The morning after I brought home two abandoned twins I discovered in the woods, I noticed unusual noises coming from my daughter’s bedroom. My heart nearly stopped when I raced in, and what I saw almost brought me to tears.
I’m a single mother to my wonderful daughter Emma. I tried even harder after her father abandoned us five years ago.
That’s when I found out he’d been seeing another woman from his office. The divorce crushed me, but I knew I needed to stay strong for Emma’s sake.
Those first few months were the hardest.
Emma was only five, too young to understand why her world had suddenly changed.
“When’s Daddy coming home?” she’d ask.
“Sweetheart, sometimes grown-ups need to live in different houses.”
“But why, Mommy? Did I do something wrong?”
“No, baby, never.”
“This has nothing to do with you. Daddy and Mommy just can’t live together anymore, but we both love you very much.”
We settled into a comfortable routine. Just Emma, me, and our lovable Labrador, Max.
Time flew as I watched my daughter grow from that confused five-year-old into a remarkably wise and intelligent ten-year-old.
Then came the diagnosis a year ago. Canc3r.
My baby girl, who’d already been through so much, now had to fight the biggest battle of her life.
A few months ago, after a particularly rough day at the hospital, Emma caught me crying in the hallway.
“Mom,” she said, reaching for my hand.
“Everything’s going to be okay. I promise.”
That’s where I was in life when everything changed.
It was a freezing December evening, and I was taking Max for a walk after my shift at work.
“Max! Come back!” I shouted, chasing after him. As I pushed aside the branches, my gaze landed on something that made me freeze.
Sitting on a fallen log were two little girls, huddled together, and wearing only thin sweaters and jeans despite the bitter cold.
They looked identical with wide, frightened eyes and long dark hair dusted with snowflakes.
“Hey there,”
“Are you okay? Are you lost?”
“No, we aren’t lost,” she murmured. “We live nearby… in a shed.”
“Where are your parents?” I asked.
The other girl replied, “Mama left us there… a long time ago.”
“What are your names?” I asked gently.
“I’m Willow,” said the first twin.
“And I’m Isabelle,” added her sister, gripping Willow’s hand tighter.
“How old are you both?”
“Nine,” they answered in unison.
Social services wouldn’t be open until morning anyway, I thought. I think I should take them home.
“Come with me,” I said gently.
“I’ll get you warm, and we’ll figure this out tomorrow.”
They exchanged a look, having one of those silent conversations I’d heard twins sometimes share. Finally, they nodded and stood up.
“Goodnight girls,” I said and closed the door behind me.
That night, I lay awake for hours, listening to the wind howl outside. I knew I should call social services first thing in the morning, but something about these girls tugged at my heart.
The next morning, I woke up to strange noises coming from Emma’s room. I listened closely and heard soft thuds and muffled giggles.
What’s going on? I wondered. Is it… is it the twins?
“What are you doing?! Don’t touch her!” I shouted.
The twins looked at me with eyes wide open. They were standing beside Emma’s bed, draped in makeshift costumes.
But what made me stop in my tracks was Emma.
“Mom, look!” Emma giggled, pointing at the twins. “They’re doing a magic show for me! Willow’s the good witch, and Isabelle’s the fairy princess!”
I wanted to cry at that point.
“Mom, they made me a crown too!” Emma held up a paper crown decorated with crayon-drawn jewels. “They say I’m the queen of the magical forest!”
“That’s… that’s wonderful sweetheart,” I managed to say. “I—”
“We’re sorry for entering her room without your permission,” Willow said.
“We heard her coughing this morning and just wanted to check if she was okay.”
“She looked so sad,” Isabelle added softly.
“Everyone needs magic when they’re sick. That’s what we used to tell each other in the shed.”
Tears filled my eyes as I watched Emma clap and laugh at their silly dance moves.
On Christmas Eve, they performed their grandest show yet. Emma sat propped up in her special chair, wearing a blanket like a royal robe, completely enchanted by their performance.
That night, after the girls were asleep, I made a decision.
These twins had brought light back into our darkest days. They gave Emma the simple joy of being a child again, even amid her illness.
So, I decided to let them stay. I decided to adopt them.
