about it that way.”
As the weeks went by, Emma’s demeanor shifted. She began to show up early, ready to work, and started to ask Mrs. Johnson more about her life. They shared stories, and slowly, Emma developed a grudging respect for her.
An older woman’s compassionate eyes | Source: Midjourney
The girl was ashamed of herself and even apologized to Mrs. Johnson. How cool was that?!
Mrs. Johnson, ever the kind soul, forgave Emma and used the opportunity to mentor her. Eventually, Emma’s grades improved, and she became more considerate towards others.
By the time she graduated, she had completely transformed from the entitled brat she once was.
A cheerful young girl smiling | Source: Midjourney
One afternoon, Emma approached Mrs. Johnson after finishing her custodial duties. I was there, talking to the sweet old lady. I thought Emma would hesitate or feel shy to talk to the custodian in front of me.
But the girl proved me wrong. “Mrs. Johnson, I’m really sorry for everything. I was awful to you,” she said and I couldn’t believe my eyes.
A woman smiling at someone | Source: Midjourney
Mrs. Johnson smiled gently and replied, “Emma, we all make mistakes. What’s important is that you learn and grow from them.”
Emma nodded, her eyes sincere. “I have, thanks to you.”
Ah, it was such a heartwarming sight, you know! The mentorship deepened, with Mrs. Johnson helping Emma with her studies and offering life advice. Emma’s grades soared, and her attitude shift was noticeable to everyone.
A girl in a classroom | Source: Midjourney
Graduation day arrived, and Emma, now the valedictorian, stood at the podium. She took a deep breath, scanning the audience until her eyes landed on Mrs. Johnson.
“I want to thank someone very special,” she began, “Mrs. Johnson, our school’s custodian and my mentor, taught me the most valuable lesson of all: never judge a book by its cover.”
A young girl on graduation day | Source: Midjourney
The crowd murmured, and Mrs. Johnson looked surprised and touched. We teachers, along with the principal himself, were equally moved. I even spotted him discreetly wiping a stray tear from his eye.
Emma continued, “Her kindness, wisdom, and support changed my life. Because of her, I’m standing here today, ready to face the future.”
As the applause erupted, the girl stepped down and hugged Mrs. Johnson tightly. “Thank you,” she whispered, “for everything. For opening my eyes.”
A girl on graduation day | Source: Midjourney
Mrs. Johnson’s eyes were misty and all she could do was pull Emma into a tight hug. The room erupted in applause, and even some of us teachers found ourselves wiping away tears.
Lesson learned: never underestimate someone by their appearance!
Mrs. Johnson, the custodian, just dropped some serious knowledge (and a Ph.D.!). Anyone else ever been surprised by someone’s hidden depths? Let’s hear about it!
A woman looking ahead | Source: Midjourney
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