For Nancy her son Henry was everything, she never imagined her life without him. It had been 23 years since the horrible accident that took Henry’s life. Every year on that day, she took his favorite pie to his grave to honor his memory. But this year, everything was about to change.
For 23 years, Nancy, now 61, never missed a single day on this date. She baked her late son’s favorite pie and took it to his grave every year since.
The pie, a simple yet delicious apple and cinnamon creation, had been Henry’s favorite since childhood.
The scent of apples and cinnamon brought back memories of when Henry was little, running into the kitchen, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the pie.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
It was his favorite dessert, and baking it had become a tradition they both cherished.
Since Henry’s tragic accident at 17, this ritual had been Nancy’s way of keeping his memory alive.
It gave her a sense of connection to him, like she was still doing something special for her boy. Losing him had been the hardest thing she had ever gone through. The pain of that day never left her.
Even though the years had passed, her grief remained, only softened by time and the small comfort this tradition brought her.
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On this particular day, just like every year before, Nancy carefully carried the freshly baked pie to the graveyard.
The weight of the dish felt heavier, as it always did when she walked toward Henry’s resting place. The grave was neat and covered in flowers, a sign of how much he was still loved.
The stone had become smoother over the years, as she had often run her fingers over it, lost in her memories.
Nancy knelt, placing the pie gently on the gravestone. Her heart ached as she began to speak, her voice quiet, as though Henry might somehow hear her.
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“Henry, I hope you’re at peace, my love. I miss you every day. I baked your favorite pie again. Remember how we used to bake it together? You’d always sneak a taste before it was done.”
She smiled, but her eyes were misty with tears. “I wish we could do that one more time.”
The familiar sorrow welled up inside her, but Nancy had learned over the years to push through the tears.
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She wiped her eyes quickly and managed a small smile. After a few more moments of silence, she kissed her fingers and touched the top of the gravestone as she said her quiet goodbye.
Then, with a heavy but comforted heart, she turned and walked away, knowing she’d be back next year, just like always.
The next day, as part of her routine, Nancy made her way back to Henry’s grave to clean up the remains of the pie.
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Usually, by the time she returned, the pie was either untouched or spoiled by the weather, a quiet reminder of her son’s absence.
She had always found it a bittersweet comfort, knowing the pie stayed where she left it as if waiting for him.
But today, as she approached the grave, something felt different. Nancy’s heart skipped a beat when she saw that the plate was clean—completely empty. For a moment, she stood frozen in disbelief.
Then, she noticed something else. Resting on the plate was a small piece of paper, folded in half.
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Nancy’s hands trembled as she picked up the note. Her breath caught in her throat as she unfolded it.
The handwriting was shaky, as though whoever had written it had struggled to form the letters. The simple words read: “Thank you.”
Her heart pounded with confusion and anger.
“Who would take Henry’s pie?” she muttered under her breath, clutching the note tightly. “This was for my son. No one had the right to touch it!”
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Her private ritual, her way of honoring and remembering her son, had been invaded by a stranger.
She felt violated, as if someone had stolen a piece of her grief.
With her emotions swirling—part outrage, part confusion—Nancy left the cemetery, her mind set on finding the person who had taken her son’s pie. She had to know who had done this, and why.
Determined to catch the culprit, Nancy decided she would take matters into her own hands. She couldn’t let someone continue to disturb the way she honored Henry. So, she devised a plan.
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That night, she baked another of Henry’s favorite pies, the same apple and cinnamon recipe she had been making for over two decades.
The next morning, with renewed resolve, she placed the freshly baked pie on Henry’s grave, just like before, but this time she wasn’t leaving.
She found a large oak tree nearby and hid behind it, close enough to see the grave but far enough to not be noticed.
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The warm aroma of the pie drifted through the air, filling the quiet cemetery.
Time passed slowly as Nancy watched and waited, her heart racing in anticipation.
An hour later, she spotted movement. A small figure cautiously approached the grave. Nancy squinted, leaning forward to get a better look.
It wasn’t the greedy thief she had imagined. No, this was something entirely different.
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A young boy, no older than 9, with ragged clothes and dirt smudged on his face, moved toward the pie with hesitant steps.
Nancy’s heart tightened as she watched him. The boy didn’t immediately take the pie.
Instead, he knelt by the grave and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small scrap of paper and a dull pencil. His hand trembled as he carefully scribbled something on the paper, his brow furrowed with concentration.
It was clear the boy struggled with writing, but he took his time, making sure each word was legible.
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Nancy’s heart softened as she saw him write “Thank you” on the paper, just like before. He wasn’t a thief. He wasn’t someone disrespecting Henry’s memory. He was just a hungry child, grateful for the kindness of a pie left behind.
The anger that had once consumed Nancy melted away in an instant. She realized this boy wasn’t stealing; he was surviving. He was in need, and her son’s favorite pie had somehow brought him comfort.
As the boy began to pick up the pie, his small hands shaking, Nancy stepped out from her hiding spot.
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The rustle of leaves under her feet made him freeze, wide-eyed. Startled, he dropped the pie, and it tumbled onto the grass. His face paled, and he backed away, looking terrified.
“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry!” the boy cried, his voice trembling with panic. “I was just so hungry, and the pie was so good. Please don’t be mad.”
Nancy’s heart softened instantly. The sight of him—thin, dirty, and scared—erased any trace of anger she had felt before.
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She knelt beside him, speaking gently, her voice as comforting as she could make it. “It’s alright, sweetheart. I’m not mad at you, Where are your parents?” she said, her tone soothing. The boy stayed silent and shook his head. “What’s your name?” Nancy asked another question understanding that the boy had nowhere to go.
“Jimmy,” he muttered, still avoiding her eyes, ashamed of what he had done.
“Well, Jimmy,” Nancy smiled softly, trying to reassure him, “it’s okay. You don’t have to steal pies. If you’re hungry, all you had to do was ask.”
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Jimmy looked up at her, his lips quivering as he tried to speak. “I didn’t mean to steal,” he said, his voice small and shaky. “I just… I don’t get to eat much, and that pie was the best thing I’ve ever had.”
Nancy’s heart ached for him, her mind flooded with thoughts of how different this boy’s life must be.
The hunger in his eyes reminded her of her own son, Henry, when he would eagerly wait for that first bite of her freshly baked pie.
But Henry never had to worry about where his next meal would come from. Jimmy, on the other hand, looked like he had been living with hunger for a long time.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Come with me,” Nancy said after a moment of thought. She stood up and reached out her hand to him. “I’ll bake you a fresh pie, just for you.”
Jimmy’s eyes widened in disbelief, as if he couldn’t trust his own ears. “Really?” he asked, his voice filled with a mix of hope and doubt.
Nancy nodded, her heart filled with a strange but comforting warmth. “Yes, really. You don’t have to be afraid.”
Slowly, Jimmy reached out and took Nancy’s hand.
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She led him back to her home, the boy walking beside her in silence, his eyes darting around as if he wasn’t sure if this was all real. Nancy’s heart swelled with the thought of what she was about to do.
Baking had always been her way of expressing love, and now, after years of baking for a son she could no longer see, she was about to bake for someone who truly needed it.
When they reached her cozy kitchen, Nancy set to work, rolling out the dough, slicing the apples, and adding the perfect amount of cinnamon—just as she had done so many times before.
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Jimmy watched her quietly from the corner of the kitchen, his eyes wide as he followed every move she made.
The smell of the pie began to fill the room, warm and comforting, like a hug from a long-lost friend.
Once the pie was baked, Nancy placed it in front of Jimmy. “Here you go, sweetheart,” she said softly.
“This one’s all for you.”
Jimmy hesitated for a moment, as if he couldn’t believe what was happening. But then he grabbed a slice and took a bite. His face lit up with joy, his eyes sparkling as he chewed.
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“This is the best pie I’ve ever had,” he said, his mouth still full. He ate with such happiness that it brought tears to Nancy’s eyes.
She watched him in silence, thinking about how something as simple as a pie could bring so much comfort to someone.
As Jimmy devoured the warm slices with obvious delight, Nancy couldn’t help but think of Henry.
She had always dreamed of seeing her son eat his favorite pie again, of watching him enjoy it the way he used to when he was a child.
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But now, in some strange and unexpected way, she was sharing it with another boy who needed it just as much.
Watching Jimmy eat, Nancy felt a deep sense of peace wash over her. Perhaps this was how it was meant to be.
Maybe fate had brought Jimmy into her life for a reason. By feeding him, by offering him kindness when he needed it most, she was honoring Henry’s memory in a way she had never imagined.
For the first time in years, Nancy felt that her grief had led her to something beautiful—a connection, a purpose that gave new meaning to her life.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Maybe, just maybe, this was Henry’s way of sending her a message—that love and kindness should always find their way back to those in need.
Nancy smiled as she watched Jimmy finish the last slice of pie, her heart full of warmth and gratitude.
She had found an unexpected connection in the most unlikely place, and it filled her soul in a way that nothing else had in years.
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: Martha was always quiet and smiling. No matter how hard or small the task, she was always ready to help. One of her colleagues, Chelsea, often took advantage of Martha’s kind nature by asking her to do her work for her. But this time, Chelsea unintentionally did Martha a favor.
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.
17 Nannies Whose Adventures Could Fill a Best-Selling Novel
Some people view nannying as a simple job. Tasks like feeding children, reading them stories, and putting them to bed seem routine. However, that’s not always true. The people featured in our article shared their experiences caring for other people’s children, and now we wouldn’t dream of calling this profession dull.
I was 13 and was babysitting my neighbors’ kids. It was my first time, so the parents walked me through all the rules about the bathroom, TV, food, bedtime, etc. Just as the parents were taking off for the night, the mom came back in and whispered to me, “Don’t go into the basement.” As a teenager in the 80s, my mind went to all of the scariest movies that had basements. I avoided the door to the basement all night until I had put the kids to bed.
Then I walked slowly to the door and put my ear against it. I heard what sounded like whimpering. And then it sounded like sad laughing. I ran to the couch and started watching TV to get my mind off of it, but then I heard something fall in the basement and knew someone was down there. I really don’t know how I got the courage/stupidity to do it, but I went over and opened the door. The whining instantly got louder.
I went down just 3 or 4 stairs, so I could peek down… and I saw… a goat. Not a ghost. A goat. As soon as the goat saw me, he started bleating loudly. It scared me. I went upstairs, and the goat was still bleating loudly, so much that it woke up the kids.
The oldest girl came out and said, “Did you open the door to the basement?” I said, “Yeah, why?” She said, “When you do that, Carlos thinks you’re going to feed him, and he starts yelling.” Thank god I knew it was a goat first, because if she had said that before I went down, I would’ve thought Carlos was some kidnapped person in the basement who would yell for food.
It was very funny to me. The mom came home and I told her what happened, and she almost died laughing. They were repairing the goat pen and had to keep him in the basement for a few days. I still remember every moment of that night vividly. © Unknown author / RedditIn my early twenties, I would babysit a set of twins on the weekend once in a while. Their mom was super beautiful, and she was always going on dates.
One night, she told me she met a guy and was going on a date with him. She left at 6 and said she’d be back around midnight. Well, pushing 1 a.m., I’m thinking maybe she’s running late. 2 a.m., 3 a.m… I’m calling and calling her and finally her phone just goes to voice mail. I wake up, and it’s 7 a.m. and she still isn’t back.
I finally found the grandparent’s number in an address book. I call her parents, and they don’t even seem phased. They just seem annoyed like this is business as usual but tell me they’ll be over to sit with the twins, so I can leave. I call the non-emergency police number and explain what’s going on and that the grandparents are on their way.
I stick around for another hour, and then she pulls up wearing a men’s t-shirt, and heels, and she’s laughing. She says jokingly, “Oh my god! Call the police!” I never sat for her again. She just ended up staying with the guy all night and turned her phone off so she couldn’t be bothered. She truly thought I’d dismiss it like it was no big deal. © Kikabennet / Reddit
- The dad of the kids I watched liked me on Tinder. Then, when I told his wife, and she didn’t believe me, he convinced her that “his Facebook was hacked.” The kids were almost always wonderful. © marymoon77 / Reddit
- I work as a nanny in the family of a big businessman. At first, I worked several times a week, then I started living in their house. The head of the family works almost round the clock, his wife doesn’t notice anything but clothes, spas, and fitness.
Yesterday, their 5-year-old son stole money from his father’s safe, came to me, and said we should run away together. I returned the money immediately, but how to explain to a child why I love him more than his mother, I don’t know… © Overheard / Ideer - I’m a nanny, and I heard her first word (it was hippo). But the family won’t ever know that. Some secrets are better to keep. © positivityfox / Reddit
- First babysitting job at 13. Four kids. My parents gave me a whole fresh salmon to COOK and serve the kids. I learned that day that salmon has pin bones when I had to pull some out of the 3-year-old’s throat while simultaneously calling my parents down the road because I didn’t know what to do, as he was coughing and gasping for air. He was fine, but I think I lost 10 years of my life that day. © nah2daysun / Reddit
- A lady tried to dump 2 extra kids on me without paying when she realized I was babysitting her neighbor’s kids. Her rationale was that I was already babysitting 2 kids and 2 more wasn’t that much, so I should watch her kids for free and let them eat her neighbor’s food. © CaptDeliciousPants / Reddit
- I’m not a nanny, but I’ve been babysitting a girl on and off from when she was 5 to 7 now.
Her: What is that?
Me: Pineapple
Her: Oh, I’ve never had pineapple.
Me: Do you want to try it?
She does this about everything, too. I asked her mom if she had ever had pineapple, and she was like of course, she has! Then I realized she was just trying to eat my food. © Kacidillaa / Reddit - I nannied for a wealthy couple, and the husband had a study in the house that the wife joked about never being allowed in. Now, I’m nosy, and I was curious about why you wouldn’t let someone in a study, especially since it looked like a fairly normal room: big desk, walls covered in bookshelves, books of architecture everywhere.
So one day I just roamed around in there. I didn’t find anything, and I was kinda disappointed, but then I grabbed a book off one of the shelves. The thing had money pressed between its pages — about $500 if I had to guess. Picked up another book, and found the same thing.
I think I checked like ten different books, and every single one had money hidden in it. Still not sure if the dude was just paranoid about banks or if he was intentionally hiding money from his wife. © Unknown author / Reddit - I babysat two neighbor kids one time. I had a lot of experience babysitting, but it was my first time with this particular family. The little boy was about 5, and the little girl was maybe 7. Their parents left very specific instructions for bedtime, and they were kept on a very strict schedule. I thankfully had my best friend with me at the time, we were probably 15.
Bedtime came around, and after several warnings, we told them it was time to get upstairs, get into PJs, and carry on with their bedtime routine. They went ballistic. The little boy started tearing the cushions off their leather couch, tossing them everywhere, and biting a hole in the arm of the couch. While I was trying to deal with him, my best friend was trying to get the little girl upstairs when she ran into the kitchen, dumped their entire mop bucket of dirty water on the floor, and started sliding around in it. As soon as the couch-chewer saw the fun his sister was having, he joined in.
I ended up calling my mom for reinforcement, and never babysat for that family again. © soxxyrocks / Reddit
- So the father of the kid works for a major athletic apparel company, and every year they need to test the upcoming year’s potential pieces. To do that, the company sends one of every potential piece to all female employees and female spouses.
Well, the mother is pregnant right now and can’t fit into any of the items, so the father made me a cup of tea and asked me to sit down in the living room (what he does whenever he wants to talk to me about something) and says, “I know we’re not paying you to do this, but would you be willing to test all of the sample pieces my company sent me? You can keep them afterward.”
Yes! Y’all, no kidding, he just handed me 6 boxes of athletic clothing that have to total thousands of dollars. © pineappleprincesspie / Reddit - I was in the living room, watching Sister, Sister,when all of a sudden I heard a man say, “Hello.” I check the front door and look out the window at the driveway, the parents aren’t home. Go upstairs and check the kids, they’re both still in bed.
Go back downstairs, and hear it again, from the darkened dining room, “Hello, I am Armando.” They had a parrot. © Unknown author / Reddit - I only babysat once, and it was nothing horrible. These people had a huge rich house, and everything looked great, but when it was time for the kids’ bed, I figured I’d read them a bedtime story. I searched through that magnificent house and couldn’t find a single solitary book. © TRIGMILLION / Reddit
- So, it is that time of the month for me. I go into the bathroom, and while unwrapping a feminine hygiene product, the kid yells from outside the door, “I can hear you eating candy in there!” It made my day and made me wish that I was eating candy. © HalleysComet5 / Reddit
- I was working as a nanny, and the children’s mother once told me, “My husband doesn’t think we should pay you for when the girls are sleeping…” They were 4 months and 2 years old.
I was a junior in high school and responded, “Okay, so should I duck out once I tuck them in?” I wouldn’t have done that, but I think at that point she realized how ridiculous her request was. © reckate / Reddit - I had a phone interview with a mom that went well, so we met in person for a second interview with her husband and 4 children. It went well until she explained her nanny was fired for having an affair with her husband and how their new nanny needed better morals and to limit her interaction with her husband (who was sitting there the whole time with us).
I’ve never felt more awkward in my whole life as she told me that I’m pretty but thankfully not his type as he just nodded his head. I just find it irritating how it’s the nanny’s fault when her husband also had the affair, and how the nanny needs morals when her husband doesn’t. So yeah, definitely not accepting this job! © thisisdevon- / Reddit
Working as a regular nanny is challenging enough, so imagine being a nanny for a royal family. There are strict rules to follow, such as being allowed to wear only specific types of jewelry.
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