“How could you let yourself end up in such a mess, you foolish girl? Who would want you now—with a child on the way? And how exactly do you plan to raise it? Don’t even think of asking me for help. I raised you. Now your child too? I don’t need this. Pack your things and get out of my house.”
Anna stood there in silence, her eyes lowered. Whatever hope she had that Aunt Helen might offer her shelter—even just until she found a job—dissolved in that moment.
“If only my mother were still alive…”
Anna had never known her father, and her mother had died in a car accident fifteen years ago—struck by a drunk driver at a pedestrian crossing. Just as social services were preparing to place Anna in foster care, a distant relative stepped forward. Aunt Helen, a cousin of her mother’s, agreed to take her in. With a good job and a house of her own, the guardianship had gone through easily.
Aunt Helen lived in a town on the southern border, where summers were lush and hot, and winters brought long rains. Anna was well-fed, dressed decently, and accustomed to hard work. The house had a yard and a few animals, so there was always something to do. There wasn’t much warmth or affection, but Anna learned early not to expect it.
She had done well in school, eventually earning a place at a teacher training college. Those years flew by, filled with classes, friends, and dreams. And then they were over—final exams passed—and Anna returned to the town she had once called home. Only now, she returned different, and not in celebration.
After her tirade, Aunt Helen quieted a little.
“Enough. Go. I don’t want to see you anymore.”
“Please, just—” Anna began.
“No. I’ve said my piece.”
Anna didn’t argue. She picked up her small suitcase and stepped out into the heat of the summer street. She hadn’t imagined returning this way—humiliated, cast out, and pregnant, though only in the early stages. But she had confessed it. She couldn’t and wouldn’t hide it any longer.
She wandered for hours, unsure of where she was going, lost in thought.
The southern air was heavy with the smells of ripe fruit—apples, pears, apricots, grapes, plums—all thick on the branches. Scents of meat grilling and fresh bread baking drifted through open windows. The heat was relentless. Parched, Anna approached a gate and saw a woman standing near an outdoor kitchen.
“Excuse me, could I have a drink of water?”
Pauline, a broad-shouldered woman in her fifties, turned toward her. “Come on in, if your intentions are good.”
She ladled a cup of water from a pail and handed it over. Anna sank onto a bench and drank it gratefully.
“Mind if I sit a while? It’s so hot.”
“Of course. You’re not from around here, are you? I see you’ve got a suitcase.”
“I just finished college. I’m looking for a job as a teacher. But I’ve got nowhere to stay. You wouldn’t happen to know someone renting a room?”
Pauline studied her—a tired, neat young woman with the look of someone carrying a burden.
“You can stay here, if you want. It’ll make the place less lonely. I won’t charge much, but rent’s due on time. If you’re interested, I’ll show you the room.”
Pauline liked the idea of a lodger. It meant extra income and company, especially with her own son living far away and rarely visiting. She wouldn’t mind someone to talk to in the long winter evenings.
Anna, hardly believing her luck, followed her into the house. The room was small but clean and cozy, with a bed, a table, two chairs, a wardrobe, and a window that opened onto the garden. It was perfect. They settled on the rent, and after changing her clothes, Anna headed to the local education office.
From then on, the days blended together—work, home, work again. The weeks slipped by, and Anna barely noticed how fast time was moving.
She and Pauline grew close. The older woman was warm and no-nonsense, and Anna appreciated her steady presence. She helped out around the house and spent many evenings chatting with Pauline in the garden, sipping tea under the grapevines. Autumn in the south came slowly, allowing their bond to deepen.
The pregnancy went smoothly. No nausea, no fatigue—just steady weight gain. Her face remained fresh. Eventually, she shared her story with Pauline.
It was a familiar one. In her second year of college, Anna fell for James—a charming, intelligent young man with wealthy parents who taught at the university. He was handsome, charismatic, and seemed drawn to Anna’s quiet warmth. They were inseparable. Anna imagined their future together.
Then came the morning she couldn’t eat, couldn’t tolerate smells, and felt sick. She took a test. Two pink lines stared back. She was pregnant.
At first, she panicked. Exams were approaching. This wasn’t part of the plan. But almost instantly, she felt a swell of emotion—for the tiny life inside her.
“Hello, little one,” she whispered, pressing a hand to her stomach.
That same day, James promised to introduce her to his parents. But their meeting was cold and calculated. They told her to terminate the pregnancy, finish school, and leave quietly. James, they said, had a future ahead—graduate studies, a career—and Anna didn’t fit into it.
Whatever conversation James had with them afterward, she never knew. The next day, he walked into her room, placed an envelope filled with money on the table, and walked out without a word.
Abortion never crossed her mind. She already loved her baby. Still, she kept the money, knowing how badly she’d need it.
Pauline listened to the story in silence and gently rested a hand on Anna’s arm. “You did the right thing. Some things in life feel like the end, but they turn out to be the beginning.”
But reconciliation with James was impossible. The humiliation was too deep, his rejection too cruel.
Time passed. Anna left work as her belly grew round and heavy. She waddled through the house, smiling whenever the baby kicked. She didn’t know if it would be a boy or a girl, but it didn’t matter.
At the end of February, labor began. Pauline drove her to the hospital. The birth was smooth. Anna delivered a healthy baby boy.
“John,” she whispered, touching his tiny cheek.
In the maternity ward, Anna befriended the other new mothers. They told her about a woman who had given birth two days earlier—a girlfriend of a border officer. Not his wife, just his partner. She had said she never wanted children and had left a note, walked away, and never looked back.
“What about the baby?”
“She’s being bottle-fed, but the nurses say she needs breastmilk. No one else has enough to spare.”
When a nurse brought in the frail little girl during feeding time, her voice was soft.
“Can anyone help? She’s so small.”
Anna looked at the baby, then at her sleeping son.
“I’ll do it,” she said gently.
She cradled the girl in her arms. “So tiny,” she murmured. “I’ll call you Mary.”
The baby latched onto Anna with urgency, nursed a little, then dozed off.
“She’s weak,” the nurse said. “But she’ll grow stronger.”
And so, Anna began feeding both babies.
Two days later, a nurse entered her room.
“The baby’s father is here. He asked to meet you—the one who’s been feeding his daughter.”
That was how Anna met Captain James Hathaway—a border officer, not much older than herself, with calm blue eyes and a steady gaze.
What happened next became something of a local legend.
On the day Anna was discharged, the hospital entrance was packed—doctors, nurses, assistants, all watching with smiles and murmurs of surprise. A Jeep decorated with blue and pink balloons waited at the curb. Captain Hathaway helped Anna inside. Pauline was already seated, smiling. Then he carefully passed her the blue bundle—John—and the pink one—Mary.
With a wave and a honk, the Jeep pulled away and disappeared down the road.
No one knows what life has in store. You think you’ve lost everything, only to find a new beginning waiting in the most unexpected place.