A young woman’s impulse to help a grieving little girl ended up turning her life around and bringing her happiness.
How many of us can claim that destiny came knocking on our door? Yet that is what happened to Anna Uriel. In Anna’s case, destiny took the shape of a little girl with big brown eyes, her hair in a braid.
Anna answered the doorbell and found herself staring down at a little girl no more than six years old in a pretty gingham dress. “Hi sweetheart,” she said gently. “I think you have the wrong house.”
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The girl shook her head. “No, this is my mommy’s house. Please can you call her?”
“I’m sorry, hun,” Anna said. “I’m the only person who lives here.”
The child started crying. “Please, please! I need my mommy!”
“Hun, where is you daddy?” asked Anna.
“He’s at home. He says mommy’s gone forever, but I know it isn’t true. She’s here!” the girl sobbed.
Anna crouched down and looked the little girl in the eye. “Sweetie, I promise you your mommy’s not here. How about I give you some warm milk and cookies and I take you home to your daddy?”
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The girl looked up at Anna sadly. “Okay,” she whispered.
Anna turned to lead the girl into the house, but when she looked around again she was gone. Had it all been a dream? Anna walked next door and knocked on Mrs. Freman’s door.
She told Mrs. Freman about the mysterious little girl. “She vanished so quickly I almost felt it had all been a dream!” Anna concluded.
Mrs. Freman poured Anna some tea. “Your house used to belong to a little family. They had a little girl. Nice people. But the mother became very ill and after she passed away her husband sold the house. That must be the child.”
“Poor thing!” Anna sighed. “To lose her mother so young!”
“I can’t remember their name…” Mrs. Freman said. “It’s my memory…But the little girl… Her name was Cassie!”
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“Cassie,” Anna said. “If she comes back, I’ll call the police, take her home. She’s much too young to be wandering the streets alone.” But Cassie didn’t come back and Anna’s life continued as planned.
Anna had always believed in making plans. She’d planned to marry at 25 and to become a mother at 28, but for four years she and her husband had tried to conceive, and still there was no baby.
After a lot of painful treatments, Anna became pregnant, but sadly, she lost her baby when he was only a month old. The doctors told her her chances of having another were slim to none.
Her husband told her quite frankly that being childless was not in his plans, and he didn’t want to adopt. He walked out and left Anna devastated and alone with her shattered dreams.
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So Anna could understand Cassie’s pain, the empty place in her life and in her arms where her baby should be. Anna knew how hard it is to let go. She hoped Cassie would come back, but months went by without a visit.
Then one winter evening, there was a knock on her door. There in the doorway stood Cassie huddled in a winter coat, tears freezing on her little cheeks. “Please, lady, I really need my mommy. Daddy’s on the floor and I can’t wake him up. Please, please call my mommy!”
Anna was horrified. She grabbed her coat and her purse. “Honey, Cassie, right? Can you show me where your daddy is?”
Destiny can bring happiness to our door when we least expect it.
The child smiled radially up at Anna. “I knew you’d remember me, mommy! Come!” and she tugged urgently on Anna’s hand and led her to an apartment building three blocks away.
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Anna found the front door open, and lying in the middle of a squalid room was an unconscious man. She tried to shake him awake. He stank of alcohol! She dragged him off the floor and onto the couch and walked into the kitchen. It was a disgrace.
Anna set a pot of coffee brewing and started to clean up. Cassie followed her. “Mommy, are you going to make cookies? I’ve missed your cookies!”
“Cassie, I’m not your mommy, but I’ll make you some cookies,” Anna told the little girl. Over the next hour, Anna restored some much-needed order to the apartment and popped a tray of cookies into the oven.
Soon the delicious aroma of cookies and coffee filled the house. Anna filled a mug with coffee and went back to the man. She shook him. “Wake up!” she ordered, “Your daughter needs you!”
The man opened swollen eyes and for a moment his face reflected a dawning hope. “Bess?” he whispered.
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“I’m Anna, and your daughter came knocking on my door looking for her mother.” Anna’s voice was harsh. “She needs her father, so sober up and pull yourself together!”
The man struggled up off the couch. “I don’t need you or your help! Get out”
“I’m not here for you, you fool. I’m here for Cassie.” Anna snapped. “And remember, while you were here wallowing in self-pity she was knocking on a stranger’s door.”
Anna kissed Cassie goodbye and walked out. She never imagined she’d see Cassie or her awful dad ever again, but a week later, there was a knock on her door. A tall handsome man was standing there.
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“Hi,” he said nervously. “I wanted to thank you and to apologize…”
“I’m sorry,” Anna said bewildered. “Who are you?”
The man blushed. “I’m Jeffrey, Cassie’s dad. I wanted to thank you for what you did for Cassie — and for me. I was so lost in my grief I didn’t realize what Cassie was going through.”
Anna smiled. “It’s okay, I know how hard it is to pull through those dark days.”
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Jeffrey looked into Anna’s sad eyes. “You lost someone too?”
“My son,” Anna whispered, tears in her eyes. “After he died, my husband left…”
From then on, Anna started visiting Cassie and Jeffrey and the three of them helped each other through their grief. One day, Anna and Jeffrey discovered they were in love — Cassie already knew — and they got married.
Two years later, Anna was blessed by an unexpected miracle. She discovered she was pregnant and she and Jeffrey welcomed a beautiful, healthy baby boy. Cassie became the proudest big sister in the world.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
What can we learn from this story?
- Destiny can bring happiness to our door when we least expect it. Anna was sad and lonely until Cassie knocked on her door looking for her mother.
- Sometimes a wake-up call can turn a life around. Anna’s visit showed Jeffrey he had to stop grieving and focus on his daughter.
Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.
If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a young widower who refused to allow his dead wife’s family to have contact with her daughter.
My Husband Tried to ‘Fix’ Me with a New Schedule—My Epic Response Left Him Speechless
I was shocked when my husband, Jake, handed me a schedule to help me “become a better wife.” But instead of losing my temper, I decided to play along. Little did Jake know, I was about to teach him a lesson that would make him rethink his new idea of marriage.
I’ve always been the calm and reasonable one in our relationship. Jake, on the other hand, can easily get caught up in new trends or ideas, whether it’s a hobby or a YouTube video that claims to change his life in just a few easy steps.
Jake and I were fine until he met Steve. Steve was the type of guy who thought being loud made him right. He’d talk over anyone who tried to correct him. He was also always single (no surprise there), but that didn’t stop him from giving relationship advice to all his married friends, including Jake. Jake, who should’ve known better, was impressed by Steve’s confidence.
I didn’t worry about it much at first, but then Jake started saying things like, “Steve says marriages work best when the wife handles the household,” or “Steve thinks women should always look good for their husbands, no matter how long they’ve been married.” I’d roll my eyes and make sarcastic comments, but it was bothering me. Jake was changing. He’d raise an eyebrow if I ordered takeout instead of cooking, and he’d sigh if I let the laundry pile up—forgetting that I also had a full-time job.
Then one night, it happened. Jake came home with The List.
He sat me down, unfolded a piece of paper, and slid it across the table. “I’ve been thinking,” he began, sounding condescending in a way I’d never heard before. “You’re a great wife, Lisa, but there’s room for improvement.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Oh really?”
He nodded, not realizing he was walking into dangerous territory. “Yeah, Steve helped me realize that our marriage could be even better if you, you know, stepped up a bit.”
I looked at the paper in front of me. It was a schedule, titled “Lisa’s Weekly Routine for Becoming a Better Wife.” Jake had actually written out a plan for me based on what Steve—a single guy with no relationship experience—thought I should do to “improve” as a wife.
I was supposed to wake up at 5 a.m. every day to make Jake a gourmet breakfast, then go to the gym to “stay in shape.” After that? Cleaning, laundry, ironing—all before heading to work. Every evening, I was to cook dinner from scratch and make snacks for Jake and his friends when they came over. It was sexist and insulting on so many levels, I didn’t know where to start. I just stared at Jake, wondering if he had lost his mind.
“This will be great for you, and us,” he continued, unaware.
“Steve says it’s important to have structure, and I think you could benefit from—”
“Benefit from what?” I interrupted, keeping my voice calm. Jake blinked, surprised, but quickly recovered.
“Well, from having some guidance and a schedule.”
I wanted to throw the paper in his face, but instead, I surprised myself—I smiled.
“You’re right, Jake,” I said sweetly. “I’m lucky you made me this schedule. I’ll start tomorrow.”
He looked relieved, and I almost felt sorry for him as I stuck the list on the fridge. Almost. He had no idea what was coming.
The next day, I looked at the ridiculous schedule and smiled. If Jake thought he could hand me a list of “improvements,” he was about to learn a lesson. I opened my laptop and started a new document titled, “Jake’s Plan for Becoming the Best Husband Ever.” If he wanted perfection from me, there was a cost.
I started by listing all the things he’d suggested for me, beginning with the gym. “$1,200 for a personal trainer,” I typed, barely holding back a laugh.
Next was the food. If Jake wanted gourmet meals, that wasn’t happening with our current grocery budget. Organic, non-GMO, free-range everything? That wasn’t cheap. “$700 per month for groceries,” I wrote. And if he wanted fancy meals, he’d need cooking lessons too—those were expensive.
I leaned back, laughing as I imagined his face when he saw this. But I wasn’t done. The best part was yet to come.
There was no way I could manage all these demands and keep my job. If Jake wanted me to follow his absurd schedule full-time, he’d have to cover my lost income. I calculated my salary and added it to the list. “$75,000 per year to replace Lisa’s salary since she will now be your full-time maid, chef, and personal assistant.”
By now, I was laughing so hard my stomach hurt.
And just for fun, I added a note about expanding the house. If Jake was going to have friends over all the time, they’d need a separate space. “$50,000 to build a man cave so Jake and his friends don’t disrupt Lisa’s new routine.”
I printed out the list, set it on the kitchen counter, and waited for Jake to come home. When he arrived, he was in a good mood.
“Hey, babe,” he called, spotting the paper. “What’s this?”
Keeping a straight face, I said, “Oh, just a little list to help you become the best husband ever.”
He chuckled, thinking I was playing along, but as he read the list, his smile faded. “$1,200 for a trainer? $700 a month for groceries? What the hell, Lisa?”
I crossed my arms. “Well, you want me to follow your plan, right? I figured we should budget for it.”
His face turned pale as he flipped through the pages. “$75,000 a year? You’re quitting your job?”
“How else can I follow your plan?” I asked. “I can’t work and be the perfect wife, right?”
Jake looked stunned. The numbers and the absurdity of his demands hit him all at once. His smugness disappeared, replaced by the realization that he had messed up.
“I didn’t mean for it to be like this,” he stammered. “I just thought—”
“You thought you could ‘fix’ me like a project?” I said, my voice calm but firm. “Jake, marriage is about respect. And if you ever try to ‘fix’ me like this again, it’ll cost you a lot more than what’s on that paper.”
There was a long silence. Jake sighed and looked at me, defeated.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t realize how ridiculous it was. Steve made it sound reasonable, but now I see… it’s toxic. I’ve been such a fool.”
I nodded. “Yes, you have. And honestly, Steve has no idea what he’s talking about. Why would you listen to him?”
Jake’s face softened as the truth hit him. “You’re right. He has no clue.”
We tore up both lists, and for the first time in weeks, I felt like we were back on the same team. It was a reminder that marriage isn’t about being perfect—it’s about being better together.
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