Elsie just wants Josh, her grandson, to meet someone with whom he can consider settling down. When a young new teacher enrolls at her kindergarten, she thinks that she has hit the jackpot. But when Josh meets Allison, Elsie learns that they already have a connection.
I’m a meddling grandmother. Not in a bad way — I just want my grandson Josh to move along with his life. He’s 27 and spends most of his time at work or gaming.
During weekends, he stays at home, working on something around the house, or gaming.
“You need to get out more, Josh,” I said. “I want you to live your life to the fullest! Don’t you want to meet someone?”
“I get it, Gran,” he would say, pausing his game. “But I’m just not interested in that at the moment. Work is taking up all my time and energy, and I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”
“You’re not getting any younger,” I said, handing him chips to snack on.
“It’s because you’re surrounded by kids all day, so you just want great-grandchildren,” he laughed.
Josh wasn’t wrong. I was a kindergarten teacher, and I loved every moment of it. But I was done with the life of raising children away from their homes. Now, at 70, I wanted a quiet life of knitting and baking — a soft life, as Josh put it.
I’m leaving my position at the school at the end of the year. And maybe it’s just maternal instinct, but I wanted to know that Josh would be okay and not so alone.
A few months ago, we welcomed a new teacher at the kindergarten, Allison.
She was a few years younger than Josh, and I loved having her around during the day. So, of course, I thought about setting her up with him.
But I knew my grandson — Josh would never agree to an arranged date. He probably wouldn’t even show up.
The next best thing was to invite Allison over for dinner, where Josh would be forced to meet her.
“Alli,” I said to her one day during school. “Would you like to come over for dinner?”
“Yes! Of course, I would, Mrs. Barnard,” she said. “Since moving here, I’ve really missed family dinners. This will be great.”
I arranged for Allison to come over for dinner on a Friday evening. She went on and on about coming early to help with the cooking or bringing things over.
“Please just let me help, Mrs. Barnard,” she pleaded, as she helped me put the toys away one afternoon.
“You can bring dessert,” I told her. “And call me Elsie.”
I loved her.
And I knew that she would complement Josh well.
But nothing on earth could have prepared me for the connection between Josh and Allison.
That evening, as I was setting the table, Josh walked in.
“What’s this about?” he asked, nodding to the table.
“We’re having a new teacher over for dinner, okay?” I said, putting the cutlery in place.
“Sure, do you need me to help you?” he asked.
Allison arrived, her presence a breath of fresh air, carrying a cake with her.
She hugged me at the door and made herself at home — while Josh was still in his bedroom.
And then, the entire evening was turned upside down.
“Allison?” Josh’s voice came from the doorway, a mix of disbelief and an inexplicable hint of recognition.
“Josh?” Allison answered, her eyes wide. “Mrs. Barnard, this is your grandson? Josh?”
Confusion wrapped the room like a thick fog.
“Wait, you two know each other?” I asked, my heart racing at the possibilities of their connection.
“Yeah, Gran,” Josh said, sitting down.
“How?” I pressed on. We were past the niceties; I needed to know more.
“Allison is my sister,” he declared, each word resonating with the weight of a thousand unspoken stories.
The room fell silent.
“Explain, please,” I told Josh.
Josh isn’t my biological grandson. In fact, I had spent years of my life wanting a child, but I struggled with personal relationships. So, when I was 48, I took the plunge and went to an orphanage.
That’s where I met Josh. He was 5 years old and was a survivor of an accident in which his parents had died.
“Elsie,” Mandy, the social worker, said. “He’s a great kid! He’s curious, charming, and polite as ever. He just needs a chance to get out of here and live.”
When I met him, he was a scared little boy who had lost the most important people to him.
“What about the rest of his family?” I asked. “Wouldn’t they come looking?”
“There isn’t anyone else,” Mandy said. “We’ve searched. Which is why he had to be separated from his sister, too. She was adopted three weeks ago.”
“And the family didn’t want to take Josh?” I asked.
“Sadly, no,” Mandy admitted. “They just wanted the youngest child we had, so that they could have as much of her childhood as possible.”
In the end, despite my asking for more information about Josh’s sister, there was just no way such confidential information could be given out.
I adopted Josh as his grandmother because I was already going gray, and I didn’t want anyone to ask him why his mother was so old.
Eventually, on his 15th birthday, I told him the truth about the adoption — but nothing about his sister because I just didn’t have the information.
So, Josh has known the truth — or as much of the truth as possible.
“Tell me,” I pressed on.
“Gran, after you told me the truth about me being adopted, I felt settled. I mean, you had chosen me, after all. But I just felt that there was more to the story, you know?”
I nodded. I didn’t want to interrupt him. But I would choose this boy every single time.
“So, a few months ago, I went back to the orphanage, and I was told about a sister — Allison. And they were able to give me information because we were biological siblings.”
“And then, Josh found me on Facebook,” Allison chimed in. “We’ve been talking for a while. Although, he didn’t tell me the truth at first.”
“Well, I didn’t know if you knew the truth or not,” Josh retorted. “I couldn’t just say that I found your details in an old file at an orphanage.”
“I didn’t think that our first meeting would happen here, in your home,” Allison said.
“I think we need some dinner,” I said, waking up to get the food.
As we sat down at the table, I silently observed Josh and Allison’s reunion. I had absolutely no idea that there was a possibility that they could have known each other, let alone be siblings.
Josh ate quietly, processing his thoughts while he chewed. Allison’s eyes were glazed over — I wondered what she was thinking, and whether she was okay.
“Gran, why did you invite Allison over?” Josh asked, pouring more wine.
“Because I wanted to play matchmaker,” I said honestly.
Allison started giggling, and soon the room echoed with laughter.
The sense of awkwardness that had initially overwhelmed me transformed into a profound joy — I had hoped to bring love into Josh’s life, never imagining it would come in the form of a sister’s bond long severed by fate.
But their roles in each other’s lives were restored.
Later, when Allison took it upon herself to do the dishes, Josh and I stood outside.
“I can’t believe this,” Josh whispered, his voice cracking with emotion as he turned to me.
“I’m as surprised as you are,” I said, looking at the night sky.
“You’ve given me so much,” he said. “And now, you’ve unknowingly brought Allison back. We’ve been talking, but neither of us had the courage to actually meet.”
The rest of the night unfolded with stories of childhood memories lost and found, of heartaches and hope, and the unshakeable bond of family.
As I lay in bed that night, the house quiet once more, I couldn’t help but feel that their meeting was predestined by some other force.
At least now, Allison will be in Josh’s life, in some capacity or another.
After Trashman Babysat My Kids for 25 Minutes, I Decided to Hire Him as Full-Time Nanny — Story of the Day
A doctor was called for an emergency at the hospital and didn’t have anyone to leave her three kids with, but suddenly, she saw the garbageman and got an idea. She couldn’t believe her eyes when she returned home.
“Now? Are you sure Dr. Morris is not available?” I asked Nurse Carey on the phone, although I was already changing my clothes and thinking hard.
“No, Dr. Sanders. Dr. Morris is currently driving across state lines trying to get here. You live close by, so I thought I would call. The interns have no idea what they’re doing. I know it’s your day off, but I didn’t know what else to do. Will you be able to come?” Nurse Carey said, trying not to sound worried, but I knew they needed me.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“I’ll be there as soon as I can. I just need to find a babysitter,” I replied and hung up, immediately dialing Vicky, who was the only person who could somewhat handle my three crazy kids.
I’ve been a surgeon for a long time, but I used to have my husband, Peter. My rock. He became a stay-at-home dad when the realities of having three children became too much. But he passed away from a sudden heart attack while I was in the middle of another surgery.
My entire house… wait, was this my house? It couldn’t be.
Now, I had to constantly find babysitters for the children when unexpected emergencies happened. I couldn’t handle them. I had no patience, and it was silly to think that any babysitter would be able to handle them either. Two babysitters quit after one day of work, and word got around that my kids Johnny, 9, Christie, 7, and Lucy, 3, were menaces.
I mean… they were not wrong. But they didn’t have to put me in this position. Now, only Vicky ever said yes. Usually, I paid through the roof for the local daycare center when I was scheduled regularly at work, but I couldn’t rush them in today. It was already noon on a Friday, and I would feel bad sending them.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“I’m sorry, Opal. I can’t babysit today. I’m sick and can barely move,” Vicky said when I called. I told her to get some rest and hung up the phone. I hated the staff at the hospital daycare, and they hated me in return. But I was out of ideas. I would have to wrangle with my children and go there.
But suddenly, I heard all the kids yelling, “Uncle Bob! Uncle Bob!”
I sighed. They didn’t have an uncle. The local garbageman was so friendly and sweet that they started calling him uncle as soon as they could speak. I had known him for over ten years, and my kids adored him.
Johnny opened the front door, and all my babies went outside to greet him. I might have to call the hospital, I thought. I was never going to get those kids back into the house to be dressed on time.
But I did smile at the sight of them playing with Bob. My kids had turned into devils when their father died. The therapist said it was normal and would pass, but I wasn’t so sure. I felt like a failure. Like my mothering instincts were faulty or something. I didn’t know what to do.
But as I watched the kids hug and ask Uncle Bob to play, I had an idea. “That’s it,” I told myself and ran to Bob.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Bob, I have a crazy request. I know you’re busy. But I was wondering if you would babysit my kids for 25 minutes. I have to check something urgent at the hospital, and I have no one else,” I begged, and my kids looked at me with wide eyes filled with happiness.
“Sure, Dr. Sanders. I can watch them for a while,” he replied, nodding and smiling. My children jumped and cheered.
“They’re more than a handful, though. I’m warning you,” I said sheepishly.
“Don’t worry. You go ahead. Your job is important,” he told me, and I ran off, hoping my house would not be entirely destroyed by the time I returned.
The situation took more than 25 minutes, as Dr. Morris got stuck in traffic, and the patient became even more urgent. I was rushed into an operating room, and I couldn’t get away until three hours later. I felt so bad for Bob, who obviously had his own work to finish.
I drove home as quickly as I could. “Bob! Bob! I’m sorry!” I yelled breathlessly as I opened my door, but I froze.
My entire house… wait, was this my house? It couldn’t be. My house was always littered with toys, crayons, paper, and sometimes smears of peanut butter. I know. Gross. Don’t judge me.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Dr. Sanders, how was your surgery? Everything alright?” Bob asked as he appeared from the hallway.
“What happened here? My house… is unrecognizable. And why aren’t the kids screaming and running around?” I asked, so confused and shocked.
“Lucy is napping, and Christie and Johnny are in their rooms, reading,” he told me, and I swear, my jaw hit the floor.
“What? Are you kidding me?”
“No, go see.”
I had to go, and my eyes couldn’t believe it either. But Bob had told me the truth. “How did you do this?”
“Oh, Dr. Sanders. I was a single father raising kids once. Mine were ten times worse than these three angels,” Bob laughed. “I taught them to pick up after themselves and narrated them fairy tales. Your kids ate that up. You might want to buy them more books.”
I nodded, starstruck. No one in my life had ever called my kids “angels,” and they had never been interested in the few books I got. “I can’t believe it,” I whispered.
“It was easy. But now I have to go,” Bob said, picking up his work jacket from the back of a chair.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pe
“Oh, yes. I’m so sorry about being late. I’m so embarrassed,” I said, touching my forehead. “I’ll pay you triple for that.”
“No. No. I don’t need money,” Bob shook his head, raising his hands.
“Please. For your time,” I insisted with my stern look. People at the hospital were afraid of that look, so I knew Bob would not be able to reject the money.
“Ok, I’ll treat the kids to something nice,” he laughed. “Goodbye, Dr. Sanders. Have a nice day!”
“Thank you!” I yelled out, exhausted.
***
My kids behaved for the rest of the day, and I almost cried. It was the best day ever.
So, I called Bob and offered him a full-time nanny job, tripling his current salary and adding more health benefits since I had connections at the hospital. He accepted in the end, and I was so thankful that I gave him a Christmas bonus and plane tickets to his family could visit Disneyland in California later that year.
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