The Elderly Woman Turned to Robert and Uttered Words That Sent Shivers Down His Spine: “Today Will Be a Beautiful, Sunny Day. We’ll Have Plenty of Time to Do Something.”

Author Mitsuko NagasakiReading 3 minViews 3

The elderly woman turned to Robert and uttered words that sent a shiver down his spine: Todays going to be a splendid, sunny day. Well have plenty of time to make something of it.

It was a quiet Wednesday as Robert travelled on the train, the carriage mostly empty and calm. An older woman shuffled in and settled beside him, looking every bit the keen gardener out to tend her plot in the countryside, just as Robert was and many others aboard. Memories of his late wife washed over him, bittersweet and heavy. He and she had always visited their allotment together, but after her illness took her, Robert had been unable to face the place, haunted by his own loneliness and sorrow.

As the train slowed to a halt at the station, the elderly woman turned to him and spoke words that sent chills down his back: Todays going to be a splendid, sunny day. Well have plenty of time to accomplish something. Those words were exactly what his late wife used to say. Startled, Robert nodded in silent agreement, and they slipped into conversation, sharing thoughts on the paltry harvest that year, the gruelling winter theyd endured, and all the quiet hope they held for the seasons to come.

When they arrived at the bus stop, Robert was struck with surprise that he’d never met this woman before. They walked together for a time before parting ways. When Robert reached his own allotment, it was wild, overrun with weeds after so long left untended. Yet, the conversation with the woman on the train had buoyed his spirits, and for the first time in ages, he felt eager to explore the place again.

With a burst of renewed energy, he picked up his spade and got to work, digging beds and pulling up stubborn weeds. The satisfaction of seeing the rich, dark earth beneath it all convinced him to delay selling the plot. He took his break on an old bench, enjoying sandwiches and a mug of tea while watching his favourite flowers sway in the breeze and eyeing the russet apples hanging heavy on the new treereminders of sweeter days.

Roberts spirits soared, so much so that he resolved to visit his plot more often. Foraging for mushrooms in the woodland, he felt as though a burden had lifted from his heart. The simple acts of labour and tending the land brought him peace and a sense of purpose once more.

On his way home, he crossed paths with the same woman from the train. They shared apples and hearty laughter, discussing the quirks and joys of life on their allotments. The elder woman reassured Robert, telling him he still had plenty of life ahead, urging him to see his work not as a chore, but as a wellspring of happiness and meaning. As he stepped off at his station, Robert smiled up at the golden sunset, his heart lighter, no longer weighed down by grieve.

To See With Her Own Eyes After a devastating tragedy in which she lost her husband and six-year-old daughter in a car accident, Catherine struggled for months to recover. She spent almost half a year in a clinic, refusing visitors, with only her mother patiently at her side. One day, her mother gently said: “Kitty, your husband’s business is on the verge of collapse. It’s only barely holding on, and Edward is struggling. He called me, asked me to let you know. It’s good he’s an honest man, but still…” Those words seemed to bring Catherine out of her shell. “Yes, Mum, I need to get back to life. I think my Denis would be glad to know I’m continuing what he started. At least I understand something about the business—he must have sensed this, he was teaching me at his office.” Catherine returned to work and managed to save the shaky family business. Yet no matter how successful she was with work, she missed her little girl unbearably. “Darling, I want to suggest you consider adopting a girl from the children’s home—someone who’s having an even harder time than you. You’ll be saving her life, and I promise you’ll see that in helping her, you’ll be saving yourself, too.” After thinking long and hard about her mother’s words, Catherine realised she was right. Soon, she found herself visiting the local children’s home, fully aware that nothing could ever replace her own daughter. Ariana had been born with almost no sight. Her parents, both well-educated and from respectable backgrounds, abandoned her as soon as they learned about her diagnosis. Fear and cowardice apparently spare no one. And so, Ariana ended up at the children’s home, where they named her and raised her. She grew up mostly in darkness, recognising only faint shadows, but she learned to read and adored fairy tales—always believing one day her own fairy godmother would come. When Ariana was nearly seven, her fairy arrived: radiant, wealthy, beautiful, and deeply sad. Ariana couldn’t see her properly, but she sensed kindness. The director was curious why Catherine wanted a disabled child, but Catherine gave only polite, evasive answers. A carer led Ariana over by the hand. The moment Catherine saw her—angelic, with golden curls and large, deep, blind blue eyes—she knew: she was meant to be hers. “Who is this?” Catherine asked, unable to look away. “That’s our Ariana—she’s wonderful, gentle and sweet,” replied the carer. “She’s mine, Ariana is mine,” Catherine decided on the spot. The bond between Catherine and Ariana grew quickly and deeply, transforming both their lives. Under medical advice, Catherine learned that Ariana might regain her sight with surgery, though she’d need glasses. Before Ariana started school, they went through with the operation, but the results were limited. There might be another chance, but patience was needed. Meanwhile, Catherine devoted herself to her daughter, letting business thrive but keeping her personal life on hold. Ariana blossomed into a stunning young woman and graduated from university. She was grateful, unspoiled, and began working for Catherine’s company. Catherine guarded her closely, wary of opportunists who might take advantage of Ariana’s innocence and future inheritance. Then, Ariana fell in love. Catherine met Anthony and approved of him. Soon, Anthony proposed, and wedding preparations began. Half a year after the wedding, Ariana was due for her final eye operation. Anthony was loving and attentive, but Catherine sometimes felt there was something artificial about him—though she quickly dismissed the thought. One day, the couple visited a countryside restaurant to arrange wedding decorations. When Anthony’s car alarm went off, he left Ariana at the table. His phone, left on the table, rang persistently. Hesitant, Ariana finally answered—just in time to hear her future mother-in-law, Mrs. Ingrid Sutton, say: “Son, I’ve got an idea how we can be rid of that blind Ariana quickly. My friend at the travel agency set aside two tickets. After the wedding, take your little hen to the mountains, say you’re dying to enjoy the scenery. Make sure you’re alone—get her to trip and fall. Then come back and tell the police she disappeared after you argued; act devastated but stay calm. Once they find her, it’ll just look like a tragic accident. Don’t miss this chance, son—once she gets her surgery, it’ll be too late. We can’t let that money slip away. Think about it, I’m hanging up.” Ariana dropped the phone as if it had burned her. So, his mother wants to kill me—and Anthony, too? Her thoughts raced in horror. Just moments earlier, Ariana had been a blissful bride-to-be. Now, she realised those she thought of as family were plotting against her. Anthony never heard the call. She tried to steady herself as he returned and nonchalantly explained about the car alarm and an urgent call from work. “Go,” Ariana replied softly, “I’ll wait for Mum—she’ll help me with the plans.” Left alone, Ariana called Catherine. “Mum, come to the restaurant now,” she managed through tears. When Catherine arrived, Ariana told her everything she’d heard—the mountain plot, Ingrid’s voice, and how she’d quickly hung up before they realised it was her. Catherine was stunned. Could they really have been deceived by Anthony? They sat together, strategising their next steps, until Anthony called: “So, Ariana—did you and your mum decide about the decorations?” Taking the phone, Catherine responded: “Hello, Anthony. Good thing we found out about your plans with your mother just in time. Listen closely about your little mountain getaway…” Anthony either didn’t understand or was a brilliant actor: “What trip? What plans?” “You know—the trip where Ariana was supposed to have a tragic accident, and you’d come back a rich widower. You should also know that even deleted call recordings can be recovered by the police.” After a pause, Anthony replied, “It wasn’t me, it was my mother…” “You’re a coward and a disgrace, hiding behind your mother. Goodbye, Anthony.” The very next day, Anthony fled town with money taken from his mother. Mrs. Sutton also left for another city. She Experienced the Miracle: Seeing the World for Herself At the eye clinic, Ariana underwent her final operation. With her bandages still on, she and Catherine would sit on a bench outside, watched over by the kind young doctor, Dr. Derek Palmer, under the supervision of an experienced surgeon. Derek was clearly smitten, making Catherine nervous but warming Ariana’s heart. When the day came to remove the bandages, Derek brought Ariana a huge bouquet of roses. She was overwhelmed—she could see, truly see, for the first time. The flowers, the handsome young doctor with the gentle grey eyes—it was a dream fulfilled. “I’m so happy—I can see everything!” Ariana wept, and Derek gently calmed her. Glasses would always be a part of Ariana’s life, but that was a small price compared to what she’d gained. Time passed, and Ariana and Derek had a beautiful wedding. A year later, they welcomed a lovely baby daughter with her father’s grey eyes. Surrounded by love and protection, Ariana finally had her happy ending. Thank you for reading, for subscribing, and for your support. Wishing you all the best in life!

Do I Remember? I Can’t Forget! “Polly, we need to talk… Remember my illegitimate daughter, Nancy?” My husband spoke in riddles, making me uneasy. “Hmm… Do I remember? I could never forget! Why?” I sat down, bracing myself for trouble. He hesitated. “Nancy is begging us to take her daughter—my granddaughter.” “Why on earth, Alex? Where’s Nancy’s husband—living in dreamland?” Now I was intrigued. Alex explained: “Nancy doesn’t have long left. Never had a husband. Her mother married an American and moved to the States—massive falling out, no contact. No other family. That’s why she’s asking…” Alex looked embarrassed. “So?” I pressed. “What are you going to do?” I already knew my answer. “I’m asking you, Polly. Whatever you say, we’ll do,” Alex finally met my gaze. “Very clever—you sowed your wild oats, and now, Polly, you want me to take responsibility for someone else’s child? Is that right?” I was furious at his weakness. “Polly, we’re a family. We decide together,” Alex protested. “Oh! Now you remember. But when you were fooling around, did you ask my advice? I’m your wife!” I burst into tears and left the room. …Back in school, I dated my classmate, Val, but when new boy Alex showed up, I forgot everyone else. We became inseparable; within a week, I was in love. When Alex was drafted into the army, I cried my eyes out on the train platform. For a year, we wrote letters—until he confessed he’d met someone else. By then, I was already pregnant, thanks to Alex’s fleeting promises. Old Val stepped up and helped; truth be told, we became close. I never expected to see Alex again—until he turned up at my door, and Val had to let him in. After some awkwardness, Alex said, “I’ve come back for you, Polly. Will you have me?” I let him back. My son needed his father—not just a stepdad. Val moved on, too, and found happiness of his own. Years passed. Alex could never quite love our son as a father should—certain he was Val’s child. Meanwhile, Alex strayed constantly, but I couldn’t stop loving him. The one who loves is always happily oblivious. I forgave everything. When we argued and Alex left, months later, I tracked him down at his new girlfriend’s flat. Turns out she had his daughter, Nancy. I always blamed myself for driving him away then—perhaps that other woman wouldn’t have swooped in if I hadn’t sent Alex away. We never mentioned Nancy. I pretended her existence didn’t threaten our family. With time, Alex settled down. Our son married young and gave us three lovely grandchildren. Then, out of the blue, Nancy resurfaced, asking us to take in her little daughter. Hard questions followed—how to explain her to our son, who never knew about his father’s past? In the end, we became guardians to five-year-old Alice. Nancy died at thirty—her journey over. Alex spoke honestly to our son, who said, “What’s past is past. The girl is family—she belongs with us.” We breathed easier, grateful for our kind-hearted son. Now Alice is sixteen, adores Granddad Alex, shares secrets with him, and calls me Nan—saying she’s the spitting image of me in my youth. And I can’t help but agree…