Girl Claims She Sees Late Mom at School Every Day, Dad Shocked Upon Discovering the Truth — Story of the Day

Michael, a single father, was left with his 8-year-old daughter after his wife died in a car accident. He thought he was managing well and that his daughter was coping with her mother’s death. But one day, she approached him and said she saw her mom at school every day.

Michael mourned the loss of his wife, Simone, every day. Just a few months ago, she had died in a car accident, but her body was never found because she had fallen into a river.

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This left Michael alone with his 8-year-old daughter, Hannah. Determined to stay strong for her, Michael moved to another city to escape the painful memories that filled their old town. He knew Hannah had already lost her mother; he couldn’t let her lose him, too.

Hannah slowly adapted to her new school and even seemed happy. Michael, on the other hand, had to learn to be both a father and a mother.

He taught himself how to style Hannah’s hair, woke up early every morning to make her breakfast and pack her lunch, and even learned some ballet moves to practice with her at home.

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Simone had enrolled Hannah in ballet, believing she would be a great ballerina one day. Michael kept that dream alive, and it kept a part of Simone alive in her.

Today, Michael had finished work early and decided to pick up Hannah from school, a rare treat since she usually took the bus. He waited in the car outside the school, excitement bubbling inside him.

Soon, Hannah ran out of the school. Michael honked the horn to get her attention, and she waved cheerfully, sprinting toward the car. She hopped in, throwing her backpack onto the back seat.

“Hi, Dad!” Hannah said with a big smile as she got into the car.

“Hi, sweetheart. How was school today?” Michael asked, starting to drive.

“It was good. Everyone praised me for my math. All the work we did yesterday really helped,” Hannah replied proudly.

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Hannah’s smile faded. “But Mom still ignores me,” she said sadly.

Michael’s heart skipped a beat. He hit the brakes harder than he meant to. “What do you mean, Hannah? Do you talk to her?” he asked, his voice full of worry.

“Yes, every day,” Hannah said. “But she pretends she doesn’t know me.”

Michael sighed and started driving again, feeling a heavy weight on his chest. “Hannah, your mom is in a better place now. It’s far away, and she can’t respond to you. But she hears everything you say and loves you very much.”

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Hannah looked confused. “What do you mean? She’s not far away. She’s at school. I see her every day,” she insisted.

Michael glanced at her, puzzled. “What? I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

Hannah groaned in frustration. “Dad, what’s not to understand? Mom cleans our school every morning when I get there. But when I talk to her, she says she doesn’t know me. I think she’s mad because I want to quit ballet,” she said.

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“You want to quit ballet?” Michael asked, surprised.

Yes. I don’t like it anymore. Mom wanted me to do ballet, but now she doesn’t even talk to me,” Hannah said.

“Hannah, you’re not quitting ballet,” Michael said firmly.

“I will!” Hannah shot back, her voice rising.

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“No!” Michael shouted louder than he intended. Hannah’s eyes widened in fear. He took a deep breath and softened his tone. “I’m sorry, but you’re not quitting ballet. We’re not discussing this.”

“But…” Hannah started to say.

Michael cut her off. “It’s not up for discussion. Now let’s go to school, and you show me your mom.”

“She’s not there now. She only comes in the mornings,” Hannah replied.

“Then tomorrow, I’ll go to school with you, and you can show me,” Michael said, determined to understand what was going on.

“Okay, you’ll see I’m telling the truth. You don’t believe me now,” Hannah said quietly.

Michael sighed, his heart aching for his daughter.

For the rest of the day, Michael couldn’t find peace. His mind kept racing with thoughts of Hannah seeing visions of Simone. He had thought Hannah was coping well with her mother’s death.

She had been calm and cheerful since their move to the new city. But now, it seemed he was wrong.

The next day, Michael took Hannah to school and went inside with her. All morning, Hannah kept repeating that she wasn’t lying and that he would soon see for himself.

“Where is she?” Michael asked as they walked through the school corridors, his eyes scanning the halls.

“I don’t know. We need to find her,” Hannah replied, looking around anxiously.

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They walked further, passing classrooms and offices. Suddenly, Hannah shouted, “There! Mom!” She pointed at a cleaner standing with her back to them. Michael froze, his heart pounding.

From behind, the woman did look like Simone. Hannah ran up to her and gently tugged on her sleeve. Michael approached slowly, his mind racing.

When the woman turned around, Michael realized it wasn’t Simone. The resemblance had been uncanny from behind, but up close, it was clear she was a stranger.

“Oh, you’re not my mom,” Hannah said. She stepped back, her shoulders slumping.

“Unfortunately not, sweetie,” the woman replied kindly, giving Hannah a gentle smile.

After apologizing to the woman, Michael took Hannah’s hand and led her aside. “Hannah, this isn’t your mom. I know it’s hard to lose her, but your mom is in a better place now and is always watching over you,” he said softly.

“I know this isn’t Mom! I’m not blind,” Hannah said, her eyes filling with tears. “But she was here. I swear, I saw her.”

“Okay,” Michael sighed heavily, feeling the weight of her words.For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“You don’t believe me!” Hannah shouted, her voice echoing in the hallway. “Mom always believed me!” She turned and ran away from Michael.“Hannah!” he called after her, but she kept running, her small figure disappearing down the hall.

Michael returned to his car, feeling a deep sense of guilt. He knew Hannah and Simone had a special bond. He realized he could never replace her mother, but he would try his best to be there for his daughter.

Michael took time off work and scheduled an appointment with a psychologist for Hannah that very day after school. He picked her up and explained, “We’re going to see a lady you can talk to about anything. She’s here to help.”

Hannah crossed her arms and frowned, still angry with Michael. “I don’t want to talk to anyone,” she muttered.

“I know you’re upset, but this might help,” Michael said gently as they drove to the psychologist’s office.

When they arrived, the psychologist greeted them warmly. “Hi, Hannah. I’m Dr. Stevens. Would you like to come with me?” she asked with a kind smile.

Hannah glanced at Michael, then reluctantly followed Dr. Stevens.

After an hour, Dr. Stevens came out to talk to Michael. She looked thoughtful and serious.

“How did it go?” Michael asked, his voice filled with concern.

Dr. Stevens smiled reassuringly. “I don’t see any signs of psychological issues. I don’t think she’s lying. Hannah genuinely believes she sees her mother at school.”

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Michael frowned. “But that’s impossible. Her mother is dead.”

“I understand,” Dr. Stevens said, nodding. “But everyone grieves in their own way. Hannah might not be ready to let go of her mother. She could be seeing her in others.”

“What should I do?” Michael asked, feeling lost.

“Support her. Believe her,” Dr. Stevens advised. “She’s not lying to you. This is her reality right now.”

Michael nodded, taking a deep breath. “Okay, thank you.”

He picked up Hannah, and they headed home. On the way, he glanced at her, noticing she seemed a bit calmer, less angry. He hoped this was a step in the right direction.

The next day, Michael took Hannah to school again. As they arrived, her teacher approached his car. “I have some of Hannah’s drawings to show you,” the teacher said.

Michael got out of the car, curious. “Sure, let’s see them,” he replied, following the teacher.

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The teacher handed him a stack of drawings. Michael flipped through them, astonished. “These are amazing. I didn’t know Hannah could draw like this,” he said, feeling a swell of pride.

“She has real talent,” the teacher agreed.

Michael thanked the teacher and continued to look at the drawings as he walked into the hallway. He was so absorbed that he almost didn’t notice what was in front of him.

When he looked up, his heart nearly stopped. Standing there was Simone. Michael felt like he had forgotten how to breathe; his heart raced, and he couldn’t move.

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Just then, Hannah ran out of her classroom, her face lighting up when she saw the woman.

“Mom!” Hannah shouted, running towards the woman who looked exactly like her late mother. She turned to Michael with a triumphant smile. “I told you I was telling the truth.”

Michael stood frozen, his mind reeling. “Uh-huh,” he mumbled, unable to form any other words.

The teacher called Hannah back, and she reluctantly returned to her classroom. Michael, still in shock, slowly approached the woman. “Simone?” he asked, his voice shaking.

The woman looked at him, clearly confused. “Excuse me?” she said.

“Simone, is it really you?” Michael asked again, his heart pounding.

“I’m sorry, sir, but my name is Evelyn,” the woman replied firmly.

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“Sorry, I didn’t hear you,” Evelyn said, still looking puzzled

How is this possible? How did you end up here?” Michael asked.

“Sir, I really don’t understand what you’re talking about. I’ve never seen you before in my life. I think you must be mistaking me for someone else. I need to get back to work,” Evelyn said, turning to leave.

“You have a tattoo on your shoulder!” Michael shouted, desperate. Evelyn stopped in her tracks, frozen. “A chrysanthemum,” he added.

Evelyn turned around slowly, her eyes wide with surprise. “How do you know that?”

“You got it when Hannah was born. Hannah Chrysanthemum, that’s the name of the flower on your shoulder. You joked that even if Hannah grew up and forgot about you, the flower would always be with you,” Michael explained.

“Listen, this is very strange, and it’s scaring me,” she said, her eyes darting around nervously.

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“I also wanted to get that tattoo but was too scared. You were always braver than me,” Michael said.

“How do you know what tattoo I have? Have you been following me? First, that strange girl calls me her mother, and now you. I’m going to go crazy,” Evelyn said, her voice rising with fear.

“Please, let me explain everything. Will you have coffee with me?” Michael asked, his eyes pleading.

“I need to finish my work,” Evelyn replied, still looking wary.

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“I’ll wait for you outside,” Michael said, hoping she would agree.

Michael went outside and leaned against his car, his mind racing. He couldn’t believe this was real. After some time, Simone came out of the school and hesitantly approached him.

“Ready to go?” Michael asked softly.

Simone nodded, and they got into the car, driving to the nearest café. They ordered coffee. Black. Michael smiled, remembering how Simone always hated coffee with sugar or cream.

When their order arrived, Michael took a deep breath. “I need to tell you something. We were married, and we have a daughter named Hannah.”

Simone looked confused but listened intently. “I don’t remember any of that,” she said softly. “Fishermen found me on the riverbank. They let me live with them, but I couldn’t remember anything about my life, not even my name. I chose the name Evelyn, but I don’t know why.”

Michael’s eyes softened. “We wanted to name our next daughter Evelyn,” he explained.

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Simone’s eyes widened. “Really?”

Michael nodded. “Yes. Hannah and I would love for you to come home with us. You don’t have to decide now, but think about it.”Simone looked down at her coffee. “Okay, I’ll come with you. But I still don’t remember anything.”

Michael smiled gently. “That’s alright. We can figure it out together.”Simone had been living with Michael and Hannah for a week. Hannah was very happy and constantly reminded Michael that she had been right.

Simone was also trying to adjust to her new life. Although she still couldn’t remember anything from before, she was trying her best to fit in.

Michael decided they should sleep in separate rooms for now. He wanted Simone to feel comfortable and not pressured.

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Today, after breakfast, Simone was finishing her coffee at the table while Michael washed the dishes. Hannah approached Simone with a serious look on her face.

“Mom, will you be mad at me if I quit ballet?” Hannah asked.

“Why would I be mad at you?” she asked, glancing at Michael, who stopped washing dishes to listen.

“You liked watching me dance. You wanted me to be a ballerina,” Hannah said quietly.

Simone smiled gently. “And what do you want to do?” she asked.

Hannah’s face lit up. “I want to draw!”

“Then you should draw,” Simone said. She turned to Michael. “Do you think we could enroll her in an art school?”

Michael smiled warmly. “Yes, definitely,” he replied.

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“Yay!” Hannah shouted. She hugged Simone tightly, then ran to Michael and hugged him before dashing off to her room.

Simone watched her go, then cautiously approached Michael, holding her coffee cup. “Let me wash this,” she offered.

Michael took the cup from her hands. “It’s okay, I’ll wash it,” he said with a smile. Simone smiled back but didn’t move away. She continued to stand there, watching him.

“Is everything okay?” Michael asked, noticing her hesitation.

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“Yes,” Simone said softly. “I think I remembered something.”

Michael turned to face her. “What did you remember?”

“We were standing by the sea, and a dog ran up to us. It first knocked me over and then knocked down an arch we were standing under,” Simone said.

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Michael laughed. “Yes, that was our wedding. The dog was Toby, my childhood pet. He adored you and couldn’t contain his excitement. That was your favorite story from our wedding.”

Simone smiled. “I think it will still be my favorite story when I remember everything,” she said.

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Michael smiled back, and Simone tentatively hugged him. Michael hugged her back, trying not to splash her with water and soap. He felt warmth and hope flood through him.

Just a few weeks ago, he couldn’t have imagined feeling this happy again. As he held her, he realized how much he had missed this closeness.

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Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.

A Journey Through Time: The History of Kitchen Tools

Have you ever stopped to think how the kitchen tools we rely on every day came to be? Today, let’s take a trip back in time to explore the fascinating history of one such essential appliance: the mixer.

The Early Days of Mixing

Our story begins in the mid-19th century when inventors across the globe were experimenting with ways to make the process of mixing ingredients easier and more efficient. In 1856, Ralph Collier, a tinner from Baltimore, patented the first mixer with rotating parts. Just a year later, E.P. Griffith introduced the whisk, a revolutionary tool for blending ingredients. The Monroe brothers, J.F. and E.P., also made their mark with their hand-turned rotary egg beater, which was granted a patent in the United States in 1859.

These early designs caught the attention of the Dover Stamping Company, who acquired the Monroe Brothers’ patent. The Dover egg beaters became a beloved American brand, known as the “Dover beater.” These beaters were held in such high regard that even a recipe from the Gazette newspaper of Cedar Rapids, IA in February 1929 featured the famous Dover beater in a delightful dessert recipe called “Hur-Mon Bavarian Cream.”

Enter the Electric Era

It wasn’t until 1885 that the first electric mixer made its debut, thanks to the ingenious mind of American inventor Rufus Eastman. However, it was the Hobart Manufacturing Company that truly revolutionized the industry with their large commercial mixers. In 1914, they introduced a groundbreaking new model that forever changed the landscape of mixers.

In the early 20th century, two notable American brands, the Hobart KitchenAid and the Sunbeam Mixmaster, became popular choices among consumers. But despite their popularity, domestic electric mixers were still a rarity in most households until the 1920s when they began to be widely adopted for home use.

The Stand Mixer: A Game Changer

In 1908, Herbert Johnston, an engineer for the Hobart Manufacturing Company, had a eureka moment while observing a baker mix bread dough with a metal spoon. He realized there had to be a better way and set out to create a mechanical counterpart to simplify the process.

By 1915, Johnston’s 20-gallon mixer had become standard equipment in most large bakeries. Just four years later, in 1919, the Hobart Manufacturing Company introduced the Kitchen Aid Food Preparer, which went on to become known as the stand mixer. This revolutionary invention quickly became a staple in kitchens across the country.

From the hand-turned rotary beaters of the 19th century to the introduction of electric motors and the birth of the stand mixer, this essential kitchen tool has come a long way. It has undergone numerous innovations to make our lives easier in the kitchen.

So, the next time you whip up a batch of cookies or blend together a mouthwatering cake batter, take a moment to appreciate the rich history behind your trusty mixer. It’s a testament to human ingenuity and the desire to simplify everyday tasks.

In addition to the mixer, another versatile kitchen tool that has a fascinating history is the meat grinder. Also known as a “meat mincer” in the United Kingdom, this appliance has been used for mincing and mixing raw or cooked meat, fish, vegetables, and more.

The journey of the meat grinder dates back to the nineteenth century when Karl Drais invented the first version of this remarkable tool. Initially, meat grinders were hand-cranked, pushing the meat through a metal plate with small holes, resulting in long, thin strands of flesh.

With advancements in technology and the widespread availability of electricity, manufacturers began creating powered meat grinders. These modern electric grinders enable the seamless and uniform processing of several pounds of beef. Some models even come with attachments that add functionality, such as sausage-making, kibbe, and juicing, which has dramatically expanded the range of applications for meat grinders.

So, the next time you’re mincing meat for a savory dish or experimenting with homemade sausages, remember the journey and ingenuity behind your meat grinder. It’s a testament to how kitchen tools have evolved to make our culinary adventures more accessible and enjoyable.

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