A Mother Named and a Love Remembered: A Tale Unforgotten
Lucy arrived in the village late one evening. As she pushed open the garden gate, she saw her mother sitting on the porch, knitting needles in hand.
“Lucy, my dear!” The woman clasped her hands, struggling to rise. “Why didn’t you say you were coming? I’d have made your favourite—pea and mint soup!”
Lucy studied her intently before blurting out—
“And why didn’t you tell me?”
“Tell you what?” Her mother looked bewildered, unsure where this was leading.
Just the day before, Lucy had been packing for a long-awaited holiday with friends. She and William, the man she loved, had already stuffed their rucksacks. But then her younger sister Emily called—their mother was suspected of a grave illness. Without hesitation, Lucy cancelled her trip, booked a train ticket, and rushed home.
“Should I come with you?” William had asked, voice tight with worry.
“No, stay. Enjoy your time. Just write when you can. And… I’ll miss you,” she’d murmured.
Lucy was strong, composed. She knew the sting of betrayal, the weight of a joyless marriage—not from stories, but from life. That was why she hadn’t told her parents about William yet. She wanted to be certain—this was forever.
The journey home had been gruelling. Two changes, endless waits, and gnawing dread. In two years, Lucy had visited the village only a handful of times. Her beloved work had carried her far from home, and every return grew harder on the heart.
Mother… She wasn’t theirs by blood. A stepmother. Yet Lucy and Emily 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—betrayal, indifference, selfishness. Their father, trying to salvage the marriage, returned from work abroad and brought his girls home. He raised them as best he could alone. But it was hard. The farm, two young girls, school, chores—all rested on his shoulders.
Then came Margaret. A mother of three, a schoolteacher trapped in a troubled marriage. One evening, her youngest son ran to the neighbours in tears: “Dad’s shouting at Mum again.” Lucy’s father stepped in. Days later, Margaret moved in with them.
“What if I marry Aunt Margaret?” he’d asked his daughters.
Emily had grinned. “Brilliant!” But Lucy stayed silent. She didn’t want to share her father’s affection. Then Lucy fell terribly ill. Margaret never left her bedside, sitting with her through the nights, bringing raspberry cordial by day.
“Will you always be like this?” Lucy had whispered.
“I may never replace your mother… but I’ll never hurt you,” Margaret had replied.
From that morning on, everything changed. Lucy accepted her—not as a stepmother, not as a stranger. As her mum.
Now, years later, she was back—heart heavy with fear.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were ill?” Lucy asked, voice steady but eyes gleaming.
“The doctor will know for sure tomorrow…” Margaret said softly. “But tonight, my love, you’re home. That’s happiness enough.”
The family gathered at the table as if for a feast. All hid their worry behind smiles. Emily had finished university and now taught at the village school. Thomas helped his father at the sawmill. Young Henry was preparing for law school. Little Sophie, the baby, dreamed of the stage.
And Margaret… She kept goats, had taken up knitting, and joked about grandchildren—
“I’ve already knitted three sets of baby clothes. Waiting for the pitter-patter!”
Late that night, Lucy sat with her mother in the kitchen. She hugged her, stroked her hand.
“Tomorrow will be better. I feel it,” she said.
“You’re all so busy with your lives… I suppose I’ll never see those grandchildren,” Margaret sighed.
“Wrong.” Lucy pulled out her phone and showed a picture of William. “Meet William.”
“Handsome… and kind, too,” Margaret murmured, reading his message: “How are you? Should I come?”
Lucy smiled. Yes—she knew now. It was time to tell her family about him. He was the one.
At dawn, they went to the hospital. The results came back clear. No illness. Margaret wept with relief, and Lucy held her tight—
“See? I came for a reason. We’ve still got baby clothes to give out!”
