The story continued.
Weve decided it might be better if you lived somewhere elsewhispered Dennis at last, his own words trembling in his throat.
Somewhere else?Anna blinked, bewildered. What do you mean, my boy? Where?
Sylvia stood behind him, arms folded, face cold.
Dont worry, Mum. Weve arranged everything. Theres a lovely care home for the elderlyclean, with doctors, company, three meals a day, everything you need. Youll be far happier there than here.
Anna said nothing. Something in her chest tightened.
*Lovely home, far happier*but all she heard was:
*We dont need you anymore.*
She didnt cry. She didnt beg. She just nodded.
If it makes things easier for everyoneshe murmured.
A week later, a small brown suitcase stood by the door. Dennis helped carry it down the stairs, avoiding his mothers gaze.
Sorry, Mum. This is for the best, youll seehe mumbled.
Yes, dearAnna whispered. Easier. For you, certainly.
Outside, a fine, cold drizzle fell as the taxi stopped before a grey, two-storey building on the citys edge. The sign read: *Golden Sunset Care Home.*
Inside, the air smelled of bleach and overcooked porridge.
A middle-aged nurse waved dismissively.
Room eight. Its warm, theres a tellyand she was already walking away.
The room was small, with a single window overlooking a gnarled oak. The blanket was rough, the colours faded. Anna ran her hand over it.
*So this is it,* she thought.
In the first days, she barely spoke. She ate, slept, listened to the murmurs drifting from other roomssometimes crying, sometimes shouts. Time blurred. Morning and evening felt the same.
She was certain life had ended.
Then one day, a new face appeared in the corridor. A young woman, smiling, wearing a scarf and carrying a basket of homemade scones.
Good afternoon!she said cheerfully. Im Martha, a volunteer. Here to chat, maybe read a little. Youre Anna Parker, yes?
Yes.
The nurse told me about you. Said you used to be a teacher?
Anna nodded, surprised.
English literature. Secondary school.
How wonderful!Martha beamed. The childrens home needs someone to help the little ones with reading. Theyre behind, but so eager. Would you come with me?
Anna didnt answer at first. Her heart thudded.
Children? Teach?she asked, as if afraid to believe it.
Yes. If youd like, Ill drive you.
A week later, they rattled along in an old minibus. Beyond the window, the outskirts of London drifted pasthouses, markets, people. Anna pressed her palm to the glass and sighed softly.
The childrens home was a noisy, colourful world. Boys and girls darted down corridors, laughter and chatter filling the air. But when Anna began reading *The Secret Garden*, silence fell.
Her voice shook, but every word carried warmth. The children listened as if under a spell.
See how they hang on your every word?Martha whispered later. Theyve missed hearing someone speak to them like this.
From then on, Anna visited weekly. She helped them read, practise handwriting, told stories of life, old tales, kindness. And every time she returned to the care home, her heart felt lighter.
Months passed. One afternoon, the headmaster called her in.
Mrs. Parker, I have an offer. One of our tutors retired. The children adore you. Would you stay part-time? Theres a small room for you.
Anna was silent.
Me? But Im seventy-eight
Exactly! We need hearts like yours here. Not paperworkhumanity.
When she moved into the home, it felt like a new life beginning. The children swarmed her, shouting
Miss Anna, youre back!
She laughed, hugged them, and for the first time in years, felt truly happy.
At the old flat, Dennis scrolled through his phone one evening. An article appeared: *An Elderly Teacher Who Found Home Among Forgotten Children.*
The photo showed his mother.
Sitting among the children, holding a little boys hand, smiling.
The caption read:
*Shes the most important person to those who have no one.*
Dennis stared at the picture for a long time. Sylvia asked:
Whats wrong?
He only said:
Forgive me, Mum.
Anna never knew he spoke those words.
She simply lived onquietly, peacefully, but full of love.
And when the children brought her a drawing one daya big red heart with the words:
*Youre our heart, Miss Anna!*she knew God had taken her house only to give her a family instead.
