Man Finds a Smashed Phone on the Roadside—When He Inserts the SIM Card Into His Own Phone and Calls ‘Daughter,’ His Heart Stops

They usually say curiosity got the cat, but in my situation, it helped a desperate family find the help they had needed for a long time. My curiosity on the day I found that broken phone also ended up leading to a happy life I never anticipated.

It was a crisp morning when I stepped out of my house, the autumn air cool against my face. My mother, Helen, had already started breakfast, and like every morning, I was on my way to the bakery to pick up fresh rolls for her. Little did I know that this was going to be a very eventful day for both of us.

A man and his mother | Source: Midjourney

A man and his mother | Source: Midjourney

It was my mother’s and my little tradition to have breakfast together—something that made our small world feel stable. You’re probably wondering why a 30-year-old successful man would live with his mother.

See, I never knew my father. He’d abandoned my mother when she told him about her pregnancy. So my mother was as lonely as I was, and to prevent that, we decided to live together.

A man living with his mother | Source: Midjourney

A man living with his mother | Source: Midjourney

What about my romantic life, you ask? Well, I’m not exactly a social butterfly—never have been. My lack of conventional good looks also means that dating has always been a struggle, and I’d long given up trying. Instead, I poured myself into my programming work, spending my days coding and my nights tinkering with gadgets.

That morning, as I strolled down the sidewalk, my sneaker scuffed against something hard. I looked down and saw it—a phone, its screen shattered like a spiderweb, lying in the grass just off the curb.

A broken phone | Source: Midjourney

A broken phone | Source: Midjourney

With my curiosity piqued, I picked it up. The casing was dented, the back partially peeled off, as if it had been run over by a car. It wasn’t a model worth much—an older keypad phone, the kind you only saw in hands that couldn’t afford better.

I turned it over in my hand, seeing an interesting challenge. “Maybe I can fix it,” I murmured.

Slipping it into my pocket, I continued to the bakery, but the phone was on my mind the entire time. It wasn’t just the damage—it was the way it was just lying there, abandoned, as if someone had discarded it in a hurry.

A man at a bakery | Source: Midjourney

A man at a bakery | Source: Midjourney

By the time I arrived back home, I had forgotten about the broken phone tucked into my pocket. My mom and I had the delicious breakfast she prepared before we set about our Saturday. Remembering the broken phone, I pulled out my own and removed its SIM card.

If the old phone was dead, maybe the SIM card inside still worked, I thought. I carefully slid it into my backup phone and powered it on. A list of contacts appeared. Most were hospitals, schools, and emergency services. Only one number was marked as a favorite—”Daughter.”

A man looking at his phone | Source: Midjourney

A man looking at his phone | Source: Midjourney

Something tightened in my chest. Who had lost this phone? And why did it seem like the only person they truly cared about was this “Daughter”? On impulse, I dialed the number. It rang once. Then twice.

A small, excited voice eventually answered. “Mom?!”

My breath caught. “I—no, I’m not your mom. I’m sorry for calling,” I quickly replied, ready to drop the call, but the next thing the little girl said made me pause.

“Where is she?” Her voice wavered slightly.

A worried man on a call | Source: Midjourney

A worried man on a call | Source: Midjourney

“Um, I’m sorry, but I don’t know,” I admitted. “I found a broken phone and used its SIM card. Who are you?” I asked curiously, sensing that something was wrong.

The girl hesitated. “Julie. My mom went to the store yesterday and didn’t come back,” she revealed, her voice cracking with emotion.

A cold feeling spread through me. “Julie, where’s your dad, grandma, or anyone I can speak to?”

“I don’t have a dad,” she said softly. “Or a grandma. Just Mom.”

I swallowed. “Do you know where you live?”

“Independence Street. Building seven, apartment 18.”

A rundown apartment building | Source: Midjourney

A rundown apartment building | Source: Midjourney

My hands gripped the phone tighter. “Okay, Julie, are you okay? Are you alone right now?”

“Yes, I’m okay and alone,” she whispered. “But my legs don’t work. I can’t leave.”

I stood abruptly. “Your legs—what do you mean?”

“I have a wheelchair,” she said simply. “But it’s hard to move with no one around to help me. I’m scared.”

I didn’t hesitate as my protective instincts kicked in. “Julie, listen carefully. My name is Alan, and I’m coming to get you. I’ll be there soon, okay?”

“Okay,” she replied weakly before I dropped the phone.

A little girl on a call | Source: Midjourney

A little girl on a call | Source: Midjourney

My mother, who had been listening, immediately grabbed her coat. “You’re not going alone,” she said firmly. “If there’s a child in trouble, we need to help.”

This wasn’t how I had imagined spending my weekend, but it felt like the right thing to do. Finding that phone when I did was fate. We caught a cab and arrived at the apartment complex in less than fifteen minutes.

It was a run-down building, the kind with flickering hallway lights and mailboxes stuffed with overdue bills.

I held my breath as I knocked on Apartment Eighteen, uncertain of what I’d find.

A man about to knock on a door | Source: Midjourney

A man about to knock on a door | Source: Midjourney

A soft, hesitant voice came through the door. “Who is it?”

“It’s Alan,” I said. “I spoke to you on the phone.”

She replied, “The door’s open. Come in.”

The door creaked when I pushed it open just a few inches. A tiny and frail little girl, no older than six or seven, peered up at me from a wheelchair in the makeshift living room. Her hair was unkempt, her face pale and full of sadness, and she looked at me with tired, wide eyes.

My heart clenched.

A frail sad girl | Source: Midjourney

A frail sad girl | Source: Midjourney

“Will you find my mom?” she asked, her voice trembling, tears in her eyes.

At that moment, I understood that the journey ahead would uncover truths I wasn’t ready to face, but it was too late to turn back now.

So I knelt in front of her and said, “We will, I promise. But first, let’s make sure you’re okay. Do you have food?”

She shook her head. “I ate a sandwich yesterday. That was the last one.”

“I’ll go find something in a bit,” I comforted her.

Taking a breath of resignation, I asked, “Julie, what’s your mom’s name?”

“Victoria,” she said softly. “She never leaves me alone this long.”

That only made my anxiety worse.

A anxious man | Source: Midjourney

A anxious man | Source: Midjourney

“She is the best mom ever and usually returns when she goes out to run errands, but this time, she didn’t. I tried calling her, but her number didn’t go through. None of the neighbors would come to check on me because people here keep to themselves,” the little girl confessed.

My heart ached, and my mind raced. I realized that this wasn’t a simple case. Something was terribly wrong. Julie’s mother had gone missing, and now she was alone, in a wheelchair, unable to move properly, with no one to rely on.

A sad little girl in a wheelchair | Source: Midjourney

A sad little girl in a wheelchair | Source: Midjourney

But we were here now, so I said, “I’m going to look for food. My mom, Helen, will stay here with you, okay?”

“Okay,” Julie replied.

When I returned, my mother quickly prepared food for the little girl, who scarfed it down hungrily as we sat together. I knew we couldn’t waste time. We needed to find Victoria as soon as possible.

Whipping out my phone, I searched online, checking news reports, and my stomach dropped when I found it: a woman had been hit by a Ford yesterday on Parkova Street. She was in critical condition at a local hospital.

A woman in a hospital | Source: Midjourney

A woman in a hospital | Source: Midjourney

I called immediately but had to ring more than once to get through the busy line.

“Yes,” the nurse who answered confirmed after I explained who I was and that I was with Victoria’s worried daughter. “She was admitted yesterday. She’s stable now but unconscious. We couldn’t reach any family.”

My chest tightened. “I’m coming,” I said without bothering to wait for a response.

My mother and I decided it would be best if we dropped Julie off at our apartment while we went to confirm whether the patient at the hospital was really her mother.

A nice apartment building | Source: Midjourney

A nice apartment building | Source: Midjourney

We had to reassure Julie that she was safe with our friendly neighbor, Maureen, who gladly offered to watch her in our absence.

When Helen and I got to the hospital, I explained everything to the staff. The nurse hesitated but eventually said, “She just regained consciousness. She’s very weak, and her condition is still quite serious, but I’ll try talking to her about everything. Maybe she’ll want to see you.”

When the nurse returned, she had a hopeful smile. “She’s willing to see you, but please don’t take too long. She needs her rest.”

A happy nurse | Source: Midjourney

A happy nurse | Source: Midjourney

We entered her room cautiously. Victoria was pale, her face bruised. Her eyes fluttered open when I stepped closer.

“Who…?” she rasped.

“My name is Alan, and this is my mother, Helen,” I said gently. “I found your phone, and I spoke to Julie. She’s waiting for you.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “Julie… is she okay?!”

I nodded. “She’s scared, but she’s alright. She’s been waiting for you to come home.”

Victoria turned away, guilt written all over her face. “I never wanted this.”

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

I pulled up a chair. “Victoria, what happened?”

She swallowed. “I was hit on my way to get medicine for Julie. She has a condition… I’ve been trying to save up for surgery, but it’s impossible. I have no family. I was adopted as a child—no relatives, no safety net. I’m an orphan. It’s just been me and Julie for as long as I can remember.”

My heart ached for her.

“We weren’t supposed to be in this situation. After I divorced Julie’s abusive father, I was left with nothing, and I’ve been struggling ever since. My ex-husband and his family won’t help me, and I didn’t know who else to turn to.”

A mean-looking man | Source: Midjourney

A mean-looking man | Source: Midjourney

She continued, her voice shaking. “I never wanted Julie to feel abandoned, but I was too scared to reach out for help. I thought if I kept quiet about our situation, maybe no one would find out how I’d failed as a parent.”

“I couldn’t afford a car, so I walked everywhere. Last night, I was hurrying home when the accident happened. I was so scared when I came to, not for myself, but because I knew Julie was alone,” she revealed.

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

I exhaled, gripping the arms of my chair. “You’re not alone anymore.”

Her gaze lifted, wary but hopeful.

I made a decision right then. “I’ll help you. Julie deserves a chance.”

I reached out to some contacts, and with the help of donations and a specialist, we arranged for Julie to have surgery. It was a long process, but one that changed everything.

A little girl ready for surgery | Source: Midjourney

A little girl ready for surgery | Source: Midjourney

Months later, I watched as Julie took her first steps. It was shaky, and she clung to my hand, but she was walking! Victoria, who had fully recovered, stood beside me, tears streaming down her face. She turned to me, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“You don’t have to,” I said.

A man and woman talking | Source: Midjourney

A man and woman talking | Source: Midjourney

We became something more than just strangers who had crossed paths. Over time, Julie and I grew close, and my bond with her mother deepened because of the love we had for her. Eventually, our relationship turned into something deeper.

I never expected to have a family, but now, standing beside the woman I’d fallen in love with and married, and the little girl whom I had saved and adopted, I realized I had found one.

And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

A happy family | Source: Midjourney

A happy family | Source: Midjourney

Here’s another story to keep you entertained. When Charlotte’s fiancé failed to arrive on their wedding day, her world shattered into a million pieces. Finding strength in her friends and family, she made the most of the occasion and found something unexpected.

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.

Do You Recognize this Vintage Kitchen Tool?

The advancement of culinary arts has made a number of incredibly useful kitchen tools and gadgets available to the general public. On the other hand, antique kitchenware has a very endearing and reassuring quality. Some, like the retro meatball maker, may not even be recognizable after undergoing numerous design changes.

Though frequently linked to Italian cooking, it’s thought that Rome is where the first meatballs were created. Long ago, in addition to the more well-known Sweden, there were also versions in ancient China, Turkey, and Persia.

Some had different proportions of meat and rice or meat and lentils, while others had different ingredients. Meatballs can be a meal on their own or added to pasta dishes, soups, salads, and sandwiches.

Meatball Maker

Meatballs are a very simple and versatile staple dish. As a result, it is easy to understand why they have a prominent place in cuisine around the globe. It is challenging to precisely and consistently size and shape them by hand each time. Therefore, the meatball maker is a handy kitchen appliance that has long been in demand.

First off, a meatball maker is a useful tool for consistency, as was already mentioned. not only guarantees even cooking but also enhances the dish’s overall appearance. Secondly, kids will love using the meatball maker, especially the classic style. Finally, families can be surprisingly adaptable, giving them an additional reason to spend more time together.

Although the meatball maker’s primary function was to shape meatballs, it can also be used to create flawless falafel or hush puppies. In the meantime, the more contemporary designs of today make it possible to do things like make the ideal cake pop or cookie dough scoop.

Meatball Maker

You can find antique or vintage meatball makers at thrift stores and antique stores. As an alternative, you can find a variety of contemporary meatball makers online or in kitchen supply stores. Certain pieces bear a striking resemblance to those timeless and endearing vintage pieces, even though their shapes and functions differ greatly.

The meatball master, for instance, is a meatball shaper that can hold 32 identically sized and perfectly formed meatballs at once. The meatballs can be kept on this plastic tray until you’re ready to cook them. However, as one person astutely pointed out, “the amount of time it takes makes it easier to do by hand,” so their kids use it for play-dough.

This meatball maker is a well-liked kitchen appliance for people who have big families or frequently host guests.Similarly, the ‘Mind Reader Magic Meatball Maker‘ makes 16 perfectly round meatballs and stores them in a plastic container until it’s time to cook the perfect, mouthwatering bite size meatball, cake pop, or dumpling.

Resembling Vintage Designs

The typical “Meat Baller” is another well-liked meatball maker. There are finger slots that have an old-fashioned look or resemble scissors. It is actually comparable to the previous version in nearly every aspect. Today’s model, on the other hand, has polished stainless steel that is “non-stick,” non-slip padded handles, and produces a flawlessly presented ball of food.

The Spring Chef Cookie Scoop is an additional choice with a somewhat different design; while it’s not intended to be a meatball maker, it can still be used for that purpose and has a cute appearance. It can be squeezed together to resemble a pair of locked pliers and has a silicone-padded handle.

In contrast, the LEEFONE Meatball scoop lacks padded handles, making it closely resemble the vintage model. On the other hand, it is composed of polished stainless steel noonstick.

A useful and adaptable kitchen tool, meatball makers are used to make the ideal meatballs, which are a staple of many ancient recipes. The meatballs are surprisingly versatile, making them an excellent bite-sized appetizer for dinner parties or a great complement to a variety of dishes, such as pasta and soups. Both the chef and the diner will undoubtedly have a better experience with the meatball maker.

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