Every Day Little Girl Cries before Getting on School Bus until Her Stepdad Follows Her Inside – Story of the Day

A dad gets worried about his stepdaughter crying every day before getting on her school bus, so he bursts into it one day to figure out what’s happening. The reason behind it enrages him, and he immediately takes action against the bus driver.

Candace was still in her mother Lily’s womb when her father abandoned them, claiming he had nothing to do with them. After that, Candace had Lily as her only companion, but things changed when Lily met Derek.

Derek fell in love with Lily and Candace and embraced them. He became a devoted husband and father and loved Candance so much that nobody believed he was the little girl’s stepfather and not her biological dad.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Both Lily and Derek were working parents, so they sent Candace to school by bus every day. Lily left for work early as her office was a little far from their house, and it was Derek’s duty to drop Candace off at her bus stop before heading to work.

One day, Derek was dropping off Candace at her bus stop and noticed she seemed upset. “Honey, are you all right?” he inquired, concerned. “Would you like to discuss something with Daddy?”

Candace remained silent, but her eyes welled up. Derek noticed that and wondered what was wrong. “If there’s anything that’s bothering you, honey,” he continued, “remember that daddy is always here to listen, okay?”

Candace nodded lightly then grabbed her backpack and alighted the bus as it arrived. Derek hoped she would be alright, but she wasn’t.

“Justin!” Derek exclaimed emphatically. “What were you trying to prove by yelling at Candace? For Christ’s sake, she’s a child!”

With time, Derek noticed Candace would cry every day, reluctant to take the bus to school and insisting on driving her. He told Lily about it, but all she said was: “You know how much she loves you, Derek! It’s because she wants your attention all the time! Kids do such things sometimes to get their parents’ attention!”

Believing Lily was right, Derek didn’t give it much thought and sometimes gave into Candace’s request and dropped her off at school. But doing so every day was impossible because he’d have to be in his office on time, and Candace’s school was in the opposite direction of his workplace.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

One morning, Candace began crying again, not wanting to take the bus to school. Derek was really late for a meeting, and he yelled at Candace. “Stop being so fussy, Candace! There are a lot of kids who take that bus every day, but you’re the only one who causes problems!”

Candace lowered her head, sniffing, but her tears didn’t stop. She boarded the bus as soon as it arrived, and Derek felt a pang of guilt now that he had cooled down and understood he shouldn’t have been so angry with her.

“Oh, God! Why did I have to be so mad? I’ll apologize to her when she gets home,” he mumbled as he started walking towards his car. But the bus driver’s words stopped him in his tracks.

“You go and sit at the back, you little girl! I don’t want to see your face! And yeah, you better follow my orders or get the hell out of my bus!” he yelled.

Candace pleaded with him, teary-eyed, that she had motion sickness and needed to sit in the front, but the bus driver wouldn’t budge. “You do what I say, or you’re out!” he yelled.

Derek turned around and saw the bus gate was about to close. He stormed into the bus before the door closed and froze in place when he saw the driver’s face. He would never fail to recognize him.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

He composed himself and forced a smile on his face. “I’m sorry for the trouble, sir,” he told the bus driver. “I just thought I’d drop my daughter off at school myself, so I’m here to pick her up…Come on, honey,” he told Candace. “Let’s go!”

Derek scooped Candance in his arms and got off the bus. Then he dropped a text to his boss, saying he wouldn’t be able to make it to the meeting due to an emergency, and dropped Candace off at school.

After Candace entered the campus, Derek spotted the bus she was supposed to be taking and confronted the bus driver. The children on the bus had already left for their classes by then.

“Justin!” Derek exclaimed emphatically. “What were you trying to prove by yelling at Candace? For Christ’s sake, she’s a child! I didn’t want to cause a ruckus in front of the kids, but this has to stop!”

Justin laughed. “Yo, stepdaddy, why don’t you just drop her off at school on your own if you’re worried about her? I’m tired of seeing her nasty face every day! I was right to leave her and Lily! I wish she had never been born! She’s been getting on my nerves since I started working here!”

“And who the hell do you think you are to yell at her?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Why shouldn’t I?” Justin retorted. “She and her mother are such evil omens! After I dated that stupid Lily, my business began to suffer losses! As if that wasn’t enough, she wanted to impose her child on me! I’m here today because of them, so I will continue ridiculing that child and exacting my revenge! Do you get that?”

“You’re impossible, Justin! Are you even human?” Derek was furious and went straight to the school principal to complain about Justin. Luckily, he’d recorded the whole conversation on his phone and submitted it as proof.

He told the principal that Justin was Candace’s biological father and that he was practically tormenting her, blaming his failed career on her and her mother.

It turns out Justin had only been hired a few weeks ago. His business had gone bankrupt, and he struggled to get a job elsewhere.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Miles,” the principal assured Derek. “I appreciate you bringing this to our attention. We do not tolerate such behavior in our school, and you can be assured that we will take firm measures against him…”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

To Derek and Candace’s relief, Justin was fired from his job, and Candace was no longer terrified to take the bus to school. When Derek shared the whole incident with Lily, she was stunned, feeling horrible for dismissing Candace’s behavior as something childish.

“You have to inform me whenever something is wrong, Candace,” Justin explained one day as they walked to the bus stop. “Daddy is always here for you, so never keep anything from me, okay?”

As they arrived at the bus stop and Candace was about to board the bus, she turned around and smiled at Derek. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, daddy. I was just scared … Thank you, and I love you,” she added as she waved goodbye.

Derek waved back at her and whispered an “I love you” to her. Candace sat in one of the seats in the front and happily went to school. She had no idea Justin was her biological father, but Derek and Lily decided to tell her when she is old enough to comprehend everything.

What can we learn from this story?

  • Parents love their children and protect them from the bad. Although Candace wasn’t Derek’s blood, he loved her like his own and went above and beyond for her. He was a parent in the real sense. Justin, on the other hand, clearly didn’t deserve to be a parent, although he was Candace’s birth father.
  • Children are innocent and pure souls and shouldn’t be dragged into conflicts. Derek was crazy for blaming Candace for his failed job and bullying her. Karma eventually caught up with him, and he was fired.

New Homeowners Demanded That I Remove ‘My Garbage’ From the Garage – a Week Later, They Called Begging Me To Return It

When the entitled Mitchells demanded that I remove some “garbage” from the garage of my late parents’ home, I begrudgingly complied. But a week later, once they realized the true value of those items, they called and begged me to return them. I couldn’t resist the opportunity to teach them a lesson.

I never thought selling my parents’ house would be this complicated. I mean, I had already spent weeks cleaning, organizing, and reliving memories I wasn’t quite ready to part with.

Then I got hit with a ridiculous request from the new owners. When I got the call from my realtor two days after the closing, I knew my work wasn’t done.

A tense woman | Source: Pexels

A tense woman | Source: Pexels

“Joyce, the new owners are complaining about some ‘garbage’ left in the garage,” my realtor, Sarah, said, her voice tense with the stress of mediating between me and the Mitchells.

“Garbage?” I echoed, baffled. I had meticulously cleaned every inch of that place. “What are they talking about?”

“Apparently, they’re saying you left behind a bunch of stuff and they want it gone immediately. They’re threatening to charge you for additional cleaning costs if you don’t take care of it.”

A woman speaking on the phone | Source: Pexels

A woman speaking on the phone | Source: Pexels

I sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Of course they are. Alright, I’ll drive back and sort it out. Can’t have them messing with my credit or anything.”

Balancing life as a widowed single mother of three was tough enough without adding entitled new homeowners into the mix. My kids, Emma, Jake, and Liam, needed me, but so did this situation.

So, I took a day off from work, arranged for a friend to watch the kids, and prepared for the two-hour drive back to my parents’ old house.

Aerial view of a road | Source: Pexels

Aerial view of a road | Source: Pexels

As I drove, I mentally braced myself for what I assumed would be a minor cleanup. The Mitchells had seemed alright during the sale process, but now their true colors were showing.

Rich people’s problems, I thought. Must be nice to have nothing better to do than harass someone over imaginary trash.

When I finally arrived, I unlocked the garage and was hit with a wave of irritation.

“This is the garbage?” I snapped. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

An outraged woman | Source: Pexels

An outraged woman | Source: Pexels

My parents had built this house when they both retired and the so-called “garbage” was spare building materials.

It included valuable items like extra hardwood flooring, custom tiles, expensive light bulbs for the high-end lighting fixtures, and custom paint cans with specific color codes for the house.

There was even the middle section of a custom dining room table that was part of the original design.

Unbelievable.

I rolled up my sleeves and got to work, cursing under my breath.

A woman rolling up her sleeves | Source: Pexels

A woman rolling up her sleeves | Source: Pexels

Hours passed as I carefully loaded everything into my van. The Mitchells had acknowledged these items during the house inspection—had even seemed interested in them. Now, they were nothing but an inconvenience to their grand renovation plans.

Just as I was strapping down the last paint can, Thomas and Shelley arrived. Shelley, with her perfectly coiffed hair and designer sunglasses perched on her head, looked at me with thinly veiled disdain.

“About time you got here,” Thomas said, crossing his arms. “We’ve been waiting all morning.”

A man crossing his arms | Midjourney

A man crossing his arms | Midjourney

“Yeah, well, some of us have actual responsibilities,” I snapped, immediately regretting my tone but too tired to care.

Shelley glanced into the van. “I hope you’re planning to take all of that with you. We don’t need any of your junk cluttering up our space.”

“Junk?” I laughed, a bitter edge to my voice. “This ‘junk’ is worth a lot more than you realize. Extra flooring, custom tiles, specialty light bulbs, and paint with the exact codes for this house. I was doing you a favor by leaving it behind.”

A woman gesturing with one finger | Source: Pexels

A woman gesturing with one finger | Source: Pexels

Thomas scoffed. “We don’t need these old, dusty things. We’ll buy new materials.”

I shook my head, climbing into the driver’s seat. “Well, good luck with that. It’s all yours now. I’m done.”

Driving back, a mix of frustration and satisfaction battled within me. Sure, it was infuriating that the Mitchells didn’t appreciate the value of what I’d left, but at least I’d done the right thing.

Maybe I could sell the stuff and make some extra cash. God knows we could use it.

A woman driving | Source: Pexels

A woman driving | Source: Pexels

A week later, I was back to my usual routine when my phone rang. It was Sarah again. “Joyce, you’re not going to believe this.”

“What now?”

“The Mitchells need those materials back. Turns out they can’t proceed with their renovations without them.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. They’re practically begging for you to return everything.”

“Wow,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “Looks like I’m not the only one with responsibilities, after all.”

A smug woman | Source: Pexels

A smug woman | Source: Pexels

It was almost poetic, the irony of it all. The Mitchells, who had dismissed me so easily, were now at my mercy. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction.

But I also saw an opportunity to teach them a valuable lesson about humility and respect.

I called Thomas later that afternoon. “Hi Thomas, it’s Joyce. Sarah told me you need those materials, after all. I’ve been thinking about your situation, and I believe I can help.”

“Oh, thank God,” he said, relief evident in his voice.

A woman making a phone call | Source: Midjourney

A woman making a phone call | Source: Midjourney

“We really need those items back. What do we need to do?”

“Well,” I began, savoring the moment, “considering the effort and time it took for me to remove everything, plus the inconvenience and the storage costs, I think it’s only fair you compensate me for it. And let’s not forget the actual value of the materials.”

There was a long silence on the other end. “How much are we talking about?” he finally asked, his tone wary.

I named my price, deliberately setting it high.

A smug woman on a phone call | Source: Midjourney

A smug woman on a phone call | Source: Midjourney

“And just so you know,” I added, “I’ve already got interested buyers for the hardwood and other materials. So, if you’re not willing to pay, I can easily sell them.”

“That’s outrageous!” Shelley’s voice cut in, sharp and indignant. “You’re extorting us!”

“I’m merely asking for fair compensation,” I replied calmly. “You called these items ‘garbage’ and demanded their removal. I went out of my way to do that for you, and now you realize their value. I think it’s reasonable to be compensated for my time, effort, and the storage costs.”

A woman speaking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman speaking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

“Let’s be clear,” Thomas interjected, trying to regain control. “We’ll pay, but not that much. It’s absurd!”

I held my ground. “That’s my offer. Take it or leave it. Your renovation plans are at a standstill without these materials, right?”

The silence that followed was deafening. I could almost see them seething on the other end of the line.

“Alright,” Thomas finally said, his voice tight with anger. “We’ll pay your price.”

A woman grinning | Source: Unsplash

A woman grinning | Source: Unsplash

The next day, we arranged to meet at the house. As I unloaded the van, I could see the strain on their faces. This was more than just a financial transaction; it was a humbling experience for them.

Shelley looked particularly sour, but Thomas seemed to be trying to maintain some semblance of dignity.

“I hope you understand now,” I said, handing over the final box of custom tiles, “the importance of respecting people’s time and effort. What you dismissed as garbage turned out to be essential for your plans.”

Custom tiles | Source: Pexels

Custom tiles | Source: Pexels

Thomas nodded, his expression hard to read. “We understand,” he said quietly. “And we apologize for the way we treated you.”

Shelley mumbled something that might have been an apology, though it sounded more like a begrudging acknowledgment. I didn’t press it. I had what I needed—a sense of justice and a sizable compensation.

Driving away, I felt a surge of accomplishment. I had stood my ground and turned a frustrating situation into a positive outcome for my family. The money would go a long way.

A confident woman | Source: Pexels

A confident woman | Source: Pexels

Maybe we’d finally take that vacation we’d been dreaming about, or I could start a college fund for the kids. It marked a new chapter for us, one of empowerment and resilience.

That evening, as I sat around the dinner table with Emma, Jake, and Liam, I felt a profound sense of satisfaction.

“What’s for dinner, Mom?” Jake asked, eyeing the stove.

“Something special,” I said with a smile. “We’re celebrating.”

“Celebrating what?” Emma asked, her curiosity piqued.

A girl smiling | Source: Pexels

A girl smiling | Source: Pexels

“Let’s just say, sometimes standing up for yourself pays off in unexpected ways,” I replied, ruffling her hair. “And I think we’ve earned a little celebration.”

We enjoyed a rare meal out that night, the kids’ faces lighting up as I told them about our potential vacation. They were ecstatic, their excitement infectious.

And as I tucked them into bed later that night, I couldn’t help but feel grateful. Life had thrown us a curveball, but we had hit it out of the park. The Mitchells might have learned a lesson, but so had I. We were stronger, more resilient, and ready to face whatever came next.

A child sleeping | Source: Pexels

A child sleeping | Source: Pexels

Like this story? Read this one next: When Grandma Evelyn catches her daughter-in-law, Jessica, discarding her gifts, she hides her shock and plans a clever lesson. Visiting unannounced, Evelyn endures Jessica’s false affection, setting the stage for a heartwarming and humorous confrontation that teaches the value of family respect.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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