Poor Janitor Buys Old Doll at Flea Market, Gives it to Child & Hears Crackling Sound from It — Story of the Day

A poor janitor buys an old doll for her daughter at a flea market and hears a crackling sound as she hands it to her. What she discovers brings her to tears.

“Oh, this one’s lovely. Eve will love it!” Pauline exclaimed as she stopped by a stall where a woman was selling toys.

Pauline was a single mother to her 8-year-old daughter Eve and worked as a janitor. Her husband had died years ago due to cancer, and since then, she’d been raising Eve on her own.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

When Pauline saw the doll at the flea market, she knew it would be the best birthday present for Eve. Unfortunately, she didn’t have enough money to buy anything expensive, so looking for something at the flea market was her best option.

When Pauline decided to buy the doll, she was so preoccupied with the thoughts of Eve that she didn’t bother to inspect it. Two days later, when she gave it to Eve on her birthday, she heard a weird crackling sound coming from the doll…

A few days earlier…

“Mommy,” said Eve sadly. “Can you get me a doll?”

“Honey,” Pauline gently replied. “You know we’re on a tight budget this month. Mommy will buy you one next month. That’s a promise.”

“But mommy…” Eve’s voice began to crack. “My birthday is in two days. Did you forget about it?”

“Oh, no, no, sweetheart! Not at all!” Pauline said, but she had actually forgotten and felt terrible about it.

“Are you still not going to get me a doll? I don’t have any friends, mommy. Nobody wants to be friends with me because we are poor. That doll can be my best friend…”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“Oh honey,” Pauline hugged Eve. “I will get you the doll. Promise. Don’t be sad, ok?”

Pauline knew the kids at Eve’s school didn’t treat her well because she wasn’t as rich as them, but there wasn’t much she could do about it. Children can be cruel at times.

Present day…

Pauline was delighted after buying the doll. She couldn’t wait to give it to Eve and see her beautiful smile. The doll was one of those vintage kinds, holding a tiny baby in her arms.

“Oh, Eve will be so happy!” Pauline thought on her way back home.

***

And Eve was. The little girl’s joy knew no bounds when Pauline showed her the doll on her birthday.

Sometimes, the cause of someone’s smile is the source of another person’s grief.

“Ta-da! Mommy got the doll for Evie!” Pauline exclaimed, holding the doll in her hands. “Can mommy have a kiss for that?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“It’s so pretty! Thank you, mommy!” Eve chirped as she kissed Pauline on the cheek.

As Pauline handed over the doll to Eve, she suddenly heard a strange crackling sound.

“What was that?” Pauline wondered.

She shook the doll, holding it close to her ears, and heard the crackling again.

“Mommy! Give it here! I wanna hold my doll! Please! Please!” Eve said, excited to play with it.

“One second, honey. I think there’s something in here…”

It was then that Pauline examined the doll and found a secret pocket sewn into the doll’s outfit. She undid the loose threads around it, and a note fell from it.

Eve quickly picked it up and said, “Mommy, it says, ‘Happy Birthday, Mommy.’ It’s not your birthday! It’s my birthday! This is so silly!”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

When Pauline read the note, she noticed the message seemed like it was scribbled by a child. At that point, the thought of the woman selling the doll flashed through Pauline’s mind.

***

The next day, she returned to the flea market with the doll, and luckily, the woman’s stall was still there.

“Oh, I’m glad I found you here!” Pauline said. “I bought this doll yesterday, and I found a note inside…”

When the woman, Miriam, saw the note, her eyes welled up. “My daughter got this doll for me,” she said quietly. “She passed away two days before my birthday…My husband and I, oh, I’m sorry…” The woman covered her face as her tears started to flow.

“I’m really sorry for your loss,” Pauline said apologetically. “I had no idea. I know I can’t take away your pain, but if it helps, I can give you a hug.”

“Oh, thank you…” Miriam said. Pauline gave her a warm hug, after which Miriam revealed her sad story, which brought tears to Pauline’s eyes.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“My little daughter was diagnosed with cancer,” Miriam said. “We needed money for her chemotherapy. My husband and I work at a factory. We didn’t have enough money to cover her hospital bills, so we set up a stall here to sell our old furniture and things we didn’t need.”

“But we couldn’t save our daughter…She—she left us too soon. We’re selling her toys because every time I look at them, it just makes me sad.”

“One night, when I held my baby girl’s hand, she asked me to be happy. She had said, ‘Mumma, when I’m gone, please remember me with a smile.’ So I decided to sell the toys. She had bought that doll, saying it would remind me of her. I’m sorry I feel like I’m oversharing with you, but my heart feels really relieved today. Thank you for listening to me.”

As Miriam finished, she broke down into tears again. Pauline consoled her, and the two women talked about their lives for a while. Pauline told her how she’d been raising Eve by herself and invited her over to spend time with them.

“Eve will love to meet you,” she said. “And thank you so much for the doll. It made my daughter’s day. I’m sure your daughter is looking at you and smiling. Thank you again,” she added before she left.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

A few days later, Miriam visited Eve and Pauline at the trailer where they lived.

“This is in appreciation of your kind heart and patience in listening to me that day. I hope this helps you and Eve,” Miriam said, handing Pauline an envelope.

When Pauline opened it, she found a couple of dollar bills inside. $3000 in total. “Oh, Miriam, we can’t take this. This is a lot. No, no, this doesn’t feel right…”

“You can take it, Pauline,” Miriam insisted. “A mother’s heart knows how much it hurts when you can’t do enough for your child. We made this by selling the toys. Please keep it. If not for my sake, please keep it for Eve’s sake.”

Pauline cried. “Oh, Miriam, thank you. This will help us a lot. Thanks.”

From then on, Miriam and Pauline became friends, and Miriam loved and spoiled Eve too much. But the best part was that Pauline and Eve’s company helped Miriam heal and move on from her loss.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

What can we learn from this story?

  • Help someone in need, and you’ll never regret it. Pauline and Miriam helped each other in whatever way they could. That helped Miriam overcome her grief, and Pauline and Eve found someone who cherished their company.
  • Sometimes, the cause of someone’s smile is the source of another person’s grief. Sadly, the doll which made Eve happy on her birthday was a reminder of Miriam’s sad past.

Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.

I arrived home to find my kids sleeping in the hallway — seeing what my husband had turned their bedroom into while I was gone drove me wild with angerPhoto of admin admin3 weeks ago0 616 7 minutes read

After a week away, I came home to the strange and unsettling sight of my kids sleeping on the cold hallway floor. Heart pounding, I searched for answers, only to find my husband missing and odd noises coming from the kids’ room. What I uncovered next left me furious — and ready for a fight!

I’d been away on a business trip for a week, and let me tell you, I was itching to get home. My boys, Tommy and Alex, were probably bouncing off the walls waiting for me.

I mean, a week is practically forever when you’re 6 and 8. And Mark? Well, I figured he’d be glad to hand the reins back to me. He’s a great dad, don’t get me wrong, but he’s always been more of the fun parent than the responsible one.

As I pulled into our driveway at midnight, I couldn’t help but grin. The house was dark and quiet, just as it should be at this ungodly hour.

I grabbed my suitcase and tiptoed to the front door, keys jingling softly in my hand.

The lock clicked open, and I stepped inside, ready to collapse into bed. But something was… wrong.

My foot hit something soft, and I froze. Heart pounding, I fumbled for the light switch. When the hall lit up, I almost screamed.

Tommy and Alex were sprawled out on the floor, tangled up in blankets like a couple of puppies. They were fast asleep, but their faces were smudged with dirt, and their hair was sticking up in all directions.

“What the hell?” I whispered, my mind racing. Had there been a fire? A gas leak? Why weren’t they in their beds?

I crept past them, afraid to wake them up until I knew what was going on. The living room was a disaster zone, littered with pizza boxes, soda cans, and what looked suspiciously like melted ice cream on the coffee table. But no sign of Mark.

My heart was doing the cha-cha in my chest as I made my way to our bedroom. Empty.

The bed was still made, like it hadn’t been slept in today. Mark’s car was in the driveway, so where was he?

That’s when I heard it. A faint, muffled sound coming from the boys’ room. I tiptoed over, my imagination running wild. Was Mark hurt? Had some psycho broken in and tied him up?

I pushed the door open, inch by inch, and…

“What. The. Actual—” I bit my tongue, remembering the kids were just down the hall.

There was Mark, headphones on, controller in hand, surrounded by empty energy drink cans and snack wrappers. But that wasn’t even the craziest part.

The boys’ room had been transformed into some kind of gamer paradise. A massive TV took up one wall, there were LED lights everywhere, and I’m pretty sure that monstrosity in the corner was a mini-fridge.

I stood there, mouth hanging open, as the rage built up inside me like a volcano about to blow. Mark hadn’t even noticed me yet, too engrossed in whatever game he was playing.

I stomped over and yanked the headphones off his head. “Mark! What the hell is going on?”

He blinked at me, looking dazed. “Oh, hey babe. You’re home early.”

“Early? It’s midnight! Why are our children sleeping on the floor?”

He shrugged, reaching for his controller again. “Oh, it’s fine. The boys were happy sleeping outside. They thought it was an adventure.”

I snatched the controller away. “An adventure? They’re not camping, Mark! They’re sleeping on our dirty hallway floor!”

“Come on, don’t be such a buzzkill,” he said, trying to grab the controller back. “Everything’s under control. I’ve been feeding them and stuff.”

“Feeding them? You mean the pizza boxes and ice cream in the living room?” I could feel my blood pressure rising with every word. “And what about baths? Or, I don’t know, their actual beds?”

Mark rolled his eyes. “They’re fine, Sarah. Lighten up a bit.”

That’s when I lost it.

“Lighten up? LIGHTEN UP? Our children are sleeping on the floor like animals while you play video games in their room! What is wrong with you?”

“Nothing’s wrong with me,” he huffed. “I’m just trying to have a little me-time. Is that so terrible?”

I took a deep breath, trying not to scream. “You know what? We’re not doing this right now. Go put the boys in their beds. Now.”

“But I’m in the middle of—”

“NOW, Mark!”

He grumbled but got up, shuffling past me.

I watched him pick up Tommy, who stirred a little but didn’t wake up. As Mark carried him to bed, I couldn’t help but think how alike they looked: one actual child and the man acting like one.

I scooped up Alex, my heart breaking a little at how dirty his face was. As I tucked him into bed, I made a decision. If Mark wanted to act like a child, then that’s exactly how I’d treat him.

The next morning, I put my plan into action.

While Mark was in the shower, I snuck into the man cave he’d created and unplugged everything. Then I got to work.

When he came downstairs, hair still wet, I was waiting for him with a big smile. “Good morning, sweetie! I made you breakfast!”

He looked at me suspiciously. “Uh, thanks?”

I set a plate in front of him. In the middle was a Mickey Mouse-shaped pancake with a smiley face made of fruit. His coffee was in a sippy cup.

“What’s this?” he asked, poking at the pancake.

“It’s your breakfast, silly! Now eat up, we have a big day ahead of us!”

After breakfast, I unveiled my masterpiece, a giant, colorful chore chart plastered on the fridge. “Look what I made for you!”

Mark’s eyes widened. “What the hell is that?”

“Language!” I scolded. “It’s your very own chore chart! See? You can earn gold stars for cleaning your room, doing the dishes, and putting away your toys!”

“My toys? Sarah, what are you—”

I cut him off. “Oh, and don’t forget! We have a new house rule. All screens off by 9 p.m. sharp. That includes your phone, mister!”

Mark’s face went from confused to angry. “Are you kidding me? I’m a grown man, I don’t need—”

“Ah, ah, ah!” I wagged my finger. “No arguing, or you’ll have to go to the timeout corner!”

For the next week, I stuck to my guns. Every night at 9, I’d shut off the Wi-Fi and unplug his gaming console.

I even tucked him into bed with a glass of milk and read him “Goodnight Moon” in my most soothing voice.

His meals were served on plastic plates with little dividers. I cut his sandwiches into dinosaur shapes and gave him animal crackers for snacks. When he complained, I’d say things like, “Use your words, honey. Big boys don’t whine.”

The chore chart was a particular point of contention. Every time he completed a task, I’d make a big show of giving him a gold star.

“Look at you, putting your laundry away all by yourself! Mommy’s so proud!”

He’d grit his teeth and mutter, “I’m not a child, Sarah.”

To which I’d reply, “Of course not, sweetie. Now, who wants to help make cookies?”

The breaking point came about a week into my little experiment. Mark had just been sent to the timeout corner for throwing a fit about his two-hour screen time limit. He sat there, fuming, while I calmly set the kitchen timer.

“This is ridiculous!” he exploded. “I’m a grown man, for God’s sake!”

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Are you sure about that? Because grown men don’t make their children sleep on the floor so they can play video games all night.”

He deflated a little. “Okay, okay, I get it! I’m sorry!”

I studied him for a moment. He did look genuinely remorseful, but I wasn’t going to let him off the hook when I had one last blow to deliver.

“Oh, I accept your apology,” I said sweetly. “But I’ve already called your mom…”

The color drained from his face. “You didn’t.”

Right on cue, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to reveal Mark’s mother, looking every bit the disappointed parent.

“Mark!” she bellowed, marching into the house. “Did you really make my sweeties sleep on the floor so you could play your little games?”

Mark looked like he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole. “Mom, it’s not… I mean, I didn’t…”

She turned to me, her face softening. “Sarah, dear, I’m so sorry you had to deal with this. I thought I raised him better than that.”

I patted her arm. “It’s not your fault, Linda. Some boys just take longer to grow up than others.”

Mark’s face was beet red. “Mom, please. I’m 35 years old!”

Linda ignored him, turning back to me. “Well, not to worry. I’ve cleared my schedule for the next week. I’ll whip this boy back into shape in no time!”

As Linda bustled off to the kitchen, muttering about the state of the dishes, I caught Mark’s eye. He looked utterly defeated.

“Sarah,” he said quietly. “I really am sorry. I was selfish and irresponsible. It won’t happen again.”

I softened a little. “I know, honey. But when I’m away, I need to know you’ve got things under control. The boys need a father, not another playmate.”

He nodded, looking ashamed. “You’re right. I’ll do better, I promise.”

I smiled and gave him a quick kiss. “I know you will. Now, why don’t you go help your mother with the dishes? If you do a good job, maybe we can have ice cream for dessert.”

As Mark trudged off to the kitchen, I couldn’t help but feel a little smug. Lesson learned, I hoped. And if not… well, I still had that timeout corner ready and waiting.

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