A little orphaned boy cries in church, begging God to send his mother to take him. The next minute, he turns pale when a voice answers from behind, saying, “I’ll take you.”
A string of untold emotions is attached to kids abandoned by their parents. Six-year-old Alan was one such neglected child who yearned to see his mother but never got that chance.
One day, in a serendipitous encounter in church, little Alan’s world shifted. He was crying, begging God to send his mom to him, telling God how different his world would be if his mother were with him.
Amid his loud cries and heartwarming argument with God, a strange voice spoke up from behind, offering to take him…
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
“Dear Jesus, they say you hear everything. My guardians in the foster home told me to knock on your door and ask for everything I needed. I want my mommy. Can you please send her to me?”
“Alan, my boy! I’ve come for you. I’ve come to take you home.”
Alan cried as he folded his hands in prayer and stared at the crucifix. His eyes were painfully red, and his soft, pink cheeks were wet.
“My nanny told me you answer everyone’s prayers. Then why aren’t answering mine?”
The vestibule echoed with Alan’s loud cries. He was heartbroken. He did not want to return to the shelter, where kids often poked fun at him. They constantly taunted him saying his mom would never return and he had no choice but to wait for someone to adopt him.
“Nobody would be interested in taking a crybaby like you home,” were some of the harshest things he heard from fellow kids in the shelter. Alan cried his heart out that day, demanding God for an answer.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
“Alan, shhh!” his guardian, Nancy, interrupted. “It’s a church. Be quiet, and don’t cry. People are watching you. Please calm down.”
Alan tried to control his tears. He kept staring at the crucifix until he saw a woman with a child enter the church. He could no longer hold back his tears and started crying again.
“Jesus, you’re not answering me. Please, I want to be with my mommy like that girl. Nanny, why is Jesus not answering? You told me he answered all our prayers, but why hasn’t he told me anything?”
Nancy stared at the boy and grinned at his innocent questions.
“I’ll take you,” a woman’s voice suddenly said from behind them. “My baby, I’ve come for you. Please stop crying.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
Alan and Nancy were startled. They turned around, and behind them was the woman with the child Alan had seen moments ago.
“Alan, my boy! I’ve come for you. I’ve come to take you home,” she cried.
“Who are you? How do you know the kid’s name?” questioned Nancy, holding Alan tight.
“My name is Annette. I’m Alan’s mother. I come here daily to see him and ensure he’s fine.”
“Your son? Do you have any proof?”
Annette took out a photo of her holding a newborn baby in her arms. “I left him at the shelter’s doorstep six years ago.”
“This is unbelievable. This was how Alan looked when I first picked him up from the doorstep on that rainy night. I heard the loud cries of a baby outside on the patio and found him there. Why did you leave your baby? How can you be such a heartless mother?”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
Annette began to cry and disclosed the most saddening story of her life.
Six years ago, she was 16 and accidentally fell pregnant with her boyfriend’s child. After she revealed this to him, he dumped her and moved to another state, blocking her from contact. Annette’s parents advised her to terminate the pregnancy, but she couldn’t do it.
“My parents gave me only one choice—to abandon my baby or to forget them and the legacy I would inherit. I was too naive and young to become a mother, so I left my newborn baby at the shelter and moved on.”
Annette added that she finished college and married another man. The girl with her, Amy, was her daughter from this marriage.
“I tried my best, but I could not forget my son. I visit this church often to watch him from a distance. But after hearing him crying for his mother today, I could not hold back any longer. I want to take him home with me.”
Soon, Annette began the legal formalities to gain Alan’s custody back. She took DNA tests with him, revealing they were mother and son by a 99 percent match. Although she successfully took Alan home and restored their relationship, it came with a hefty price.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
Annette’s parents turned against her and cut her off from their lives and their will. Even worse, her husband turned against her despite knowing the truth about her shady past.
“I married you because you were honest about your failed relationship with your ex-boyfriend and thought you would never want that kid again. But now, even your parents have disowned you. Look, I’m not willing to father someone else’s child. I’m ready to support my daughter financially, but our marriage is over,” her husband Jason said, immediately filing for a divorce.
Annette and Jason were divorced shortly after. Annette got custody of her daughter and was delighted to have Alan back.
“Never come to us begging for money again” were the last words she heard her parents tell her, and Annette was fine with that. She felt her life was complete, even without her parents’ approval or their money.
She moved abroad with her two wonderful children, got a good job, and only looks forward to living a happy life.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
What can we learn from this story?
- God answers our prayers. Whenever Alan went to church, he would cry and ask God to send his mother to him. One day, his prayers were answered when he heard a voice offering to take him, and it turned out to be his mother.
- Do not abandon your children and punish them for a mistake you have committed. When Annette fell pregnant at 16, her parents told her to abandon the baby. She obeyed them and moved on, unaware of how it would affect her son as he grew up.
A little girl cries in church, asking God to save her sick grandmother’s life. Suddenly, a voice speaks behind her, offering to help. Click here to read the full story.
This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.
I Walked Out of My Own Birthday Dinner in Tears from Humiliation After My Fiancé’s ‘Surprise’
After a tough year, Morgan’s fiancé promised her birthday would be unforgettable. Dressed up and hopeful, she walks into a lavish surprise party. But the night takes a cruel turn when he stands to toast and hands her a demeaning gift.
I wasn’t one for grand celebrations. A cake and a quiet evening would’ve been perfect — especially this year.
A tense woman | Source: Midjourney
Between my struggle adapting to an increased workload after a job promotion, losing my childhood dog, Rufus, and watching Dad’s health slowly decline, I was emotionally drained.
Turning 30 felt like just another thing to get through.
So when Greyson started acting mysterious about my birthday (hiding his phone with a smirk, dropping hints like, “You’re gonna love what I’ve planned. It’s gonna blow your mind”), I dared to hope for something sweet. Maybe even healing.
A couple having a conversation | Source: Midjourney
“Wear something nice,” he told me that night. “Something you’d wear to a fancy rooftop place.”
I took my time getting ready. When I walked into the living room, Greyson looked up from his phone and whistled.
“Perfect,” he said, his eyes moving up and down. “You actually look good when you put in some effort.” He added in what I recognized as his teasing voice, “And you’re gonna need to look stunning for this.”
A man speaking to a woman | Source: Midjourney
My heart fluttered as we drove. He really did something nice, I thought. After months of feeling invisible, I finally mattered enough for him to plan something special.
We pulled up to an elegant restaurant. Jazz played softly as the hostess smiled and led us toward a private room.
The door swung open, and—
“SURPRISE!”
A woman blowing confetti into the air | Source: Pexels
The room exploded with applause from friends and family. A massive cake shaped like stacked books sat on a table (a nod to my job as a librarian). It was perfect!
I turned to Greyson, genuinely moved. He leaned in and cupped my face, speaking to me alone: “See? I always know exactly what you need.”
I nodded and smiled up at him. He did. He really did.
A couple embracing | Source: Pexels
For the first time in months, I let my guard down and allowed myself to enjoy the moment.
Laughter, toasts, candles… and Greyson showing a rare display of affection, his arm draped around my waist as we mingled.
About an hour in, Greyson stood and clinked his glass with a spoon. “Attention everyone! Time for a toast! And then, the main gift for our birthday girl.”
A glass on a table | Source: Pexels
The room quieted. I felt a flush of pleasure as everyone turned to look at us.
“I want to thank everyone for coming tonight,” he started. “As you all know, Morgan’s been through a lot lately; job stress, losing her dog, and, well… turning 30.”
He paused for effect, and laughter bubbled awkwardly through the room.
Guests at a party | Source: Midjourney
“I thought long and hard about what to get you, babe,” he continued, turning to me. “Jewelry? Nah, you’d probably lose it like that bracelet I got you last Christmas. A vacation? Too cliché. So I decided to get you something truly useful.”
He reached under the table and pulled out a gift bag tied with a pink ribbon.
The crowd “oohed” appreciatively. My cheeks hurt from smiling so much.
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
He handed it to me with a flourish. “Go ahead, open it.”
I pulled out the tissue paper, expecting maybe concert tickets or a beautiful journal. Instead, I pulled out… pink rubber gloves.
Then a sponge. Paper towels. And finally, a toilet brush.
My smile froze.
Miscellaneous cleaning supplies | Source: Pexels
“Now you’ve got NO excuse to keep leaving dishes in the sink, babe!” Greyson laughed.
Polite laughter rippled through the room. My cheeks burned, no longer from joy. I forced my smile to stay put.
“Very funny,” I managed.
“Oh, and don’t worry — I did get you a real gift,” Greyson said, as if reading my mind.
A woman looking hopefully at someone | Source: Midjourney
Relief washed over me. Of course. This was just his way of being playful before the real surprise.
He handed me an envelope. Inside was a laminated chore chart with my name on every line: dishes, vacuuming, bathroom, laundry, groceries, meal prep.
“I made this so you don’t forget what your jobs are around the house,” he explained brightly. “Because I definitely won’t.”
A man smiling while speaking | Source: Midjourney
A few strained chuckles sounded from my guests.
“Is this the real gift, or…?” I whispered.
“Oh no, I’m serious,” he shrugged. “Hey, you’re the one who’s always saying you ‘thrive with structure,’ right?” Then, he leaned in close and said under his breath, “Think of it as a home promotion to go with your job promotion last month. Happy Birthday!”
A man staring intently at a woman | Source: Midjourney
I don’t remember the next few minutes clearly.
I know I smiled. Nodded. Thanked him. I remember folding the chart carefully and placing it back in the envelope. I excused myself, saying I needed some air.
I walked out to the parking lot, sat in our car, and cried for 20 minutes.
Cars in a parking lot | Source: Pexels
Just when I was debating whether to return to the party or simply vanish, someone knocked on the car window.
It was Natalie, Greyson’s cousin. I quickly wiped my eyes, but it was too late. She had seen.
She opened the passenger door and slid in beside me. Without a word, she wrapped her arms around me.
A woman getting into a car | Source: Pexels
“That was disgusting,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
I broke down again, the dam finally giving way.
“I don’t understand,” I sobbed. “Why would he do that? In front of everyone? On my birthday?”
Natalie pulled back, her expression troubled. “This wasn’t last-minute, Morgan. He’s been planning this for weeks.”
A woman in a car | Source: Midjourney
“What?”
She nodded grimly. “He called me to help arrange the surprise party three weeks ago. And he said, and I quote, ‘She thinks she’s so perfect. Let’s humble her a little.'”
My world tilted. “What are you talking about?”
“He told Jason that you’ve been getting ‘too full of yourself’ since your promotion. That you needed to be knocked down a peg.”
A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
I felt sick. “But I’ve barely mentioned my promotion. I’ve been so focused on Dad’s health and—”
“I know,” Natalie cut in. “But Greyson… his jokes have always had a mean edge, but he went too far this time.”
“I should go back in,” I said numbly.
A sad woman in a car | Source: Midjourney
“You don’t have to,” Natalie replied. “I’ll tell them you weren’t feeling well.”
“No,” I shook my head. “I… I want to salvage what I can of this night.”
I went home that night shattered, replaying every moment of the evening. Greyson was attentive, asking if I liked my surprise party and if I was excited about my “gifts.” I smiled and nodded, something hollow growing inside me.
People lying on a bed with their feet intertwined | Source: Pexels
The next morning, I quietly packed a weekend bag, removed my engagement ring, and drove to my sister’s house two towns over.
I ignored Greyson’s frantic texts: “Where are you???” “Are you seriously mad about a joke???” “Everyone thought it was funny except you.”
Over the next few days, I replayed the last two years: his subtle jabs disguised as concern, the passive-aggressive jokes, the financial control masked as “being responsible.”
A thoughtful woman | Source: Midjourney
I started documenting everything: screenshots of texts, voice notes I’d saved, comments about chores, my cooking, and how I dressed.
The truth clicked into place: this wasn’t a one-time cruelty, but a painful pattern of emotional abuse. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t seen it before.
Two weeks later, while Greyson was at the gym, I returned to our apartment with Natalie and two friends.
A woman in an apartment | Source: Midjourney
We boxed up my things quickly and efficiently.
But I also left something: his own chore chart, printed and laminated, with each task assigned to “Greyson.”
I stuck a Post-it note on it that read: “No excuse now. You’ve got this, right?”
Then I blocked his number. I thought that was the end of it, but I was wrong.
A woman glancing over her shoulder | Source: Midjourney
A month later, as I was settling into my new routine, I got a DM on Facebook from Margo, Greyson’s ex.
“You probably don’t know me,” it read. “We only met once briefly, but I dated Greyson before you. I saw that your relationship status changed and your ring was gone in your new profile picture. I just wanted to say… I understand.”
We met for coffee.
The interior of a coffee shop | Source: Pexels
Margo told me about how Greyson had pulled the same public shaming trick at her college graduation party three years ago.
“He stood up in front of my entire family and announced that I only got honors because I ‘slept less and kissed up to more professors.’ Everyone laughed uncomfortably. I was humiliated.”
We talked for hours, piecing together the pattern of a man who built himself up by tearing others down.
Then we decided to do something about him.
A smirking woman | Source: Midjourney
Together, we wrote a PSA-style post about humiliation masked as humor, emotional manipulation, and the subtle forms abuse can take.
We didn’t mention names, but we spoke our truths and anyone who knew us could figure out who we were referring to.
The post spread like wildfire.
A woman scrolling on her phone | Source: Pexels
It had 13,000 shares within days. Comments flooded in: “This happened to me too.” “I thought I was alone.” “I’m still trying to find the courage to leave.”
Greyson deleted all his social media within 48 hours. I later heard that he left town to “start over.”
But I wasn’t watching. I was rebuilding.
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
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