A Mother by Heart and True Love: A Story You Won’t Forget
Emily arrives in the village late in the evening. As she pushes open the garden gate, she spots her mother sitting on the porch with a ball of yarn in her hands.
“Emily, love!” The woman gasps, struggling to her feet. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? I’d have made your favourite soup—cream of tomato!”
Emily studies her closely, then blurts out, “And why didn’t you tell me?”
“Tell you what?” her mother asks, bewildered, unsure where this is leading.
Just the day before, Emily had been packing for a long-awaited trip with friends. She and William, her sweetheart, had their bags ready. But a call from her younger sister, Charlotte, changed everything—Mum might have a serious illness. Without hesitation, Emily cancelled her holiday, booked a train ticket, and rushed home.
“Should I come with you?” William asked anxiously.
“No, it’s fine. Enjoy your break. Just text when you can. And… I’ll miss you,” she whispered.
Emily was strong, reserved. She knew the sting of betrayal and a broken marriage firsthand. That’s why she hadn’t told her parents about William yet. She wanted to be certain—this was forever.
The journey home was exhausting. Two changes, endless waits, and worst of all—a gnawing dread. For two years, Emily had visited the village only a handful of times. Her beloved job had pulled her far from home, and each return weighed heavier on her heart.
Her mum… wasn’t her birth mother. A stepmother. But Emily and Charlotte had always called her Mum. Because she hadn’t just entered their lives—she’d healed their family.
Years ago, their real mother had left—cheating, drinking, indifference. Their father, trying to save the marriage, came back from working abroad and brought the girls home. He raised them as best he could, but it was hard. The farm, two little girls, school, chores—all on his shoulders.
Then Margaret arrived. A mother of three, a teacher trapped in a troubled marriage. One evening, her youngest son ran to the neighbours in tears: “Dad’s shouting at Mum again.” Emily’s father stepped in. Days later, Margaret moved in with them.
“What if I marry Aunt Margaret?” he asked his daughters.
Charlotte cheered, “Brilliant!” But Emily stayed silent. She didn’t want to share her father’s attention. Everything changed when Emily fell seriously ill. Margaret never left her side, sitting by her bed at night, bringing her juice in the day.
“You’ll always be like this?” Emily whispered then.
“I might not replace your mum… but I’ll never hurt you,” Margaret replied.
From that morning on, everything shifted. Emily accepted her—not as a stepmother, not as a stranger. As her mum.
Now, years later, she’s back—her heart full of worry.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were ill?” Emily asks, fighting her emotions as she looks at the woman, grey with exhaustion.
“They’ll know tomorrow for sure…” Margaret murmurs. “But today, Emily love, you’re home. That’s joy enough.”
The family gathers around the table as if for a celebration, all hiding their unease. Charlotte has finished university and teaches at a school. James helps his dad at the sawmill. Oliver is studying for law school. The youngest, Sophie, dreams of acting.
And Margaret… She keeps goats, learns to knit, and jokes about getting ready for grandchildren:
“I’ve already knitted three little sets. Waiting for the pitter-patter!”
Late that night, Emily sits with her mum in the kitchen. She hugs her, strokes her hand.
“Tomorrow will be better. I feel it,” she says.
“With all your work, I suppose I won’t live to see grandchildren,” Margaret sighs.
“Guess again.” Emily pulls out her phone and shows a picture of William. “Meet William.”
“Handsome… And kind,” Margaret murmurs, reading his message: “How are you? Should I come?”
Emily smiles. Yes, she knows now—it’s time to tell her family about him. He’s the one.
The next morning, they go to the hospital. The results come back clear. No illness. Mum cries with relief, and Emily holds her tight.
“See? I came for a reason. We’ve still got those little knitted sets to hand out!”
