Single dad Daniel’s quiet morning with his sick little son took an unexpected turn when he helped an elderly woman on the bus. The lady was a fortune teller and slipped a cryptic note into his hand. Daniel accepted it, unaware that her parting words would soon haunt him in ways he never imagined.
It was one of those gray mornings in California, the kind that makes you feel like the universe hit snooze and forgot to wake up. My one-year-old son, Jamie, was strapped in his stroller, his tiny breaths fogging the clear plastic cover. He’d been burning up with a fever all night, and every little whimper had cut through me like glass.
A baby boy in a stroller | Source: Midjourney
I shoved a pacifier into his hand and double-checked the diaper bag slung over my shoulder. Formula? Check. Spare clothes? Check. An exhausted father running on caffeine and prayer? Also, check.
Parenting solo wasn’t the life I’d envisioned. My wife Paulina had been my everything, and when she passed during childbirth, it felt like the air had been sucked out of my world. But Jamie was my anchor now, and every step I took was for him.
“Almost there, buddy,” I murmured, adjusting his blanket. “We’ll get you feeling better soon, I promise.”
I touched his forehead gently, remembering the sleepless night before. “Your mama would know exactly what to do right now,” I whispered, my voice catching.
A man pushing a baby stroller | Source: Pexels
The bus screeched to a halt, and I hauled the stroller up with one hand, gripping the railing for balance.
“Let’s go, man! People got places to be!” the driver snapped.
“My son’s sick,” I shot back, struggling with the stroller. “Just give me a second.”
“Whatever, just hurry it up.”
I bit back a stronger reply, settling Jamie into the corner. The bus wasn’t crowded… just a few commuters with headphones or half-open newspapers.
At the next stop, she got on.
Likely in her 70s, the lady looked out of place. Layers of flowing skirts draped around her fragile body, a scarf tied tightly over her head, and silver bangles jingled on her wrists. Her dark, kohl-lined eyes darted around nervously as she rummaged through an old leather purse.
An older lady in a colorful costume | Source: Midjourney
“I don’t have enough for the fare,” she told the driver, her voice low and tinged with an accent I couldn’t place.
He scowled. “LADY, I’M NOT RUNNING A CHARITY. IF YOU DON’T HAVE THE MONEY, YOU CAN WALK. Pay or get off.”
She hesitated, looking visibly flustered. “Please. My name is Miss Moonshadow. I’ll read your fortune for free. Just let me ride.” Her hands trembled as she held them out. “Please, I… I need to get somewhere urgently.”
The driver rolled his eyes. “I don’t want any of that mumbo jumbo. Pay or walk.”
Her face flushed, and she looked over her shoulder, her gaze catching mine for just a second before darting away. There was fear there, raw and real. And something else I couldn’t quite place.
“Hey! If you can’t pay, get off the bus already!” the driver barked, his voice sharp enough to make her flinch.
An anxious older lady in the bus | Source: Midjourney
That was enough. And I stood up. “I’ve got it,” I said, digging into my pocket. “Let her take the ride.”
The driver muttered something under his breath as I handed over a couple of bills.
The woman turned to me, her eyes meeting mine with a weight I couldn’t quite place. “Thank you,” she said softly. “You didn’t have to. You have enough burden already, I can see it in your eyes.”
“It’s nothing,” I said, brushing it off. “We all need help sometimes.”
Miss Moonshadow took a seat near the back, but I could feel her gaze following me. Jamie stirred in his stroller, and I leaned down to soothe him, my hand brushing his fever-warmed cheek.
“Shhh, it’s okay, little man,” I whispered. “Daddy’s got you.”
A sad man sitting in a bus | Source: Midjourney
When my stop came, I maneuvered Jamie’s stroller toward the door. As I passed her, Miss Moonshadow reached out, her bangle-covered hand gripping my arm with startling firmness.
“Wait, here,” she said, pressing a small folded note into my palm.
“What’s this?” I asked, confused.
Her voice dropped to a whisper. “YOU’LL NEED IT. Trust me. Sometimes, the truth hurts before it heals.”
The driver barked for me to hurry up, and I nodded stiffly, stepping off the bus. The paper felt strangely heavy in my pocket, but I ignored it, although I was puzzled.
A man holding a small piece of paper | Source: Midjourney
The pediatrician’s waiting room was a blend of crying babies and exhausted parents when I arrived. I kept my eyes on Jamie, who had fallen asleep again in his stroller, his feverish little face looked smaller than usual.
“Mr. Daniel?” the nurse called.
“That’s us,” I said, standing. “Come on, buddy. Let’s get you checked out.”
The nurse stepped out and announced that Jamie was next, adding that the doctor would see him in five minutes. I sank into a chair in the waiting room, my exhaustion catching up to me. Almost without thinking, my hand drifted to the note in my pocket. I pulled it out, smoothing the creases before unfolding it.
The words hit me like a slap:
“HE’S NOT YOUR SON.”
A shocked man in a hospital | Source: Midjourney
I blinked, reading it again. Then again. My pulse roared in my ears, and I stuffed the note back into my pocket like it might burn me.
“Mr. Daniel?” the nurse called again. “The doctor’s ready.”
Jamie stirred, his little fists opening and closing. I reached out, brushing his cheek with my thumb. He was so real and so undeniably mine. The note was a lie. It had to be.
“He’s got your eyes,” the nurse kindly said as she led us to the exam room.
I forced a smile, but the words felt like daggers. Still, the note’s message clung to me like smoke, filling every corner of my mind with doubt.
A man lost in deep thought | Source: Midjourney
The cryptic message haunted me for days. I kept telling myself it was nonsense and didn’t mean anything. But every time Jamie giggled or looked up at me with Paulina’s eyes, the doubt crept back in.
Then, one night, I caved. I ordered a DNA test online, the guilt swirling in my gut even as I clicked “confirm purchase.”
“What am I doing?” I whispered to myself, staring at the confirmation email. “This is crazy. This is absolutely —”
Jamie’s cry interrupted my thoughts. I found him standing in his crib, his arms raised.
“Da-da,” he whimpered, reaching for me.
A man using a laptop | Source: Midjourney
I scooped him up, holding him close. “I’m here, buddy. I’m here.”
More than anything, I wished the DNA results would prove what I already felt in my heart — that Jamie was mine, that he belonged to me as much as I belonged to him.
I took the test, and the results came a week later. The envelope sat on the kitchen counter, unopened. Jamie babbled from his high chair, smearing pureed carrots across his tray.
“Alright,” I muttered to myself, ripping the envelope open.
The first thing I saw was the word “inconclusive.” Then, I found the part that mattered.
Jamie WASN’T mine.
I sank to the floor, the paper crumpling in my fist. “No,” I whispered. “No, no, no…”
“Da-da!” Jamie called out cheerfully, oblivious to my world crumbling.
A man shaken to his core | Source: Midjourney
I drove to Paulina’s mom’s house that evening, gripping the DNA results like they might dissolve if I let go. She answered the door with a warm smile, but it vanished when she saw my face.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, stepping aside to let me in.
I didn’t bother with pleasantries. I dropped the paper onto the coffee table. “Did you know?”
Her eyes flicked to the document, then back to me. “Daniel, I —”
“DID YOU KNOW, JOYCE?” I snapped.
Tears welled up in her eyes, and she sank into the couch. “She told me,” she whispered.
The words felt like a punch to the stomach. I stumbled backward, gripping the wall for support.
A disheartened older woman | Source: Midjourney
“My daughter… she made a huge mistake,” she continued. “One night. It was a stupid night at a work party. She wasn’t sure, Daniel. She wasn’t sure if the baby was yours. She was so scared. She begged me not to tell you.”
“So you BOTH lied to me?” I exploded. “Every day, every moment… it was all a LIE?”
“Daniel, please —”
“I held her hand when she died!” My voice broke. “I watched her slip away, promising I’d take care of our baby. OUR baby! And you knew? You knew all along?”
“She wanted to tell you,” Joyce sobbed. “The night before… before everything happened. She said she couldn’t bear it anymore. But then —”
“Then she died,” I finished, my voice hollow. “And you still said nothing.”
An emotional man with his eyes downcast | Source: Midjourney
“She loved you,” Joyce added, tears streaming down her face. “She loved you so much, Daniel. She was scared, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t love you.”
“Love?” I laughed bitterly. “Love isn’t lies. Love isn’t —” I choked on the words. “Every time you looked at Jamie, every time you held him… you knew.”
“He’s still your son,” she whispered. “And you’re the only father he’s ever known.”
“I can’t…” I shook my head. “I can’t even look at you right now.”
I left without saying another word, her sobs following me out the door.
A man walking away | Source: Midjourney
That night, I sat by Jamie’s crib, watching him sleep. His chest rose and fell in rhythm, and his tiny hand curled around his favorite blanket. The moon cast shadows through the window, and I remembered all the nights I’d spent here, singing lullabies, wiping tears, changing diapers, and fighting fevers.
“Who am I to you?” I whispered. “Am I just some stranger who…”
“Da-da!” Jamie stirred in his sleep, his little face scrunching up before relaxing again. I reached down, touching his hand, and his fingers automatically wrapped around mine.
I thought about Paulina — her laugh, smile, and how she used to hum when she cooked. The betrayal cut deep, but so did the memory of her last moments and the way she’d looked at me with such trust and love.
A heartbroken man lost in deep thought | Source: Midjourney
“Your mama made mistakes,” I whispered to Jamie. “Big ones. And right now, I don’t know how to forgive her.”
Jamie sighed in his sleep, still holding my finger.
“But you,” I continued, tears falling freely now, “you’re innocent in all this. You didn’t ask for any of it. And this past year…” My voice caught. “Every diaper I’ve changed, every fever I’ve fought, every smile, every tear, and every moment… they’re real. They’re OURS.”
The anger and betrayal still simmered, but they couldn’t touch the love I felt when I looked at him. This little boy had become my whole world and given me purpose when I thought I had none left.
A baby fast asleep | Source: Midjourney
“Hey, buddy,” I whispered, brushing a curl from his forehead. “You’re stuck with me, okay? No matter what. Because being a father… it’s not about blood. It’s about every sleepless night, every worried moment, and every celebration. It’s about choice. And I choose you. I’ll always choose you.”
Jamie stirred, his lips curving into a tiny smile.
This little miracle wasn’t my son by blood, but that didn’t matter. He was mine in every way that counted and in all the ways that truly mattered. And that was enough, more than enough.
As I watched my son sleep, I realized that sometimes the greatest truths come from the deepest lies, and the strongest bonds are the ones we choose to forge, not the ones we’re born with.
“Sweet dreams, my baby boy,” I whispered, and for the first time since reading that note, the word ‘son’ felt more true than ever before.
A man smiling warmly | Source: Midjourney
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
Dolly Parton ‘Bathed Once a Week’ & Lived in Shack with Family of 14 — Now Donates Millions to Those in Need
Dolly Parton has maintained her modesty throughout her extraordinary career as a performer, businesswoman, and philanthropist, while accumulating enormous recognition and wealth. Success has unsurprisingly followed her throughout her journey.
Parton knows the hardships of poverty having grown up in a large family. Despite her success as a hugely important Hollywood actress today, she has never forgotten her lowly roots.
In Nashville, Tennessee, in 1955, Dolly Parton posed for a picture. | Source: Getty Images
The genuine Dolly Rebecca Parton, the music icon, was welcomed home by her parents on January 19, 1946, at their home on Locust Ridge in Sevierville, Tennessee. She has eleven siblings and was born in a one-bedroom cottage.
Her father, sharecropper Robert Lee Parton, worked in construction to augment his income because he was unable to attend school and was hence illiterate.
The legendary country singer grew up surrounded by music because of her family’s strong musical heritage. Despite their challenging living conditions, singing brought them together and brought them joy.
In 1965, in Nashville, Tennessee, Dolly Parton posed for a picture. | Source: Getty Images
Parton learned to sing from her mother, the entertainer Avie Lee Owens. She played her a variety of melodies, including Elizabethan ballads and church hymns that had been passed down through the years in her family.
Parton’s grandfather, Jake Robert Owens, composed the hymn “Singing His Praise” while serving as a priest. A number of Parton’s siblings developed a passion for music, and a few of them participated in her family band.
Sam Owens, a musician and singer-songwriter in his own right, was another uncle of Parton. When she was a little child, her uncle—who loved music—was the first to see that she had the ability to become a well-known musician.
Stella Mae, Cassie Nan, the twins Freida Estelle and Rachel Ann, Willadeene, David Wilburn, Coy Denver, Bobby Lee, Robert, and Larry are among Parton’s siblings. After a fight with cancer, Robert passed away in 2021, while Larry passed away at birth.
Parton often assisted her parents in taking care of the younger children because she was the fourth of her twelve siblings. She shared a little roof with her family.
Their log cottage had no running water or electricity at the time, and it only had a living room and one bedroom. The building is still standing today.
Parton has never shied away from talking about her modest upbringing or how it shaped the way she saw the world. She knows what it’s like to be poor; she grew up in a huge household with little money.
In a promotional picture for her 1984 movie “Rhinestone,” Dolly Parton beams. | Source: Getty Images
Parton talked back to The Guardian in 2016 on her early years spent in the remote Tennessee highlands, emphasizing the happy memories from that time in her life. She stated:
“Obviously, there were problems, but I would rather look back on the good times.”
She recalled the times she had spent with her siblings, singing in church, and doing household chores that she didn’t really enjoy. She also remembered all of the laughs she had with her family in the past.
Parton talked about how her siblings would always sing and how she would always attempt to get them to back her up when she pretended to be the lead vocalist on stage, but they would never show any interest.
Parton remembered that her brothers would frequently cram themselves into their small home, which resulted in a lot of mocking and fighting. But they remained a family through all of the turmoil.
The cottage was too small for them to comfortably hang out in, she said, so they spent most of their time outside. The courtyard functioned as an addition for socializing over meals, entertainment, and games.
Parton stated that her family was constantly appreciative of their access to food and a roof. Her parents consistently stressed that other families suffered more than their own, even though it was not exactly what they desired. She remembered:
“I never felt poor, even though we were.”
Parton’s enthusiasm and musical ability would ultimately enable her to become one of the most popular and successful country music artists of all time, despite her family’s humble beginnings.
Growing Up in Poverty
Parton said that although she had happy childhood memories, being poor meant having to endure difficult living circumstances. She and her 14-member family essentially lived in a shanty and had little access to needs.
She revealed that she was just eight years old when she first saw a toilet and bathroom in her aunt’s house and was attracted by them in a March 1978 Playboy magazine interview with journalist Lawrence Grobel.
Parton revealed that she and her siblings were terrified to use the restroom because they believed it would swallow them up, while laughing at how naive and innocent they were at the time. “It was just very strange,” she remembered.
For Parton and her family, taking a daily shower was not an extravagance. Frequently, they would produce their own soap, and occasionally, they would cram themselves into the truck and head to the river to have a bath.
Although there was a brook close by, they all chose to bathe in the river since it served as their “big bath.” As their homemade soap cascaded down the river, they would swim together and give each other’s hair a bath.
Parton compared their river bath to a “bathtub,” jokeing about how filthy they were back then and how it would have left a ring around the Little Pigeon River. For them, taking a river bath was a midsummer rite.
Every member of the household would have a pan of water to wash as much as possible in the winter. Parton answered Grobel’s question about how frequently she and her family took winter baths by saying:
“Well, as the saying goes, we bathed once a week whether we needed to or not.”
Parton started to value bathing more after she started high school. She would bathe every night because her younger siblings would not wash their hands before bed. She disclosed:
The children urinated on me each night. In the bed, we slept three and four. Every night, I would wash. The kids would also wet on me as soon as I went to bed, so I would have to get up in the morning and repeat the entire process.”
On November 5, 2019, in New York City, Dolly Parton is present at the We Are Family Foundation event held at Hammerstein Ballroom. | Found via Getty Images
Parton was not hesitant to express her opinions, explaining that while getting peed on would seem unhygienic to some, the urine actually provided some warmth during the winter.
She remembered how cold it would get at home because she lived in the mountains, and she even mentioned that it was almost enjoyable to get pissed on because the room was just as cold as the outside. They would all curl up in bed, she claimed.
distributing millions
Parton has said that her family is wealthy and content in other ways, despite their lack of material wealth. She became humble as she grew older, and even after becoming wealthy, she never stopped helping those in need, just like her family had done when she was younger. She said:
“My greatest love will always be my family.” Although it might occasionally get lost in the shuffle, family is a part of all I do.
Parton claimed that her family was the inspiration behind her music and that her theme park, Dollywood, and one of its acts, Dixie Stampede, are meant to be places where families can enjoy themselves and spend quality time together.
Parton is a self-made millionaire, with a projected net worth of $375 million in 2022 according to Forbes. Her theme park and ownership rights to music publishing were the main sources of her financial success.
In the 1970s, she refused to share the critically praised song “I Will Always Love You” with Elvis Presley, one of the nearly 3,000 songs that she is in ownership of. When Whitney Houston performed the song in the 1990s, this choice paid off.
In addition, Parton is paid a publishing fee for songs that are sold, aired, or featured in motion pictures. According to Forbes, her songs are valued at $150 million, while her royalties have brought in between $6 and $8 million.
But the source of the music icon’s enormous wealth is her well-known theme park, Dollywood, which is one of Tennessee’s most popular travel destinations. According to reports, it earns $3 million annually.
When the theme park was still known as Pigeon Forge in 1968, the country music artist made an investment in it. Later, she gave it a new name, “Dollywood,” a pun on the word “Hollywood.” There is a water park and a hotel in the park.
In addition, Parton just unveiled Doggy Parton, a pun on her well-known name, as a new business. The business, which makes apparel and toys for dogs, was founded because of her passion for animals.
Parton learned the value of sharing her accomplishment with others from her early experiences. She is a businessman and singer in addition to being involved in a number of social and humanitarian organizations and having given millions of dollars to people in need.
In order to collect $13 million for the survivors of the East Tennessee wildfires that devastated Pigeon Forge and Gatlinburg in 2016, Parton teamed together with a group of musicians.
At “Smoky Mountains Rise: A Benefit for the My People Fund,” other well-known performers included Chris Stapelton, Kenny Rogers, Lauren Alaina, Alison Krauss, Reba McEntire, Cyndi Lauper, and Chris Young.
Following her niece’s leukemia treatment at Vanderbilt University Medical Center in Nashville, Parton donated $1 million to the Monroe Carell Jr. Children’s Hospital in 2017.
Apart from extending monetary support to individuals impacted by natural calamities, Parton made a noteworthy impact on the healthcare industry through her magnanimous financial contributions.
When she gave $1 million to vaccine research in 2020 amid the global COVID-19 pandemic, which affected people all over the world, she made headlines. Her input was useful in developing the Moderna vaccine.
Parton’s unwavering commitment to advancing early childhood literacy is another well-known quality. Each month, she provides over a million youngsters with free books through her nonprofit initiative, Imagination Library.
In order to assist kids in learning to read and write, Parton and Robert Lee established a non-profit organization in 1995, drawing inspiration from her father’s personal experience with illiteracy. Although it began in eastern Tennessee, it has expanded to assist children in all 50 states as well as the District of Columbia.
Other nations, like Australia, Canada, and the United Kingdom, have also been affected by the literacy initiative. Parton announced at the Library of Congress in 2018 that the initiative has distributed its 100 millionth book.
When the campaign first began, Parton just wanted to support her father and her hometown; she had no idea it would become so popular. She said with joy, “But then it just took its own wings, and I guess it was meant to be.”
Parton was also pleased that her father was quite proud of having contributed something valuable. Before he died in 2000, he had the opportunity to witness the results of their labor.
Her goals for the Imagination Library are also very lofty. She acknowledged having lofty goals and wishing to donate one billion books in her lifetime.
Despite having a difficult upbringing, Parton never lost sight of the value of community and family. She made the most of her riches by giving millions of dollars a year to a range of humanitarian causes, such as health, education, and disaster relief.
Her lowly beginnings instilled in her the virtues of perseverance, hard effort, and the unifying power of music. She also recalls the love, laughter, and happiness that characterized her childhood home and the family who stood by her side no matter what as she reflects on her life.
Leave a Reply