The old house, usually echoing with the phantom sounds of laughter and the clatter of family dinners, was unnervingly silent. Arnold, his 93 years etched into the lines of his face, sat in his favorite armchair, the fading afternoon light casting long shadows across the room. He had meticulously prepared for this day, his birthday, a milestone he had hoped to share with the five children he and his beloved wife had raised.
He had sent out invitations, not just any invitations, but handwritten letters, each one filled with the warmth of his love and the anticipation of their reunion. He longed to see their faces, to hear their voices, not through the cold, impersonal medium of a phone call, but in person, with hugs and shared stories.
The morning had begun with a flutter of excitement, each distant car sound a potential herald of their arrival. He had set the dining table, five empty chairs waiting patiently, each one a silent testament to the love he held for his children. But as the hours ticked by, the excitement waned, replaced by a gnawing sense of disappointment.
He tried calling, his fingers trembling as he dialed each number. Voicemail after voicemail, each unanswered call a tiny pinprick to his heart. It dawned on him, with a chilling clarity, that he would be spending this special day alone, a solitary figure in a house filled with memories.
He stared at the empty chairs, his mind drifting back to the days when they were filled with the boisterous energy of his children, their laughter echoing through the house, their faces alight with joy. He remembered birthdays past, filled with homemade cakes and silly games, with hugs and kisses and whispered “I love yous.”
The silence in the house grew heavier, pressing down on him like a physical weight. He felt a pang of loneliness, a deep ache in his heart. He had always been a man of resilience, a man who found joy in the simple things. But today, the silence was deafening, the loneliness unbearable.
He rose from his armchair, his movements slow and deliberate, and walked to the window. The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden glow across the garden. He watched as the shadows lengthened, stretching across the lawn like long, reaching fingers.
Just as he was about to turn away, a sound pierced the silence. The doorbell rang, a sharp, insistent chime that startled him. He hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest. Could it be?
He walked to the door, his footsteps echoing in the empty hallway. He opened the door, and his breath caught in his throat.
Standing on the porch were not his five children, but a group of young people, their faces filled with warmth and kindness. They were his neighbors, the ones he had waved to over the years, the ones he had shared a kind word with.
“Mr. Arnold,” a young woman said, her voice gentle, “we heard it was your birthday. We wanted to wish you a happy birthday.”
Behind her, a young man held a large cake, its candles flickering in the evening breeze. Others held balloons and small gifts.
Arnold’s eyes filled with tears. He was overwhelmed, touched by their unexpected gesture of kindness. He had been so focused on his children, on the family he had created, that he had overlooked the community around him, the people who cared.
They came inside, filling the house with laughter and chatter. They sang “Happy Birthday,” their voices a chorus of warmth and affection. They shared stories and memories, their presence a comforting balm to his loneliness.
As the evening wore on, Arnold felt a sense of peace settling over him. He realized that family wasn’t just about blood, it was about connection, about shared experiences, about the kindness of strangers.
He looked at the young people around him, their faces glowing in the candlelight, and he knew that he wasn’t alone. He had a community, a network of support, a family of friends.
He blew out the candles on his cake, a small smile playing on his lips. He had spent his 93rd birthday alone, but he hadn’t spent it lonely. He had learned a valuable lesson that day: that even in the face of disappointment, there is always kindness, there is always connection, there is always hope. And that, he realized, was a gift more precious than any he could have received from his children.
Girl’s letter to her future self, written months before she passed away
What most teenagers dream of is to go to college, travel the world, and have many friends. 12-year-old Taylor Smith, of Johnson City, Tennessee, was no different. This girl spent her days around her family and friends and loved watching a lot of Doctor Who.
Smith outlined these plans in a letter she wrote to her future self in April 2013. The letter was placed inside a box in her room with the instruction “To be opened by Taylor Smith on April 12, 2023 only (unless said otherwise).”
Unfortunately, she didn’t live long enough to see whether those dreams would be accomplished. Just months after she wrote that letter, Taylor died of complications from a sudden onset of pneumonia.
Her parents, Tim and Mary Ellen Smith, were heartbroken. They couldn’t believe their girl was forever gone.
One day, as they were sorting through her possessions, they found the letter. As it touched them deeply, they decided to share it online and give others some solace.
As she shared her daughter’s letter, Marry Ellen wrote: “I can’t physically resurrect her, I can’t bring her back, but
I’m so grateful people have been inspired by her story.”
Below is Taylor’s letter and the words she wrote to herself.
Dear Taylor,
How’s life? Life is pretty simple right now (10 years in your past). I know I’m late for you, but as I’m writing, this is early, so; congratulations on graduating high school! If you didn’t, go back and keep trying. Get that degree! Are you (we) in college? If not, I understand. We do have pretty good reasoning, after all.
Don’t forget, it’s Allana’s 11th birthday today! Sheesh, 11 already? In my time, she just turned 1! I didn’t get to go to that party though, because I was in Cranks, Kentucky for my first mission trip. I’ve only been back for 6 days!
Speaking of, how’s your relationship with GOD? Have you prayed, worshipped, read the bible, or gone to serve the lord recently? If not, get up and do so NOW! I don’t care what point in our life we’re in right now, do it! He was mocked, beaten, tortured, and crucified for you! A sinless man, who never did you or any other person any wrong!
Now, have you gone on any more mission trips? Have you been out of the country yet? How about on a plane?
Is Doctor Who still on the air? If not, what regeneration did they end it with? You should go watch some Doctor Who! Later though, you gotta finish reading your own words of wisdom!
Do you have your own place yet? If we’re in college, what are we majoring in? Right now, I wanna be a lawyer.
Have you been to Dollywood recently? Right now, their newest attraction is the Wild Eagle. It’s so fun!
Also I think I’m going to sell my iPad and buy an iPad mini, Don’t forget to tell your kids that we’re older than the tablet! Attached I also have a drawing of an iPad, so you can show them.
Well, I think that’s all. But remember, it’s been 10 years since I wrote this. Stuff has happened, good and bad. That’s just how life works, and you have to go with it.
Sincerely, Taylor Smith
Beautiful words from an angel who was taken away from her family too soon!
If you were touched by Taylor’s words as much as we were, please share this story in her memory.
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