For Nancy, her son Henry was everything. She couldn’t imagine life without him. It had been 23 years since the tragic accident that claimed Henry’s life, and every year on the anniversary, she honored his memory by bringing his favorite pie to his grave. But this year, something unexpected was about to happen.
For over two decades, Nancy, now 61, never missed a year. She would bake Henry’s favorite pie—an apple and cinnamon delight—and take it to his resting place. The scent of apples and cinnamon always brought back memories of her little boy eagerly running into the kitchen, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the fresh pie. It had been a tradition they both loved, a way for her to stay connected to him even after he was gone.
Since the accident that took Henry’s life at 17, this ritual became Nancy’s way of coping with her grief. The pain of losing him never truly left her, but baking the pie gave her a small sense of comfort, a way to feel close to her son.
On this particular day, as she carefully carried the freshly baked pie to the cemetery, the weight of the dish seemed heavier than usual. She placed the pie on Henry’s grave, gently running her fingers over the smooth stone that had become so familiar. “I miss you every day,” she whispered softly. “I baked your favorite pie again… I wish we could share it just one more time.”
With a heavy heart, she kissed her fingers and touched the gravestone, saying her quiet goodbye before leaving, as she always did. But the next day, when Nancy returned to clean up, she noticed something shocking—the pie was gone. Instead of the untouched or spoiled pie she usually found, the plate was empty. And on it was a folded piece of paper.
With trembling hands, Nancy opened the note. The handwriting was shaky, and it simply said, “Thank you.”
Anger surged through her. Who would take Henry’s pie? It was a private ritual, a way to honor her son, and now a stranger had intruded on that sacred moment. Determined to find out who had taken the pie, Nancy decided to take matters into her own hands.
The next day, she baked another pie and placed it on the grave, but this time, she didn’t leave. She hid behind a nearby tree, watching and waiting. After an hour, she saw a small figure approach. It wasn’t the thoughtless thief she imagined—it was a young boy, no older than 9, with ragged clothes and dirt on his face.
Nancy’s heart softened as she watched the boy kneel by the grave. He pulled out a scrap of paper and carefully wrote, “Thank you,” just like before. He wasn’t stealing out of disrespect; he was simply hungry.
As the boy reached for the pie, Nancy stepped out from her hiding place. Startled, the boy dropped the pie and backed away in fear. “I’m sorry,” he cried, “I was just so hungry. Please don’t be mad.”
Nancy’s heart broke for him. She knelt beside him and spoke gently, “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m not mad. What’s your name?”
“Jimmy,” he whispered, ashamed.
“Well, Jimmy,” Nancy said with a soft smile, “you don’t have to steal. If you’re hungry, all you had to do was ask.”
Tears welled in Jimmy’s eyes as he explained how little he had to eat and how much the pie had meant to him. Nancy couldn’t help but think of Henry—how he had never known hunger, how he had always had more than enough. Jimmy, on the other hand, looked like he had been living with hunger for far too long.
“Come with me,” she said, standing up and offering her hand. “I’ll bake you a fresh pie, just for you.”
Jimmy hesitated, unsure if he could trust her, but eventually took her hand. Nancy led him back to her home, where she prepared a pie, just as she had done so many times for Henry. As the warm scent of apples and cinnamon filled the kitchen, Jimmy watched in awe. When the pie was ready, she placed it in front of him.
“This one’s all for you,” she said with a smile.
Jimmy took a bite, his eyes lighting up with joy. “This is the best pie I’ve ever had,” he said, his voice full of gratitude.
As she watched him eat, Nancy felt something she hadn’t felt in years—a deep sense of peace. For so long, she had baked pies for a son who could no longer enjoy them, but now, she was sharing that love with a boy who truly needed it. In some small way, it felt like Henry had brought Jimmy into her life, a reminder that love and kindness should always be passed on.
By the time Jimmy finished the last slice, Nancy’s heart was full. She realized that this unexpected connection was perhaps Henry’s way of showing her that even in her grief, she could still bring comfort to others. Maybe this was her new purpose—honoring Henry by helping those in need.
As Jimmy looked up with a smile, Nancy felt warmth and gratitude in her heart. She had found a new way to carry Henry’s memory forward, and it filled her soul with peace.
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Gang finds unusually spiky creatures in nest – takes a closer look and jaws drop when they realize what kind of animals they are
There’s now hope for a species that was on the point of extermination.
A group of experimenters in Australia is thrilled after their sweats to propagate the species feel to have succeeded.
lately, ecologists at the Mt Gibson Wildlife Sanctuary in Australia made a stunning discovery.
In the sanctuary, they set up a waste of invigorated and spiky little brutes.
But these are n’t just any brutes. They belong to the species “ western quolls, ” which are a specific type of marsupial carnivore.
Preliminarily, the species was scattered throughout Australia, but since the first Europeans began colonizing Australia, the population of the species has dramatically declined.
currently, the western quolls, also known as chuditchs, are only set up in the southwestern corner of Australia, and only in small clusters.
This species of marsupial grows to about the size of a cat and plays a significant part in the ecosystem. They help control populations of lower pets, as well as certain reptiles and catcalls.
New stopgap
Over the once many months, experimenters have been working to introduce the marsupials to the Mt Gibson Wildlife Sanctuary, an area where they had preliminarily been defunct.
Now, with the recent discovery of baby marsupials, it’s clear that the experimenters have succeeded. It seems that the creatures are thriving there and have no issues reproducing.
“ Through regular monitoring, we can see the quolls are doing well at the sanctuary and encountering the first poke
youthful is a positive sign that they’ve acclimated to the new terrain, ” said Georgina Anderson, AWC Senior Field Ecologist.
“ One quoll that we’ve named Aang is a regular at camera traps we set up at the release spots. He’s one of our largest and most striking quolls with a personality to match – frequently making rounds of multiple spots to collect the funk we use as lures and dismembering our bait drums, ” she added.
Ecologists at Mt Gibson, on Badimia and Widi Country in WA, have made an lovable discovery The sanctuary’
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