A Father’s Promise
On a snowy winter’s day, with thick flakes drifting down, a young father named Thomas named his daughter Snow, for she was as light and delicate as the falling snow.
“Just like those gentle flakes,” he thought on his way to the hospital, where his wife, Helen, had just given birth. He knew life would be busier now, but his heart was full.
Helen loved the name too, and their little girl, with her fair skin and grey eyes, truly suited it. Snow grew up surrounded by love. Her parents adored their little “Snowflake,” as her father often called her. At nearly six, she felt quite grown-up, though their elderly neighbour, Mrs. Clara from across the hall, still called her “little one.”
“I’m not little anymore!” Snow would protest, and Mrs. Clara would simply smile and nod.
One night, Snow lay awake in bed, listening to her parents talk. She liked eavesdropping—not on purpose, but when sleep wouldn’t come, their conversations were always interesting. Tonight, they spoke of her mother’s pregnancy. Everyone knew a baby boy was coming soon. Snow had even picked a name for him: Teddy, after a kind boy at her nursery who the teachers always praised. If all boys named Teddy were good, hers would be too.
Her parents murmured about something called a “C-section.” She didn’t understand, but she caught her father’s worried voice.
“I’ve heard babies born this way might lag behind at first,” he said. “And you’ll have to go to hospital early. Who’ll look after Snow?”
“Tom, let’s not fret yet,” Helen replied. “We’ll see when the time comes.”
Before Snow could puzzle it out, sleep took her. Another night, she overheard them discussing her birthday present.
“Let’s get her gold earrings,” Helen suggested. “We’ve already pierced her ears.”
“Isn’t it too soon for such an expensive gift?” Thomas hesitated.
“She’ll be a big sister soon. It’s time she felt grown-up. I’ve found a lovely pair.”
Snow grinned and promptly fell asleep. The days crawled until her birthday. The night before, she dozed off quickly, eager for morning.
“Happy birthday, darling,” Helen said with a soft smile, cradling her belly as she handed Snow a small blue box. Thomas stood beside her, beaming.
Snow tore it open and gasped—gold earrings! But then Helen winced, clutching her stomach.
“Tom, get the car—now! We need to go to the hospital. Drop Snow at Mrs. Clara’s on the way.”
Snow’s joy dimmed. Her birthday, and now this! She refused to go to Mrs. Clara’s—let the old woman come to her instead. But after her parents left, Mrs. Clara fed her and checked in throughout the day. By evening, she’d had enough.
“I’m too old to keep running back and forth. You’re sleeping at mine tonight. Your dad can fetch you later.”
Reluctantly, Snow agreed.
Thomas returned the next morning, hollow-eyed and shaken.
“What’s happened to Helen?” Mrs. Clara gasped.
He nodded mutely, tears glistening.
“Daddy, where’s Teddy?”
“He’s gone. With your mum.”
That night, for the first time, Thomas allowed Snow into his bed. He tucked her in tightly where Helen used to sleep, remembering how she’d always welcomed Snow when he worked nights.
The funeral passed in a blur. Snow barely recalled it. At the hospital, she played in the courtyard while Thomas went inside. Later, she saw her mother lying still, white-faced—no Teddy beside her.
Days later, Snow clutched her ears and realised one earring was missing. She sobbed—how could she lose Mum’s gift?
Three months passed. Thomas was restless, haunted. He’d told no one that he’d refused his son. The boy had been alive—the hospital matron had pleaded with him.
“Are you certain? You’re in shock, but there are options—family, a nanny. You don’t even have to take him today.”
“I’ve a six-year-old daughter. I can’t afford help, and I must work to raise her.”
“You’ll regret this,” the matron said sternly. “Once his records are sealed, you’ll never find him. What did you plan to name him?”
“Teddy. Michael. It’s what Snow wanted.”
Now, tormented, Thomas returned to the hospital, begging for information. The matron refused. He tried offering money but feared her iron resolve. As he trudged away, a nurse hurried after him.
“I… I know something about your son.”
Hope flared in his chest.
“After your wife passed, another woman gave birth that night. Her baby was stillborn. When she woke, they gave her your son. They thought it best.”
“Do you know her name? Address?”
“No, but I remember her name—it was Snow.”
He handed her a few notes and wandered off, dazed. Spotting a jeweller’s, he thought, “I’ll buy Snow a necklace. She wears that single earring on a cord—won’t part with it.”
Inside, he browsed gold chains when a young woman approached the pawn counter.
“Can I pawn this earring? It’s not mine—I found it. I’ll reclaim it later.” She handed over her ID.
“Miss Snow Williams,” the clerk said.
Thomas’s head snapped up. Same name as his daughter. Alone, holding an earring identical to Snow’s. An idea took root.
“Excuse me—my daughter lost one just like that. Would you sell it to me? She treasures them.”
The woman—young, pretty—turned in surprise.
“I found it near the hospital. I need the money badly.”
“Let’s step outside.”
He paid her generously. She stared at the extra cash.
“Thank you. I must hurry—my son’s with a flatmate. My little Ted’s so calm, I could slip out.”
“Ted? How old?”
“Three months. The nurses said he looked like a teddy bear, so I named him.”
“Where do you live?”
“A dorm. I’m finishing nursing school. My dad’s strict—he’d throw me out. The warden harasses me, but where else can I go?”
The pieces fell into place. This was his son. But how to explain?
“Snow… my daughter’s name is Snow too. We’ve a spare room—you and Ted could stay with us. No rent.”
She hesitated but agreed. They collected Ted and returned home. Snow squealed, clasping her earring, then gaped at the baby. She adored that his mother shared her name.
Soon, a DNA test confirmed Ted was Thomas’s son. A year later, he married Snow.
“Now I’ve two Snowflakes at home,” he’d say, grinning.
Snow believed her mum Helen had sent this new mother—a friend who’d brought her baby brother back. On her first day of school, she marched proudly, clutching flowers, her blonde plaits tied with huge bows. Thomas doted on Ted, who now toddled to greet him after work.
They were happy—whole at last.
