A Son Unprepared for Fatherhood… “Shameless! Ungrateful Pig!” screamed the mother at her daughte…

The Son Isnt Ready to Become a Father…

Slattern! Ungrateful pig! Patricia shrieked at her daughter Natalie, throwing insults with the accuracy of a professional darts player. Natalies swelling belly did nothing to soften her mothers rage quite the contrary, really. Out with you! And dont ever set foot in this house again. I dont ever want to see you!

For once, Patricia really did mean it. Sure, shed booted Natalie out on occasion before, mostly for teenage misdemeanours, slamming doors and the usual drama. But this this being up the duff was apparently the final straw. Dont come back until its all sorted! Patricia huffed.

So, teary-eyed and clutching a battered suitcase with her worldly goods, Natalie hobbled off to her belovedher boyfriend, Daniel, whom she found to be about as confused as a squirrel in a roundabout. Turned out, Daniel hadnt even had the backbone to tell his parents that Natalie was expecting his child. Daniels mother, Susan, immediately got straight to the point, asking if it was too late to do something about it. Of course, it was: Natalies bump was impossible to ignore.

Natalie, shocked and overwhelmed, was now prepared to accept help from anyoneeven those with the warmth of a slightly damp towel. Only a month ago, shed furiously resisted her own mothers suggestions, but now despair and fear about the future had her rethinking everything.

My Daniels nowhere near ready to be a father, Susan declared firmly, as if Natalie had asked her whether he fancied another cup of tea. Hes youngif you stick around, youll ruin his life. Of course, well help where we can. For now, Ive asked a friend to find you a spot in a support centre for well, girls like you. Not exactly in demand. She said it in the way only English women candelivering biting criticism dusted in politeness.

At the centre, Natalie was finally given a room of her own. For the first time in what felt like forever, she could breathe again, calm herself, and catch up on some real sleep. No one nagged her, and she found herself being gently prepared for giving birth mentally and physically with a kind psychologist helping along the way. Then, when the big moment came, and she was handed a squirming bundle her baby daughter panic set in. For a moment, Natalie was terrified; then curiosity crept in. Who was this little miracle? Her very own daughter.

Christmas was coming, but instead of festivities, Natalie was gently informed that shed have to move on; younger mums needed the space. Little Evaher baby girlwas just over a month old, and Natalie had nowhere to go. She had no clue how theyd survive, where to find the next meal, or even who might offer a spare sofa for the night. As for Patricia, she remained stubbornly frostyresolutely uninterested in her granddaughter, as if theyd both simply vanished from her world.

My word, sweetheart, what a cheerless Christmas Eve were having… Natalie murmured to Eva. She had always loved this holiday. She used to dash about the neighbourhood carolling as a kid, memorizing every line, earning a tidy sum because she covered nearly the whole estate with the other local children. Suddenly, Natalie was struck by a wild urge to relive a bit of that old festive cheerto go house-to-house, singing carols, collecting treats and perhaps, a few quid too. Why not? she thought. Evas a quiet little thing. Ill wrap her up, strap her to me, and well go sing. If people dont open the door, well, its their loss, isnt it?

The day after Christmas Eve, Natalie picked a quiet, leafy suburb for her carol-singing adventure. As she suspected, most households were hesitant, no doubt expecting an entire mens choir rather than a lone woman with a baby. But eventually, some doors did open. Natalie sang her heart outso sincerely and sweetly that people rewarded her generously, not only with notes and coins, but also cakes and biscuits. They were especially touched seeing her with little Evaknowing, surely, that no young mother would be trudging door to door in the cold for the pleasure of it.

Lugging her baby from house to house was no stroll in Hyde Park, lets say. Might as well try that posh one, Natalie thought, eyeing the stately house at the end of the road. Might get a decent gift from this lot. Shed already amassed a small fortune in her coat pocketenough for at least a weeks comfort.

May I sing a carol for you? she asked, as the homeowner welcomed her inside. But Natalie was taken aback by the mans reaction. After letting her in, he stared at her face, then looked at the baby, paled noticeably, wobbled slightly, and collapsed into an armchair.

Margaret? he whispered.

Im sorry? No, Im Natalie. You must have me confused with someone, she replied.

Natalie My goodness, you look just like my wife And the little one he faltered. Is she a girl?

Yes, she is, Natalie said softly.

I once had a daughter, just like her but they were both lost in a car accident. Just the other day, I dreamed theyd come back. And now you Can things like this really happen?

I I dont know what to say…

Please, come in, dont be shy. Tell me your story, would you?

Natalie, at first, was unsettled by the strangers emotional intensity. But really, where else did she have to go? She stepped into his spacious, slightly lonely-looking home, where a photo of a woman with a child hung on the wallindeed, the late wife did bear an uncanny resemblance to Natalie.

Then, Natalie found herself talking. She told her whole story, almost unable to stop, describing everythingdown to the smallest detail. It was such a relief to finally have someone genuinely interested in her. The man simply listened, catching every word, often glancing at little Eva, who slept soundly, smiling in her bundle. She seemed, somehow, to sense that shed at last found her way homea home that, from then on, would truly belong to her.