The music I played on my piano was my last link to my late husband. But cruel neighbors shattered that joy with a hurtful message on my wall. When my granddaughter found out, she made things right, leaving those entitled neighbors scratching their heads.
“Oh, Jerry, did you love it today, darling?” I asked softly, the last notes of “Clair de Lune” filling my cozy living room as my fingers lifted from the ivory piano keys. My eyes fixed on the framed photo of my late husband, Jerry. His kind eyes seemed to twinkle back at me, just as they had for over fifty years of our marriage…
Willie, my tabby cat, stretched lazily near my feet, purring contentedly. I reached down to scratch behind his ears, feeling the familiar ache in my chest as I carefully lifted Jerry’s photo.
“I miss you so much, darling. It’s been five years, but sometimes… sometimes it feels like yesterday.”
Pressing a gentle kiss to the cool glass, I whispered, “Time for dinner, my love. I’ll play your favorite before bed, okay? ‘Moon River,’ just like always.”
As I set the frame back down, I could almost hear Jerry’s warm chuckle. “You spoil me, Bessie,” he’d say, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
I shuffled towards the kitchen, pausing to look back at the piano, my constant companion these past 72 years.
“What would I do without you?” I murmured, running my hand along its polished surface.
That night, as I lay in bed, I whispered into the darkness, “Goodnight, Jerry. I’ll see you in my dreams.”
The next morning, I was lost in Chopin’s “Nocturne in E-flat major” when a sharp rap on my window startled me. My fingers stumbled, the music cutting off abruptly.
A red-faced man glared at me through the glass. He was my new neighbor.
“Hey, lady!” he shouted, his voice muffled. “Cut out that racket! You’re keeping the whole neighborhood awake with your pathetic plinking!”
I stared at him, shocked. “I… I’m so sorry,” I stammered, even as a small voice in my head protested. It was barely 11 a.m., and none of my other neighbors had ever complained before.
The man stomped away, leaving me trembling. I closed the lid of the piano, my sanctuary suddenly feeling tainted.
The next day, I closed all the windows before sitting down to play. The music felt muffled and constrained, but I hoped it would keep the peace.
I was barely ten minutes into Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata” when my doorbell rang insistently. With a heavy heart, I answered it.
A woman with pinched features glared at me. “Listen here, old lady,” she spat. “The grave’s calling, and you’re still banging on that piano? Cut the noise, or I’ll report you to the HOA!”
It was only then that I understood she was my new neighbor’s wife.
I felt like I’d been slapped. “I… I closed all the windows,” I said weakly.
“Well, it’s not enough!” she snapped, turning on her heel. “Quit making noise with your stupid piano!”
I slumped against the door frame, tears welling in my eyes. “Oh, Jerry,” I whispered. “What do I do?”
I could almost hear his voice, gentle but firm. “You play, Bessie. You play your heart out. Don’t stop… for anyone.”
But as I sat at the piano, my fingers hovering over the keys, I couldn’t bring myself to press down.
Days passed, and I tried everything. I taped cardboard over the windows, played only in short bursts, even considered moving the piano to the basement where it might not be heard.
But nothing seemed to satisfy my new neighbors, the Grinches, as I’d started calling them in my head.
The thought of being separated from my cherished instrument, even by a flight of stairs, made my heart ache. This piano wasn’t just an object; it was an extension of my soul, a living connection to Jerry and our life together.
Forgetting about those bothersome neighbors for a moment, I lost myself in the music as I played the piano that night.
The next morning, I stepped outside to tend to my small herb garden. The sight that greeted me stopped me cold.
The cruel words “SHUT UP!” were spray-painted across the wall in angry red letters.
I sank to my knees and wept. “Jerry, I can’t do this anymore.”
That day, for the first time in decades, I didn’t touch my piano.
As night fell, I sat in Jerry’s armchair, clutching his photo. “I’m so sorry, my love. I just don’t have the strength to fight anymore.”
The shrill ring of the telephone startled me from my thoughts. I fumbled for the receiver.
“Hello?”
“Mom? It’s me,” my son Jacob’s warm voice filled the line. “How are you doing?”
I swallowed hard, fighting back tears. “Oh, I’m fine, sweetie. Just a quiet day at home.”
There was a pause. “Mom, you don’t sound fine. Is everything alright?”
I sighed, debating whether to burden him with my troubles. “It’s nothing, really. Just… some issues with the new neighbors.”
“Issues? What kind of issues?”
I found myself spilling everything… the complaints, the threats, the vandalism.
“I don’t know what to do anymore, honey. I feel so… lost.”
“Oh, Mom, why didn’t you tell me sooner? We could have helped.”
“I didn’t want to worry you. You have your own life, your own problems.”
“Mom, you’re never a burden. Never. Your music has brought joy to so many people over the years. Remember all those Christmas parties? The school recitals you played for? You’re not a nuisance… you’re a treasure.”
“Listen, I’m going to call Melissa. She’s closer. Maybe she can come check on you. And we’ll figure this out together, okay?” Jacob finished.
As I hung up the phone, I felt a small flicker of hope. Maybe I wasn’t alone in this after all.
Days crawled by. My piano sat untouched, gathering dust. I felt like a part of me was withering away.
One evening, a loud knock startled me from my melancholy. I opened the door to find my granddaughter Melissa standing there, her face glowing with a warm smile.
“Surprise, Nana!” she exclaimed, enveloping me in a tight hug.
As she pulled back, her eyes widened in horror. “Nana, who did this to your wall?”
I burst into tears, the whole story spilling out between sobs. Melissa’s expression darkened with each word.
Woman Opens Her Door and Sees Crying Little Girl Who Claims Her Mom Is in the House — Story of the Day
A young woman’s impulse to help a grieving little girl ended up turning her life around and bringing her happiness.
How many of us can claim that destiny came knocking on our door? Yet that is what happened to Anna Uriel. In Anna’s case, destiny took the shape of a little girl with big brown eyes, her hair in a braid.
Anna answered the doorbell and found herself staring down at a little girl no more than six years old in a pretty gingham dress. “Hi sweetheart,” she said gently. “I think you have the wrong house.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
The girl shook her head. “No, this is my mommy’s house. Please can you call her?”
“I’m sorry, hun,” Anna said. “I’m the only person who lives here.”
The child started crying. “Please, please! I need my mommy!”
“Hun, where is you daddy?” asked Anna.
“He’s at home. He says mommy’s gone forever, but I know it isn’t true. She’s here!” the girl sobbed.
Anna crouched down and looked the little girl in the eye. “Sweetie, I promise you your mommy’s not here. How about I give you some warm milk and cookies and I take you home to your daddy?”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
The girl looked up at Anna sadly. “Okay,” she whispered.
Anna turned to lead the girl into the house, but when she looked around again she was gone. Had it all been a dream? Anna walked next door and knocked on Mrs. Freman’s door.
She told Mrs. Freman about the mysterious little girl. “She vanished so quickly I almost felt it had all been a dream!” Anna concluded.
Mrs. Freman poured Anna some tea. “Your house used to belong to a little family. They had a little girl. Nice people. But the mother became very ill and after she passed away her husband sold the house. That must be the child.”
“Poor thing!” Anna sighed. “To lose her mother so young!”
“I can’t remember their name…” Mrs. Freman said. “It’s my memory…But the little girl… Her name was Cassie!”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unplash
“Cassie,” Anna said. “If she comes back, I’ll call the police, take her home. She’s much too young to be wandering the streets alone.” But Cassie didn’t come back and Anna’s life continued as planned.
Anna had always believed in making plans. She’d planned to marry at 25 and to become a mother at 28, but for four years she and her husband had tried to conceive, and still there was no baby.
After a lot of painful treatments, Anna became pregnant, but sadly, she lost her baby when he was only a month old. The doctors told her her chances of having another were slim to none.
Her husband told her quite frankly that being childless was not in his plans, and he didn’t want to adopt. He walked out and left Anna devastated and alone with her shattered dreams.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
So Anna could understand Cassie’s pain, the empty place in her life and in her arms where her baby should be. Anna knew how hard it is to let go. She hoped Cassie would come back, but months went by without a visit.
Then one winter evening, there was a knock on her door. There in the doorway stood Cassie huddled in a winter coat, tears freezing on her little cheeks. “Please, lady, I really need my mommy. Daddy’s on the floor and I can’t wake him up. Please, please call my mommy!”
Anna was horrified. She grabbed her coat and her purse. “Honey, Cassie, right? Can you show me where your daddy is?”
Destiny can bring happiness to our door when we least expect it.
The child smiled radially up at Anna. “I knew you’d remember me, mommy! Come!” and she tugged urgently on Anna’s hand and led her to an apartment building three blocks away.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
Anna found the front door open, and lying in the middle of a squalid room was an unconscious man. She tried to shake him awake. He stank of alcohol! She dragged him off the floor and onto the couch and walked into the kitchen. It was a disgrace.
Anna set a pot of coffee brewing and started to clean up. Cassie followed her. “Mommy, are you going to make cookies? I’ve missed your cookies!”
“Cassie, I’m not your mommy, but I’ll make you some cookies,” Anna told the little girl. Over the next hour, Anna restored some much-needed order to the apartment and popped a tray of cookies into the oven.
Soon the delicious aroma of cookies and coffee filled the house. Anna filled a mug with coffee and went back to the man. She shook him. “Wake up!” she ordered, “Your daughter needs you!”
The man opened swollen eyes and for a moment his face reflected a dawning hope. “Bess?” he whispered.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
“I’m Anna, and your daughter came knocking on my door looking for her mother.” Anna’s voice was harsh. “She needs her father, so sober up and pull yourself together!”
The man struggled up off the couch. “I don’t need you or your help! Get out”
“I’m not here for you, you fool. I’m here for Cassie.” Anna snapped. “And remember, while you were here wallowing in self-pity she was knocking on a stranger’s door.”
Anna kissed Cassie goodbye and walked out. She never imagined she’d see Cassie or her awful dad ever again, but a week later, there was a knock on her door. A tall handsome man was standing there.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
“Hi,” he said nervously. “I wanted to thank you and to apologize…”
“I’m sorry,” Anna said bewildered. “Who are you?”
The man blushed. “I’m Jeffrey, Cassie’s dad. I wanted to thank you for what you did for Cassie — and for me. I was so lost in my grief I didn’t realize what Cassie was going through.”
Anna smiled. “It’s okay, I know how hard it is to pull through those dark days.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
Jeffrey looked into Anna’s sad eyes. “You lost someone too?”
“My son,” Anna whispered, tears in her eyes. “After he died, my husband left…”
From then on, Anna started visiting Cassie and Jeffrey and the three of them helped each other through their grief. One day, Anna and Jeffrey discovered they were in love — Cassie already knew — and they got married.
Two years later, Anna was blessed by an unexpected miracle. She discovered she was pregnant and she and Jeffrey welcomed a beautiful, healthy baby boy. Cassie became the proudest big sister in the world.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
What can we learn from this story?
- Destiny can bring happiness to our door when we least expect it. Anna was sad and lonely until Cassie knocked on her door looking for her mother.
- Sometimes a wake-up call can turn a life around. Anna’s visit showed Jeffrey he had to stop grieving and focus on his daughter.
Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.
If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a young widower who refused to allow his dead wife’s family to have contact with her daughter.
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