Dolly Parton is one of the most well-known performers in the country music scene and has been for many years. She has long been recognized for her melodic voice, inventive lyrics, and distinct sound.
Her career started when her first album, “Hello, I’m Dolly,” came out in 1967. Since then, she’s had a lot of hits, like “Jolene,” “9 to 5”, and “Coat of Many Colors.”
Also, Parton wrote and sang the epic ballad “I Will Always Love You” in 1973. Whitney Houston made the song famous in 1992.
Parton is a businesswoman, actress, author, and humanitarian, in addition to being a singer-songwriter. She has used her influence to benefit society through her music and shows.
She has always gone out of her way to be an inspiring role model for many individuals worldwide. Dolly Parton’s influence on music will last for a long time because she is such a talented artist who stands out from other country musicians.
Dolly Parton grew up in poverty and trouble. She was born on January 19, 1946, in Tennessee, the fourth of twelve children, and grew up in a one-room cabin on the banks of the Little Pigeon River with her parents and siblings.
Her father was a sharecropper without education, while her mother was of Welsh origin. “We were dirt poor but wonderfully joyful,” Parton later stated of her family. Despite their absence of material belongings, they were overjoyed and filled with love.
Parton fell in love with music when she was young, thanks to the stories and ballads her mother told her. Parton was determined to make a name for herself, so when she graduated from high school, she moved to Nashville to start a music career.
Parton’s dedication eventually made her one of country music’s most famous musicians. Many people named her the 2021 Person of the Year for all she has accomplished as a true icon.
Parton has also done a lot of charity work for her career, which shows how much she cares about other people.
She thinks that giving back will help others who are going through similar difficulties achieve success as she did despite their terrible circumstances.Dolly Parton reflected on her humble beginnings growing up in a low-income family.
Although meals were limited, and they frequently slept three to a bed, her parents could put a roof over their heads, food in their stomachs, and clothes on their backs for their children.
Despite their lack of financial resources, they were surrounded by others who suffered far harder than they did.
The family’s modest cabin was barely big enough for them, so they spent most of their time outside. When she was eight, Dolly first saw a toilet when visiting her aunt’s house. She was initially scared to use it since she thought it would suck her down!
During the winter, the family made their soap and bathed once a week, and during high school, she had to wash her bed every day because her brothers left it dirty at night.
Dolly Parton, who grew up in poverty and had a rough childhood, has always remembered the lessons she learned from her family.
She brings up these recollections when discussing her music and other elements of her life. “My love for my family will never end,” she adds, adding that it “is always there and directs me in whatever I do.”
Her fortune is reported to be approximately $375 million, but she continues to donate to charity. Parton founded the Dollywood Foundation in 1988, initially granting scholarships to students at the high school she attended.
However, it has expanded to include many more schools and deserving instructors. This foundation is just one example of Parton’s generosity; it demonstrates how deeply she cares about helping others less lucky than herself.
Dolly Parton’s Imagination Library was a remarkable initiative created by the artist in 1995 as an homage to her late father. It began in Tennessee but quickly spread around the country, delivering over 1.3 million books to over two million children each month.
The effort reached an extraordinary milestone in 2018 when the 100 millionth book was distributed, something Parton confessed she could never have thought would happen.
She added that it all felt like destiny and that she had planned for it to be a unique project dedicated to her father’s home county and the surrounding areas.
Parton’s kindness shows up when things go wrong, like when she set up the My People Fund after the devastating Great Smoky Mountains wildfires in 2016. More than $9 million was raised to help 900 families affected by the disaster.
Parton also gave a lot of money to Vanderbilt University Medical Center after her niece got treatment there for leukemia.
Dolly Parton has been incredibly generous throughout her life and business. She has donated to several causes, including the American Red Cross, HIV/AIDS charities, and animal rights organizations.
Parton also became a prominent champion for Covid vaccines in 2020, donating $1 million to help create the Moderna vaccine.
Parton’s giving comes effortlessly, and she is deeply committed to it. She once stated in an interview that she is “addicted to the sensation of giving” and enjoys “knowing that I’m making a difference in the lives of others.”
Dolly Parton’s caring attitude and upbringing have significantly influenced her philanthropy – her generosity has been essential in making charitable contributions to better the communities around her.
Because of her kind donations, many people and groups have been able to make significant contributions to important causes, which we are grateful for.
Dolly Parton’s compassion, kindness, and help for people who are less lucky than us will inspire others.
City Woman Tried to Ruin My Life, but Losing Her Memory Changed Everything — Story of the Day
A wealthy stranger showed up uninvited, demanding my farm as if it were hers to take. He dismissed my family’s legacy as worthless. I refused, but his entitled smirk told me this fight was far from over.
The morning air was carrying the faint scent of tilled soil and wildflowers. The farm stretched before me, rolling fields kissed by the rising sun. Every corner whispered a memory: Dad hammering the first fencepost, Mom planting lilacs by the barn.
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Suddenly, a low hum broke the silence. I frowned, tilting my head. The sound grew louder. A car engine. Not a truck or the familiar rattle of my brother Steven’s old sedan. Squinting, I saw a sleek, black car gliding down the dirt road.
“Great,” I muttered under my breath.
Then, the woman appeared. She was tall, elegant, and looked like she’d been dropped off from another planet. Her suit screamed money, and not a single strand of her perfectly styled hair dared move in the breeze.
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“Are you the owner of this farm?” Her voice was the kind that didn’t waste time with pleasantries.
“Yes. Why?”
“I am Sophia. I own the surrounding properties. I’m here to buy yours.”
“It’s not for sale.”
“Not for sale? Once my resort opens, this… farm will be worthless.”
“It’s my family’s land.”
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She scoffed. “Sentimental and stubborn. What a combination. We’re not finished here.”
Her car door slammed, and she drove off, leaving behind a cloud of dust. I stood on the porch, gripping my coffee mug tighter. I felt something coming.
***
The next day, I stepped outside, expecting the quiet start of my usual chores. Instead, chaos greeted me like an unwelcome guest. Chickens darted across the yard, squawking in panic. Goats were hopping over fences like it was some sort of barnyard Olympics.
Who let the animals out?
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Then I saw her. Sophia.
She was perched precariously on a ladder by the barn, her hands busy with one of the old shutters. But her outfit… A sleek black dress and designer heels that had no business being anywhere near a farm.
“What are you doing up there?” I marched closer.
“Improving the aesthetic!” she shot back, not even turning her head.
Suddenly, the ladder wobbled.
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“Sophia…”
Her arms flailed, and for a brief, ridiculous moment, she looked like a very glamorous windmill. Then gravity won. She tumbled to the ground in a heap of expensive fabric.
I rushed over, kneeling beside her. “Are you okay?”
Her eyes fluttered open, but the vacant, confused look in them made my stomach drop.
“Who… are you?” she whispered.
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***
At the hospital, the doctor adjusted his glasses. Sophia sat on the exam table, staring blankly at me. She looked… lost.
The doctor turned to me. “Are you a relative?”
“Oh, no, I’m not…” I started, but then I stopped.
Relative…
I looked at Sophia again, her confusion evident in her distant stare. The doctor was still watching me, waiting for an answer, but my thoughts raced ahead.
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What if I say yes? What if I tell him we are family?
A voice in my head immediately protested. It wasn’t true. It wasn’t right. But then another thought slid in. Maybe that is fate’s way of teaching her something.
The silence stretched, and the doctor raised an eyebrow. “Miss?”
“Yes,” I said. “She’s my sister.”
The words sounded strange, leaving my mouth, but once they were out, I couldn’t take them back.
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Sophia turned to me. “Sister?”
“Yes,” I said quickly, stepping closer. “You’ve been staying with me at the farm with me and Steven.”
She blinked. “I… I don’t remember.”
On the drive back to the farm, I couldn’t help but smile faintly to myself. That was a mess of my own making, no doubt about it. But it was going to be one heck of a ride.
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***
The first morning with Sophia on the farm started with cautious optimism—and spiraled into chaos faster than I could have predicted.
“Okay, Sophia,” I said, handing her a small wooden stool and a pail. “Milking a cow is simple. You just have to…”
“Simple?” she cut in, her voice teetering between disbelief and dread. “Do you see these hands? These nails?”
What followed was a symphony of frustrated groans and a bucket that stayed empty. Sophia finally stood, tossing her hands in the air.
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“This cow hates me. She’s mocking me with her… her smug mooing!”
“Move on to the chickens,” I suggested, hiding a smirk.
She stormed toward the chicken coop, muttering under her breath. Moments later, a screech pierced the air. I ran over to find her flailing her arms as chickens scattered, their wings flapping wildly.
“They’re attacking me!” she shouted, diving behind a bale of hay.
“They’re chickens, not velociraptors. Just grab the eggs and get out.”
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The goats, sensing fresh prey, were next. They circled her like tiny, mischievous sharks, tugging at her scarf and nibbling the hem of her jacket.
By midday, Sophia looked like she’d survived a barnyard apocalypse. Her once-perfect outfit was smeared with dirt, and her hands scratched.
“I can’t do this,” she said, collapsing onto the porch. I saw tears welling up in her eyes. “I’m not made for… whatever this is.”
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“This is your life.”
She shook her head, disbelief etched into her face. Watching her sit there, exhausted and defeated, I felt a twinge of pity, but not for long.
You think you can waltz in, tear this place apart, and reshape it into your vision without understanding it? No.
You’re going to feel what life here is like. You’re going to understand why it’s worth protecting.
***
Steven arrived later that afternoon and quickly jumped in to help.
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“Come on,” he said to Sophia, handing her a pitchfork. “You’ll feel better once you accomplish something. Let’s start with the chicken coop.”
To my surprise, she followed him, earning a reluctant smile from Sophia.
Over the next few days, Steven stuck around, teaching her how to carry hay bales, clean stalls, and wrangle the goats without losing her mind or her scarf.
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By the end of the week, there were small victories. Sophia even cooked breakfast for us one morning. Granted, her pancakes looked more like hockey pucks, but we ate them anyway, laughing until tears streamed down our faces.
***
At the end of the week, I decided Sophia needed a break. Life on the farm had been hard on her, and I figured a little fun might do her some good. We hosted a barbecue, inviting neighbors to join us.
To my surprise, Sophia joined in.
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“This is amazing!” she said, biting into a piece of corn on the cob. “I didn’t know food could taste this fresh.”
I laughed. “Welcome to the real deal.”
A group of kids called out to her as they ran toward the lake. “Sophia, come swim with us!”
“Oh no,” she said, backing away, hands raised. “Swimming is not my thing.”
Steven, carrying a plate of burgers, chimed in. “What’s the matter? Afraid you’ll ruin your makeup?”
“I’m not wearing any!” she shot back, tossing her hair dramatically.
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“Then you’ve got no excuse. Go on, they won’t bite.”
The kids tugged at her hands, and with a resigned laugh, she let them drag her to the water. Minutes later, I saw her wading in, splashing around with the kind of carefree energy I’d never imagined from her.
“Never thought I’d see the day,” Sreven said, shaking his head.
As the evening wore on, Sophia drifted back toward the fire.
“You’ve adjusted pretty well,” Steven said, glancing at her. “I didn’t think you’d last a day out here, to be honest.”
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“Wait..” Sophia said, pulling the blanket tighter around her. “But… I’ve been living here all the time.”
He chuckled. “Oh, yes, I almost forgot that you are… um, my sister.”
As I stood by the fire, listening to their exchange, Steven’s words hit me like a jolt.
A pang of doubt wormed its way into my thoughts. I couldn’t ignore the way Steven looked at her. They had a connection that was undeniably growing, but my lie…
What have I done? How long before the messy truth catches up with me?
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Suddenly, a black car pulled up, and as the woman stepped out, her piercing gaze fixed on Sophia. Whoever she was, she hadn’t driven all the way for nothing.
I felt the tension crackle through the air like an approaching storm. The woman was overdressed as though she were attending a red carpet event instead of stepping onto a farm. Her stiletto heels sank into the dirt with each step, and she paused to examine the ground, wrinkling her nose in open disdain.
“Sophia, we are going home,” she said.
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Sofia looked up from her plate of grilled chicken, her face smudged with dirt.
“What are you wearing? And… what is that on your face?”
I stepped forward. “Ma’am, I think we need to talk.”
Her eyes snapped to me. “I am Sophia’s mother. And who, exactly, are you?”
“I’m the owner of this farm. Sofia’s been staying with me. She lost her memory after an accident…”
“You what?! You’ve been keeping my daughter here?”
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Her shrill accusations echoed across the yard, silencing the neighbors. All eyes turned to us.
“It wasn’t like that. I told her she was family. I thought…”
“You thought?” she spat. “You thought you had the right to lie to my daughter? To keep her here, away from her life, her family? Do you have any idea who she is? This farm is nothing compared to the world she belongs in!”
As if triggered by those words, Sofia stiffened. The warmth in her eyes disappeared, replaced by a cold, distant look.
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She turned to me. “I’ve remembered everything now. You’ve been lying to me.”
By the time she left with her mother that night, it was as if the Sofia we had known on the farm had never existed.
***
The days that followed were unbearably quiet. Her absence filled the house like a heavy shadow. I missed her clumsy attempts at chores, her dry humor, and even her dramatic outbursts. For the first time, the farm felt… empty.
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I found her business card while packing up the belongings she’d left behind. An address in the city stared back at me, daring me to do something.
In a few hours, I arrived at her office and braced myself for rejection. The receptionist informed Sofia of my arrival. Within minutes, she appeared.
To my shock, she hugged me tightly, tears slipping down her cheeks.
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“I’m sorry. For everything. For who I was.”
I pulled back slightly, searching her face. “Why now?”
She smiled faintly. “Because I miss it. The simplicity, the honesty. And most of all, I miss Steven.”
We returned to the farm together. That time, Sofia wasn’t just a visitor. She was family. She and Steven built a life here, one full of love, laughter, and the kind of grounding no luxury resort could ever provide.
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: On my wedding day, everything seemed perfect until my past walked into the ceremony uninvited. A promise made years ago and a man determined to remind me of it threatened to unravel the life I’d built. Could I let go of the past, or would it destroy my future? Read the full story here.
This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.
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