I was doing my usual grocery shopping when I suddenly found a little girl sitting in my cart. She looked up at me with big, scared eyes and whispered, “Don’t give me back, I’m scared.” At that moment, I knew my life was about to change.
My career was steady, and my life was well-organized. I took pride in the independence I had built over the years. Being single didn’t bother me. I enjoyed the freedom and simplicity of my life, without many responsibilities beyond my job and daily routine.
My daily routines, though simple, brought me comfort. After my sister Melissa lost her job, I let her stay with me. She was family, after all. She had a tendency to take control of things, but I hoped she’d get back on her feet soon.
That day started like any other. I went grocery shopping, as I did every week. The simple act of shopping made me feel in control.
Walking through the aisles, I focused on my list. Halfway through, I turned to grab a box of cereal, and when I looked back at my cart, there was… a little girl!
She was sitting in the basket. I blinked, confused.
“Hi! Where’s your mommy?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she whispered, gripping the cart tightly.
I froze, trying to understand what was happening. I looked around, expecting to see a parent nearby, but there was no one.
“What’s your name?” I asked gently, crouching to her level.
“Lily,” she whispered softly.
I looked around again, but the store was full of busy strangers. What should I do? Leave her and wait for someone? But what if no one came?
“Well, Lily,” I said softly, “let’s find someone who can help us, okay?”
I slowly pushed the cart, scanning the aisles for her parents. After 20 minutes, it was clear—no one was coming for her.
Just as I was about to call the police, she looked up at me with tear-filled eyes and whispered, “Don’t give me back, I’m scared.”
Before I knew it, I had taken her home.
Everything felt surreal. Lily, a scared little girl, sat at my kitchen table, eating a sandwich, her eyes following me as if I was her only safety.
The front door opened, and Melissa walked in. I knew this wouldn’t go over well.
“What is this?” she asked, her eyes locking on Lily.
“I found her at the grocery store,” I explained, trying to stay calm.
“Found her?!” Melissa exclaimed. “You can’t just bring home a child! Do you even know where she came from?”
“No, but she was alone,” I replied. “I couldn’t leave her there.”
“You can’t fix everything, Rachel. This is a bad idea.”
“I called James,” I said, mentioning my detective friend. “He’s looking into it. We’ll figure it out.”
Melissa sighed in frustration but muttered nothing else. My focus stayed on Lily.
The next morning, my fears came true. There was a knock at the door. Social services had arrived.
Melissa acted fast, as she always did when worried. I knew I couldn’t keep Lily, no matter how much I wanted to.
“We’ll take her into care,” a social worker said gently.
I looked at Lily, who was clutching the table.
“I… I just need a minute,” I stammered.
I knelt by Lily. “Sweetie, you have to go with them for now. They’re going to help you.”
Her big eyes met mine. “Please, don’t give me back. I’m scared.”
Her words broke my heart, but before I could say more, the social workers took her away.
Suddenly, my phone rang. It was James, his voice serious.
“Rachel, I found something. Her name’s Lily. She’s run away from home before, but they’ve never found anything wrong.”
“Do you have their address? Send it to me, please.”
Later, Melissa began criticizing me again. “This is why I called social services. You’re acting impulsively.”
“A mess? You think this is a mess?” I snapped. “Lily needed help, and I wasn’t going to abandon her. Maybe focus on your own life before judging mine.”
Melissa stayed silent. I grabbed my keys and left, determined to figure things out.
When I arrived at Lily’s house, something felt off. The house was neglected, the yard overgrown. I knocked, and a pale woman opened the door—Lily’s mother, Gloria.
“I’m Rachel. I’ve been caring for Lily,” I explained.
At her daughter’s name, Gloria’s expression filled with sadness. She let me in.
“I know I can’t take care of her anymore,” Gloria admitted, her voice heavy with defeat.
“Gloria,” I said gently, “you love her, but she needs more right now. Let me help.”
Gloria wiped her eyes. “I tried… after her father died.”
“You don’t have to do this alone. I’ll care for her while you get back on your feet. We’ll figure this out together.”
“You’d do that?” she asked.
“Yes. Lily needs to be safe. I’ll take care of her for now, and when you’re ready, she can come back.”
Gloria nodded, and we talked about a plan for her to visit Lily and work toward getting her back.
Just then, social services arrived. Lily ran to her mother, hugging her tightly.
“I’m here, baby,” Gloria whispered. After a few moments, Lily walked back to me.
I spoke with social workers and Gloria about the plan. Lily would stay with me temporarily, and we would reassess Gloria’s situation in a few months.
“It’s time to go, sweetie,” I said, holding Lily’s hand.
Gloria gave her a nod. “Be good, okay?”
From that day on, life changed for both of us. Lily adjusted, and we found comfort in new routines.
One night, she asked, “Will I see Mom again?”
“Yes, sweetie,” I assured her. “When she’s ready. And until then, you’re safe here.”
Through this journey, I learned that love sometimes means knowing when to let go and trust in the future.
Mom Fights Back! DMV Demands She Surrender Her Vanity Plate After 15 Years
A mother of four was shocked when New Hampshire’s DMV told her she had to give up the vanity plates she had for 15 years.
The plates were a playful reminder to her sons to use the bathroom before getting in the car. However, the DMV didn’t see it that way and decided the plates referred to “sexual or excretory acts.”
In 2019, Wendy Auger from Rochester, New Hampshire, was told by the DMV to turn in her vanity license plate after using it for 15 years.
“It would be a real shame if I lose it,” said Wendy, who often gets compliments on her funny plates.
Referencing the state’s motto, “Live free or die,” she added, “If I have to take it off, then I won’t be able to live free.”
Her plates read “PB4WEGO,” reminding her kids to “pee before we go” before getting in the car.
“What parent hasn’t said that to their kids before leaving the house?” she asks. “I’m not one to protest, but this is just ridiculous.”
However, the DMV sent her a letter saying the plates needed to be turned in because they believe the letters refer to “sexual or excretory acts.”
“I’m not a political activist,” she tells CNN. “But this plate isn’t offensive. It’s part of our family and who I am, and there was no reason for them to take it away.”
At the time, Auger had 10 days to return her plate and was allowed to pick another custom plate for free.
After getting the letter, she posted it on Facebook with photos of her plates.
Her post quickly went viral.
One person commented on Auger’s social media page, saying, “This is so ridiculous… It’s funny and cute, and it’s a great reminder!” Another person wrote, “What’s going on?! You’ve had that plate FOREVER.”
A third person suggested, “Maybe it should say Pee or Pay…??? lol”
Responding to those who encouraged her to fight the decision, Auger joked, “Live free or die my arse,” and added, “I might get a plate that says ‘dmv sux,’ but I might get pulled over a lot!”
Her post gained a lot of attention on social media and eventually caught the eye of New Hampshire Governor Chris Sununu. He sent her a message saying: “Hey Wendy, it’s Chris Sununu. Just wanted to let you know we fixed that issue. Sorry for the mix-up and the delay, but common sense won out in the end.”
On August 28, 2019, Auger shared a new Facebook message, announcing her victory.
“This Sassy Momma Has Her Plates!!!,” writes Auger.
What is the funniest license plate you’ve seen? Please let us know what you think and then share this story so we can hear from others!
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