Dad Takes Disabled Daughter to Prom, Finds $10K Check for ‘Dad of the Year’ in Mailbox Later — Story of the Day

A disabled girl who falls behind without a prom date is in for a surprise when her dad takes her to the prom. The reward he gets the next day in recognition of his love for his child transforms their lives.

“Molly, look! Your dad’s here!” someone from the funeral told the 17-year-old girl who was mourning over her mother Daisy’s coffin.

Danny, Molly’s dad, and her mom had divorced ten years ago. Since then, Molly had only heard terrible things about her father—like he was a ‘drunkard’ and such.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Though Molly didn’t have any bitterness towards Danny, she often missed their dad-daughter connection. But after her mom’s funeral, things were going to change for Molly…

“Hey, sweetheart!” Danny greeted his daughter and hugged her before placing a wreath on his ex-wife’s coffin.

“Sir, is that truck yours? It’s blocking half the parking. You mind moving it?” a guest asked Danny, who was a truck driver.

“Yeah, that’s ma truck. Gimme a second. I’ve just met ma daughter. Hope ya understand. Thank ya!”

Danny was delighted to meet Molly. The only link he had with her all these years was through the child support he paid for her. Daisy never allowed him to see Molly because she feared he would become a bad influence.

The funeral was over, and everybody left. Danny packed all of Molly’s stuff and told her they were going to his house.

“A parcel? Who sent it?” he wondered. A card on it read: “For Dad of the Year”

“But why, dad? I can’t leave this house. Mom and I lived here. It’s filled with our memories.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Molly frowned because Danny wouldn’t listen. He knew he could not leave his daughter alone, particularly considering she often used a wheelchair when she didn’t need crutches. Due to an underlying condition she had developed in her left leg when she was six, Molly limped.

Two days later, Molly moved in with her dad. Though the house was compact and untidy, it comforted her and made her feel loved and included.

As days passed, Danny had difficulty doing things for Molly. Since he never saw her grow up, he did not know how to tackle most things, like braiding her hair, for example. He learned how to do it by watching online videos. But that was not all.

He vacated his bedroom so that Molly would have a nice space to sleep. He even bought a fluffy new bed so that she could rest well. Danny did everything on his end to make his daughter feel at home, but if there was something he kept a secret, it was his constant disappearance at night.

Molly had no idea where her dad had been going at night after she fell asleep. She could only guess he was loitering with his friends in the pub, just as her mother often told her.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

A few days later, Molly stepped down from the school bus and entered their home, crying. She found the door was locked. There was a note tucked behind a plant. “The keys are under the pot. I will be back soon. See ya! – Dad.”

Molly scowled and recalled her mother telling her about her dad’s ‘odd’ habits in the evenings. She frowned thinking her father was out drinking at four in the afternoon.

Hours passed, but Danny never returned home. Molly cooked herself pasta, leaving some for her dad. Then she lay on her bed crying.

“If only I was normal, I wouldn’t be the odd one out. I would have found a date for the prom.”

It turned out that Molly’s teacher had informed them about their upcoming senior prom. All her classmates had found prom dates except for Molly. Nobody was interested in taking her. She figured—who would want to dance with someone with a limp?

Molly cried so loudly that Danny heard her as soon as he arrived home.

“What happened, darling? Why are you crying?”

Molly told him about the prom. “I don’t have a date. I even asked some boys if one of them would at least dance with me during prom, but they refused and laughed. I don’t want to go to the prom, daddy! I want to be alone! Goodnight!”

Molly turned her back on Danny and pretended to sleep, tears soaking her pillow.

Danny couldn’t just leave his daughter in distress. The next day, he bought Molly a beautiful prom dress. And on prom day, Molly was in for a huge tear-jerking surprise. Her dad was taking her to prom.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

Senior students and their parents were flocking outside the hall when a loud screeching roar of an engine drew their attention.

Danny jumped down from the truck. He put a wheelchair on the lawn and helped Molly get out. He pushed the wheelchair on the red carpet as the gathering watched in amazement.

Danny hit the dance floor with his daughter as the music rolled. He lifted Molly and carried her around in circles, syncing with the melodious musical night. For a moment, Molly forgot that she had a disability and laughed her heart out as her dad kept swaying her in his arms.

“My dad is my real superhero. I love him more than anything else in this world. I feel blessed and proud to say I’m his daughter,” Molly cried to her friends after the dance.

Meanwhile, Danny became the show stealer. All the parents flocked around him to praise and applaud him. Danny then shared a bit about himself and his daughter, knowing little about how that evening would soon change their lives.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

Danny and Molly returned home, talking about the fun they had. Then Danny put Molly to sleep in her bedroom and silently crept out of the house.

It turned out Danny had been working a second job as a caregiver at a local nursing home. Besides his part-time day gig as a truck driver, he worked overtime to save money for his daughter’s treatment. When Molly’s disability was diagnosed years ago, many told Danny and Daisy that she would never be able to walk.

But one doctor had assured them he would treat the girl and restore her ability to walk. So Danny quit partying in pubs with his friends and started working two jobs.

Daisy had misunderstood him and thought he was wasting his time at the pub. Danny tried explaining to her, but she never trusted him. Her constant doubts and heated arguments led to their split shortly after. Danny never bothered because he was only focused on saving money for Molly’s surgery and worked hard for the next several years.

It pained Danny whenever he recalled his past. Even that night, while driving to work, he could not shake his thoughts off the terrible things his ex-wife told him. He finished his shift and returned home, unprepared for the surprise that awaited him and Molly.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

That morning, when he returned home from work, Danny was in for a sweet surprise when he found a package in his mailbox.

“A parcel?? Who sent it?” he wondered. A card on it read: “Dad of the Year!”

Inside, Danny found a check for $10,000 and another note:

“Dear Danny, we hope this will improve your daughter’s life. Good luck with her surgery, and we hope you spend more time with her in the evenings. Best Wishes, Your Prom Buddies!”

Danny realized the parents he’d met the previous night were behind this. He shed tears of joy and shared the good news with Molly.

“Really?! My God, daddy…This is unbelievable!” She laughed and cried on his shoulders.

With the money Danny had saved and the $10,000 check, Molly got her surgery. It was successful, and gradually, she was able to walk without crutches.

Meanwhile, Danny quit his second job to spend more time with his daughter. She earned a scholarship to study architecture in another state and was set to leave in three months.

Danny wanted to make the best use of the available time he had with Molly. He taught her to cook, dance, cycle, and even run. He just wanted his daughter to live a normal life and never look back to the days when she was using a wheelchair and crutches.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

What can we learn from this story?

  • There is no stronger love in the world than a parent’s love. Danny walked the extra mile to help his daughter walk. He worked two jobs to save money for her surgery and even took her to prom when she did not have a date.
  • A father is always a superhero to their children. Even when everybody told Danny his daughter could never walk again, he did not lose hope and worked towards making her walk again. He was her true superhero and inspiration for life.

Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.

A one-handed boy makes broth for his late friend’s sick grandma despite facing difficulties. One day, the older woman returns his kindness in the most unexpected way.

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. 

My Boyfriend Proposed Right After Seeing My Luxury Apartment—He Had No Idea It Was a Test

When Sloane finally lets her boyfriend see her luxurious penthouse, he proposes the next day. But when a sudden “disaster” strikes, his loyalty crumbles. What he doesn’t know? It’s all a test… and she’s been watching closely. This is a story about power, love, and the moment a woman chooses herself.

I don’t usually play games, especially with people.

But something about Ryan’s timing felt too polished, too sudden… like he’d skipped a few pages in our story and jumped to the part where I say “yes” with stars in my eyes.

A pensive woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

A pensive woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

Spoiler: I did say yes. Just not for the reason he thought.

We met eight months ago at a dive bar downtown, one of those dimly lit places where the cocktails are all whiskey-based and the bartenders wear suspenders like it’s a religion.

Ryan had an easy smile, a firm handshake, and eyes that lingered just long enough to be charming, not creepy. We talked about everything that night, late 20s burnout, startup dreams, childhood regrets.

The interior of a dive bar | Source: Midjourney

The interior of a dive bar | Source: Midjourney

He was smart. Charismatic. Ambitious in a restless, surface-level kind of way. And when he kissed me outside under a busted neon sign that blinked like it couldn’t decide what mood it was in, I thought that maybe this could be something.

And it was. For a while.

But here’s the thing about charm, it can start to sound like a script.

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

By our third month together, I noticed the patterns. We always went to his apartment. A cramped one-bedroom in a building that smelled faintly of incense and despair.

He called it “charming.” I called it “no hot water after 10.”

Ryan always paid for dinner but only if we ate somewhere cheap. He talked about “tired gold-diggers” and “materialistic women” like it was a rehearsed speech he knew well. I started realizing that he spent a lot of time talking about what he didn’t want in a partner and very little time asking me what I wanted.

What Ryan didn’t know?

The interior of a fast food place | Source: Midjourney

The interior of a fast food place | Source: Midjourney

Two years ago, I sold my AI-powered wellness startup to a tech giant for seven figures. I’d spent my early 20s living on instant ramen and building backend code between shifts at a co-writing space that smelled like ambition and burnt coffee.

The acquisition was clean, and I reinvested most of it. Between that, advisory roles, and a few early crypto plays I cashed out of just in time, I was more than fine. Now, I worked at another tech company, helping build them up and keep myself busy.

But I never dressed the part. I drove my old car because it had been my father’s and he had passed it down to me. I wore clothes that weren’t name brands but fit well on my body. And I hadn’t brought Ryan home because I needed to know who he was before he saw what I had.

A bowl of ramen | Source: Midjourney

A bowl of ramen | Source: Midjourney

By the sixth month, I invited him to my place.

“Finally, Sloane,” Ryan grinned as he stepped out of the car. “I was starting to think that you were hiding a secret family or something.”

The doorman, Joe, greeted me by name, smiling warmly.

“Sloane, welcome home,” he said, tipping his hat.

A smiling doorman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling doorman | Source: Midjourney

Ryan glanced at him, then back to me, eyebrows raised. I didn’t say anything. I just tapped the button for the private elevator and stepped inside. The doors slid shut with a whisper.

When they opened again, we were in my apartment. My sanctuary. Light poured in from the floor-to-ceiling windows. The skyline glittered like it had dressed up for the occasion. My living room was clean and quiet, the kind of quiet that came with double-insulated glass and peace that money can buy.

He didn’t step in at first. He just stood there, staring.

An elevator in a foyer | Source: Midjourney

An elevator in a foyer | Source: Midjourney

“This is… wow, Sloane,” he said finally. “You live here?!”

“Yeah,” I said, slipping off my heels and placing them on a mat I’d imported from Tokyo. “Not bad, right? Comfortable.”

He walked in slowly, like he was afraid to touch anything but couldn’t help himself. His fingertips dragged across the marble countertops. He opened the wine fridge, Sub-Zero, custom installed, and nodded to himself.

“Not too shabby,” he said.

A wine fridge in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A wine fridge in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

Ryan continued to walk around, stopping at one of the abstract canvases hanging over the fireplace.

“How much is that one worth?” he asked.

I shrugged but I was watching him now. Closely.

He didn’t ask to sit down. He just kept moving. His eyes lingered on the custom couch, on the Eames chair in the corner, the fridge that synced with my sommelier app to suggest pairings based on what I had chilled.

A chair in the living room of a penthouse | Source: Midjourney

A chair in the living room of a penthouse | Source: Midjourney

He didn’t kiss me that night. He barely touched my arm or leg, something that he had done all the time. Instead, he just kept smiling that dazed, boyish smile… like he’d stumbled into a fairytale and didn’t want to wake up.

And one week later, he proposed.

Ryan and I hadn’t really talked about marriage. Not in the way you do when you’re building a future. No deep conversations about kids or biological clocks or timelines, no dreamy what-if scenarios over wine.

A close up of a man | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a man | Source: Midjourney

Just vague nods to “someday” and offhand comments about “building something together.”

It always felt like a placeholder, not a plan.

So when he showed up a week later, standing in my living room with a ring box in one hand and nervous energy leaking from every pore, I blinked.

Unaware. But also… not surprised.

A ring box on a coffee table | Source: Midjourney

A ring box on a coffee table | Source: Midjourney

Ryan launched into a speech. He went on about knowing when you’ve found the one. About how life’s too short to wait or waste time. Something about seizing the moment when the universe gives you a sign.

I smiled. I pretended to be surprised. I said yes. I even kissed him.

But something inside me stayed still.

A smiling woman standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney

Because what he didn’t know was that Jules, my best friend, had seen him the day after his jaw dropped when he saw my penthouse.

She’d called me from the mall.

“He’s at the jewelry counter,” she said, whispering. “Sloane, he’s literally pointing at rings like he’s late for something. He’s not even looking at them properly! Girl, are you sure about him? He’s going to propose soon. I can feel it from his energy.”

A ring display at a jewelry store | Source: Midjourney

A ring display at a jewelry store | Source: Midjourney

I didn’t know how to answer her. I cared for Ryan, sure. But did I love him?

Knowing what I knew, the proposal wasn’t romantic at all.

It was strategic. So yeah, I said yes. But not because I was in love. Because I needed to know if he was.

Did Ryan want a life with me? Or did he want a lifestyle that came with a marble kitchen and a fridge smarter than most people?

I needed to be sure.

A romantic table setting | Source: Midjourney

A romantic table setting | Source: Midjourney

So I smiled, slid the ring on, and started planning the trap.

One week later, I called him in tears.

“Ryan?” I sniffled, letting just enough panic bleed into my voice. “I got fired. They said it was restructuring but I don’t know… Everything’s just… falling apart.”

A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

There was a pause. Just a beat too long.

“Oh… wow. That’s… unexpected,” he said slowly, like his brain was trying to pull the words out of sludge.

“I know,” I whispered. “And to make it worse… the apartment? My goodness! A pipe burst. There’s water damage everywhere. The wooden floors are ruined in the guest room. It’s unlivable.”

A close up of a burst pipe | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a burst pipe | Source: Midjourney

More silence. Thick, heavy silence. And then a throat clearing.

“Unlivable?” he repeated. “What does that mean?”

“Exactly what you think it means, Ryan. I’m staying with Jules for now. Just until I figure things out.”

This time, the silence stretched.

A man talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

A man talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

I sat cross-legged on my leather sofa, bone dry, of course, twisting my hair into a loose, anxious knot for effect. I imagined him on the other end, blinking stupidly, recalculating.

The ring.

The “forever” speech.

The skyline he’d mentally moved into.

“I… I didn’t expect this, Sloane,” he finally said, his voice having lost all its lustre. “Maybe we should… slow things down. Rebuild. You know, get stable before we move forward.”

A woman sitting on a couch wearing a fluffy sweater | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting on a couch wearing a fluffy sweater | Source: Midjourney

“Right,” I murmured, just above a whisper, letting my breath hitch like I was trying not to cry. This was it… this was Ryan refusing to see me. This was Ryan blatantly showing me that he didn’t care.

“I get it,” I said.

The next morning, he texted me.

“I think we moved too fast. Let’s take some space, Sloane.”

No calls. No offers to help. He was just… gone.

A cellphone on a table | Source: Midjourney

A cellphone on a table | Source: Midjourney

I waited three days.

And then I called him. It was a video call this time because some truths deserve a front-row seat.

Ryan answered the phone, looking like he hadn’t shaved or slept well. His hoodie was wrinkled and his voice came out rough.

“Sloane, hey…”

A close up of a tired man in a grey hoodie | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a tired man in a grey hoodie | Source: Midjourney

I was standing on the balcony, wearing my silk pajamas, barefoot against the warm stone tiles. I had a chilled glass of champagne on the side table next to me, and I was ready to put my heartache on hold.

And to teach Ryan a lesson, of course.

I didn’t smile. I just tilted the phone slightly.

A glass of champagne on a table | Source: Midjourney

A glass of champagne on a table | Source: Midjourney

“You’re back home?” he asked, hope sparking his eyes.

“I’m home,” I said simply. “But it’s funny, isn’t it?”

“What is, Sloane?” he asked, sighing like he was just so tired.

“That you vanished faster than the so-called flood in my apartment. Well, everything is fine. There was nothing wrong with my apartment. I just wanted to know if you truly cared about me… but I guess not, huh?”

A woman standing on a penthouse balcony | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing on a penthouse balcony | Source: Midjourney

His mouth opened, then closed.

“I got promoted too, by the way,” I added. My voice was steady, but my heart was hammering.

This was it.

This was the moment I ended it with Ryan. All those months of us getting to know each other, spending time together… all of that was over.

“Anyway,” I continued. “The CEO offered me the European expansion. I’ll have Paris on my doorstep. Big win for me, Ryan.”

A view of the Eiffel tower | Source: Midjourney

A view of the Eiffel tower | Source: Midjourney

A flicker of shame crossed his face. Or maybe it was guilt. They often wear the same skin, don’t they?

“But thank you,” I continued, lifting the glass to my lips. “For showing me what ‘forever’ means to you. We clearly have different definitions of the word.”

“Sloane, wait… I…”

“No,” I said, my voice cracking on that word. I didn’t cover it. I let him hear the pain in my voice. “You don’t get to speak to me. Not now, not ever.”

A tired man with his eyes closed | Source: Midjourney

A tired man with his eyes closed | Source: Midjourney

He blinked.

“You had your chance, Ryan. You had me. Before the skyline, before the stories, before the rushed proposal… And you let go the second it didn’t look easy for you.”

I held his gaze, just long enough to make it sting.

Then I ended the call.

Blocked. Deleted. Gone.

A side profile of a woman standing on a balcony | Source: Midjourney

A side profile of a woman standing on a balcony | Source: Midjourney

Jules came over that night with Thai food and zero judgment.

She didn’t ask questions. She just kicked off her shoes, handed me a container of spring rolls, and flopped onto the couch like she’d lived there in another life.

“He really thought he played you,” she said, unwrapping her chopsticks. “Meanwhile, you were three steps ahead, glass in hand.”

Thai food takeout on a coffee table | Source: Midjourney

Thai food takeout on a coffee table | Source: Midjourney

I gave her a half-smile, eyes still pulled toward the skyline. It looked the same as it always had, endless and glowing, but somehow… brighter. Maybe it was just me, finally seeing clearly.

“It’s weird,” I murmured. “I’m not even heartbroken, maybe a little bit. But I am… disappointed. Like I wanted him to pass the test, Jules. I really did. I was rooting for Ryan.”

“Girl,” she said, mouth full of noodles. “He didn’t even bring an umbrella to the storm. You made one phone call and he bailed like you were on fire. That man was in it for the perks, not the person.”

A carton of noodles | Source: Midjourney

A carton of noodles | Source: Midjourney

I laughed, really laughed, but there was a lump in my throat anyway. Not for Ryan.

Rather for what I thought we could’ve been. For who I thought he might be.

“I think the worst part,” I said slowly. “Is knowing that he wouldn’t have survived the real storms. Like… if things actually got hard.”

Jules put her carton down and looked me dead in the eye.

“He’s not your storm shelter, babe,” she said. “He was just the weak roof you hadn’t tested yet.”

A pensive woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

A pensive woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

And somehow, that landed harder than anything else.

People love to say, “You’ll know it’s real when things get hard.”

So, I made things look hard.

And what did he do?

A glum woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

A glum woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

Ghosted me. Ran.

Because it was clear that Ryan wasn’t in love with me. He was in love with the idea of me, the lifestyle, the convenience, the curated illusion. But the second that cracked, even just a little, he folded.

Not everyone can handle the truth behind the shine.

But me? I’d rather be alone in a penthouse with my peace than hand over the keys to someone who only wanted the view.

A close up of a man | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a man | Source: Midjourney

Real love isn’t about who stays when the lights are on. It’s about who holds you through the flicker. Ryan left before the first rumble of thunder.

And now?

I still have the view. The job that promises to take me places and the fridge that talks.

And most importantly?

I have the lesson.

So here’s to champagne, closure, and never again confusing potential with promise.

A glass of champagne | Source: Midjourney

A glass of champagne | Source: Midjourney

What would you have done?

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