**How Granny Annie Found Her Daughter**
The quiet evening settled over the village like a soft blanket as Annie Simmons, known to everyone simply as Granny Annie, stepped out of her little cottage and tapped three times on her neighbors window with her knuckles. The pane echoed with a familiar, hollow sound. Moments later, the surprised, wrinkled face of Mrs. Wilkins appeared behind the glass. She swung open the creaky old door and stood on the porch, tucking a stray lock of gray hair behind her ear.
“Annie, love, what are you doing standing there like a stranger? Come in, dont be shyIve just put the kettle on!” she called across the yard, but her voice already carried a note of worry.
“No, no, Mary, thank you, I wont come in,” Annies voice trembled, and she was surprised at her own sudden weakness. “Ive come about something important, very important. Listen, I need to go to the city, to the big hospital. Its urgent. Theres trouble with my eyesthey wont stop watering, everythings blurred, like Im looking through thick fog. At night, the pains so bad I cant bear it. The doctora young chaptook one look and said I need an operation, and fast, or else or else Ill go blind. I dont know how Ill manage, all alone. But I suppose the world isnt without kind soulssomeone will point me in the right direction.”
“Annie, my dear, of course you must go! Dont wait another moment!” Mrs. Wilkins replied at once, shuffling in her worn slippers. “Ill look after your place, your goat Betsy, the chickenseverything! Dont you worry! Youre rightgoing blind alone, thats a misery no one should face. Go, and God keep you safe!”
Annie Simmons was well past seventy. Her life, long and unforgiving, had dragged her through hardship after hardship, knocked her down so many times she thought shed never rise again. But she always did. And at last, like a wounded bird, she found refuge in this quiet village, in a cottage left to her by long-dead relatives. The journey to the city seemed endless and terrifying. Sitting in the rickety bus, she clutched her worn handbag and turned the same anxious thought over and over in her mind.
“A knife theyll touch my eyes with a knife? How can that be? The doctor said not to worry, called it a simple procedure, but my heart aches, weighed down by dread. Im frightened. Oh, how frightened I am, all alone.”
The hospital ward was clean, smelling of antiseptic and silence. A younger woman lay by the window, and opposite her, another elderly patient like Annie. The company eased her heart a little. She sank onto the bed shed been given and thought, “Well, misery loves company. This illness spares neither young nor old.”
After lunch, which they called “quiet hour,” visitors flooded in. The younger womans husband arrived with their schoolboy son, arms laden with fruit and juice. The other patients daughter came with her husband and a curly-haired granddaughter who laughed and chattered nonstop. They surrounded their mother and grandmother with care, warmth, and kind words. The ward grew loud, cheerful and unbearably lonely. Annie turned to the wall and wiped away a traitorous tear. No one had come for her. No one brought her an apple or even a kind word. She was utterly alone, forgotten, an unwanted old woman. Her heart clenched with bitter envy and helpless sorrow.
The next morning, the doctors made their rounds. A woman in a crisp white coat enteredyoung, beautiful, radiating calm and confidence that instantly comforted Granny Annie.
“How are we feeling, Annie? In good spirits?” The doctors voice was warm, velvet-soft, full of genuine kindness.
“Getting by, dear, what else can I do?” Annie fussed. “Forgive me, lovewhat should I call you?”
“Dr. Eleanor Peters. Im your physician. And you, Annieis there anyone we should notify? Any family?”
Annies heart lurched. She lowered her eyes and whispered the first lie that came to mind, bitter and far from the truth. “No, dear, no one. God never gave me children”
The doctor patted her hand gently, made a note, and left. Annie sat on the bed, burning with shame. “Why? Why did I lie to that kind woman? Why deny the most sacred part of my life? Its not truenot true!”
She hadnt wanted to reopen the old, unhealed wound, the pain shed carried most of her life. It only grew heavier with time. Because she had had a daughter. A beloved, cherished little girlEllie.
Years ago, in her youth, shed met Peter, a war veteran missing an arm. In those post-war years, when men were scarce, she hadnt hesitated to marry him. At first, they were happy. A daughter was born. Then Peter fell gravely ill. No treatment helped. She buried him and was left alone with a tiny child.
Young Annie had been beautifulstately, rosy-cheeked, with thick braids. She worked the farm, straining every muscle. Then one day, a city man named Nicholas passed through on business. Charming and quick-tongued, he noticed the pretty widow and courted her. Starved for affection, she lost her head. When it was time for him to leave, he urged her to go with him.
“But Ellies so small, Nickwhere would I take her?” she protested.
“Leave her with your mother, just for a while!” he insisted. “Well get settled, then bring her straight after! I promise!”
Young and foolish, she believed his sweet words, his promises of a better life. She left five-year-old Ellie with her aging mother and followed Nicholas to the far ends of the country.
At first, she wrote often. But Nicholas never stayed in one place. Every time she mentioned Ellie, he brushed her off. “When were settled, when we have a homethen well fetch her!” Letters from her mother grew scarce, then stopped. At first, she wept for her child, but with time, the pain dulled. Nicholas only joked, “Well have our own, then bring yours!” But God gave her no more childrenas if punishing her for that terrible choice. Nicholas took to drink, then violence. Twenty-five years passed in wandering and humiliation. It only ended when he died in a drunken brawl.
After burying him, Annie sold what little they had and returned home, hoping to find her mother and daughter. But no one waited. Her mother had died years before. The neighbors knew nothing of Ellieonly that shed come for the funeral, then left. The old house stood boarded up, sagging. She stayed three days, searching for answers in vain. At the cemetery, she laid wildflowers on her mothers grave and left, weeping with regret. She moved to another village, living alone, blaming herself daily, begging Ellies forgiveness in her heart. “If I could turn back time, Id never trade my darling for false promises. But the past cant be undone”
The night before surgery, Annie couldnt sleep. Despite Dr. Eleanors reassurance, fear gnawed at her. She even considered confessing the truth.
“Youll be fine, Annie. The pain will go. Youll see clearly again,” Eleanor had said gently before leaving.
But dread lingered. At dawn, a strange thought struck her: “Good Lordmy Ellies name was Eleanor too Her middle name was Peters, after her grandfather. Could it be? Her eyesso familiar, so kind I must ask her surname tomorrow. What if?”
But morning came too soon. The nurses took her to surgery before she could ask.
Waking afterward, she found her eyes tightly bandaged. The darkness terrified her. “What if Im stuck like this forever?”
She heard the ward bustling around her, helpless in the blackness. Thena presence. Gentle hands unwound the bandages. Light flooded in.
A nurse smiled. “Can you see? Ill fetch the doctor.”
The surgeon, a brisk man, shone a light in her eyes and nodded. “Perfect. Just rest nowno crying, no straining.”
After he left, the nurse set a bag on her nightstand. “From Dr. Eleanor. Apples, lemon, and sweets for your tea. She said youd need the vitamins. Shes off today.”
“Oh, bless her,” Annie murmured. “A doctor, bringing gifts to an old woman like me Like sunshine walking in”
She waited for Eleanor with nervous anticipation. Two days later, the doctor returned at evening rounds. The room seemed brighter when she entered. In her hand was an official envelope. Annies heart racedsomething important was coming.
“Good evening, Mum,” Eleanor whispered, too soft for others to hear.
Annie froze. Her pulse pounded in her throat. “Good evening, dear Why call me Mum? Im flattered, but”
“Because you are my mother
