At 75, my life was mostly quiet, filled with memories of the past. Each day felt long, with nothing much happening. I spent a lot of time thinking about my daughter, Gianna, who had passed away three years earlier. Not a single day went by without her crossing my mind.
One afternoon, while walking along my usual route, I noticed a young woman sitting by the roadside. She was holding a baby in her arms, looking lost and desperate. Something about her reminded me of Gianna, and I couldn’t just walk past her.
My son, Sebastian, lived in another city. He was busy with work and his family. He called sometimes, but visits were rare. I missed him, but I understood. Life pulls us all in different ways.
My days were quiet. I shopped for groceries and went to my weekly book club meetings.
One afternoon, after getting groceries, I saw a young woman sitting by the road, holding a baby wrapped in a thin blanket. She looked tired and sad, but something about her caught my eye.
Maybe it was her eyes, full of exhaustion, or the way she held the baby so protectively. She reminded me of my daughter, Gianna.
I couldn’t just walk past her.
“Do you need help, dear?” I asked softly as I approached.
She looked up, startled. “I don’t want to be a burden,” she whispered, her voice trembling.
“Nonsense,” I said. “You and the baby need warmth. Come with me.”
She hesitated, then nodded. “Thank you,” she whispered.
We walked back to my house in silence. The baby stirred in her arms, and she held him tighter. I brought them inside, offered her a seat, and warmed some tea. The house had felt cold for so long, but now it seemed alive.
“What’s your name, dear?” I asked, handing her the tea.
“Julia,” she replied softly. “And this is Adam.”
I smiled at the baby, who blinked at me with curious eyes. “He’s a handsome boy,” I said, trying to make her feel comfortable.
“Thank you,” Julia said, a small smile forming. “He’s all I have.”
In the days that followed, Julia stayed with me. She got a job at a local store, and I cared for Adam while she worked. He brought joy to the house, his little giggles filling the rooms with life. It felt as though everything had changed.
“Thank you for letting us stay here,” Julia said one evening after putting Adam to bed. She sat across from me, holding a cup of tea.
“It’s been good for me,” I replied. “The house was too quiet before you came.”
“I don’t know what we would’ve done without you,” she said, her eyes full of gratitude.
As weeks passed, we grew closer. Julia shared more about her past, including her five-year-old daughter, Aurora, who was in a hospital.
“She’s… not well,” Julia whispered. “But we don’t talk about it much.” There was sadness in her eyes, but I didn’t push her to say more.
Then one afternoon, everything changed.
I came home early from my book club. The house was too quiet. Julia was supposed to be at work, and Adam was with me, so I didn’t expect anything unusual. But when I walked into my bedroom, I froze.
Julia was standing by my dresser, pulling open the drawers. My jewelry, loose bills, even my mother’s old brooch were scattered on the floor.
“Julia?” I gasped, my heart sinking.
She turned, her face pale, tears instantly filling her eyes. “I can explain,” she stammered, dropping everything in her hands.
“Why?” I whispered, unable to believe what I was seeing.
“I didn’t mean to steal,” Julia cried, shaking. “I just… I didn’t know what else to do. Aurora’s surgery… I can’t afford it, and I can’t lose her. I’ve already lost so much.
Her words hung in the air. Despite my anger, I felt my heart soften. I understood her fear. The thought of her losing her child, like I lost mine, was unbearable.
I knelt beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Julia, I know you’re scared. You should have told me. I could’ve helped.”
She looked up, full of remorse. “I was ashamed. You’ve done so much for me already, and I didn’t want to ask for more.”
“We’ll figure this out together,” I said softly. “You don’t have to do this alone.”
Julia wiped her tears, eyes wide with disbelief. “You’re… not angry?”
“I am,” I admitted. “But I understand why you did it. And I forgive you.”
She stared at me, then threw her arms around me, crying into my shoulder. “Thank you… thank you so much.”
That night, I lay in bed thinking. I couldn’t let Julia face this alone. Aurora needed surgery, and if we worked together, we could make it happen. The next morning, I woke determined. I was going to help.
I hadn’t been involved in the community for years, but in my younger days, I had organized events. I started calling people—old friends, former students, and neighbors.
Word spread quickly. People remembered me from my teaching days, and when I explained Julia’s situation, they wanted to help.
“I’ve got things to donate for an auction,” said Maria, a former student. “We can hold it at the community center.”
“I’ll bake pies for the fundraiser,” said Mrs. Ellison from down the street. “People love my apple pies.”
“We could put on a play,” suggested David, an old friend from the local theater. “Sell tickets to raise money.”
On the day of the fundraiser, the community center was full of people. I watched in awe as everyone came together to help Julia and Aurora. The auction went well, with people bidding generously.
The bake sale was a hit, too—Mrs. Ellison’s pies sold out in no time.
When the play started, I saw Julia sitting in the front row, tears of gratitude in her eyes. She glanced at me, mouthing, “Thank you.”
I smiled, feeling proud. This was more than just raising money—it brought the community together. We raised every penny needed for Aurora’s surgery.
The day of the surgery was tense. I sat with Julia in the hospital, holding her hand. “She’ll be okay,” I whispered, more for myself than her. I thought of Gianna, of all the nights I’d spent at her bedside. I squeezed Julia’s hand tighter.
Hours passed, and finally, the doctor came out with a smile. “The surgery was a success. Aurora’s going to be fine.”
Julia collapsed into my arms, sobbing with relief. “Thank you… I don’t know how to ever repay you.”
“You don’t need to repay me,” I said, brushing her hair back. “You’ve already given me so much. You’ve brought life back into my home.”
After the surgery, Julia and the kids came back to my house. It wasn’t quiet anymore. Adam’s laughter echoed through the halls, and Aurora’s sweet voice filled the air. Toys were scattered everywhere, and the once-empty house was now full of life and love.
One evening, as we sat at dinner, I looked at Julia, Aurora, and Adam, feeling something I hadn’t felt in years—contentment.
“Stay,” I said suddenly. Julia looked at me, surprised. “Stay here. You and the kids. This house needs noise. It needs life. You’re like family now.”
Julia’s eyes filled with tears. “Are you sure?”
“I’ve never been more sure.”
And just like that, the house wasn’t empty anymore. It was full of laughter, love, and the warmth of a new family, bound not by blood, but by something stronger.
In 1965, Paul Harvey’s warning was broadcast: Today, it’s sadly come true
Paul Harvey, the news commentator and talk-radio pioneer whose staccato style made him one of the United States’ most familiar voices, reached more than 24 million listeners at the peak of his career.
Although he was very accurate on everything he had to say, no one could imagine that his famous words from 54 years ago would become the reality of today.
I read this today and thought how relevant it is.
The speech was broadcast by legendary ABC Radio commentator Paul Harvey on April 3, 1965.
He starts his ‘prophesy’ by saying: If I were the Devil… and then continues discussing issues that are these days ours to face.
EVERYBODY should listen to this. Sad to say but Paul Harvey was spot on 54 years ago.
”If I Were the Devil If I were the Prince of Darkness I would want to engulf the whole earth in darkness.
I’d have a third of its real estate and four-fifths of its population, but I would not be happy until I had seized the ripest apple on the tree.
So I should set about however necessary, to take over the United States.
I would begin with a campaign of whispers.
With the wisdom of a serpent, I would whispers to you as I whispered to Eve, “Do as you please.”
To the young I would whisper “The Bible is a myth.” I would convince them that “man created God,” instead of the other way around. I would confide that “what is bad is good and what is good is square.”
In the ears of the young married I would whisper that work is debasing, that cocktail parties are good for you. I would caution them not to be “extreme” in religion, in patriotism, in moral conduct.
And the old I would teach to pray — to say after me — “Our father which are in Washington.”
Then I’d get organized.
I’d educate authors in how to make lurid literature exciting so that anything else would appear dull, uninteresting.
I’d threaten TV with dirtier movies, and vice-versa.
I’d infiltrate unions and urge more loafing, less work. Idle hands usually work for me.
I’d peddle narcotics to whom I could, I’d sell alcohol to ladies and gentlemen of distinction, I’d tranquilize the rest with pills.
If I were the Devil, I would encourage schools to refine young intellects, but neglect to discipline emotions; let those run wild.
I’d designate an atheist to front for me before the highest courts and I’d get preachers to say, “She’s right.”
With flattery and promises of power I would get the courts to vote against God and in favor of pornography.
Thus I would evict God from the courthouse, then from the schoolhouse, then from the Houses of Congress.
Then in his own churches I’d substitute psychology for religion and deify science.
If I were Satan I’d make the symbol of Easter an egg
And the symbol of Christmas a bottle.
If I were the Devil I’d take from those who have and give to those who wanted until I had killed the incentive of the ambitious. Then my police state would force everybody back to work.
Then I would separate families, putting children in uniform, women in coal mines and objectors in slave-labor camps.
If I were Satan I’d just keep doing what I’m doing and the whole world go to hell as sure as the Devil”
I use to listen to Paul Harvey with my mom in the 70s. He is very accurate on everything he says. All the things he mentioned 54 years ago are exactly what’s going on NOW!
Incredible man, Incredible insight. Share this if you agree.
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