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Lonely School Janitor Found a Phone in the Park. When She Turned It On, She Couldn’t Believe Her Eyes
Lonely caretaker found a phone in the park. When she turned it on, she couldn’t recover for a long time.
Margaret Whitmore left for work earlier than usual. Weekends always left the park littered, so she arrived at 4 a.m. to get it all cleared. Shed been the caretaker for years now. Once upon a time, her life had looked very different.
Broom in hand, Margaret thought of her beloved son, the one shed had on her own at 35. Men hadnt been her luck, so shed poured everything into raising him. She adored her little Alfie. Bright boy, handsome too. The only worry? He couldnt stand their neighbourhood.
“Mum, when I grow up, Im going to be someone important!” hed say.
“Course you will, love. Wouldnt expect less,” shed reply, ruffling his hair.
The moment Alfie turned 16, he was offmoved into student digs near college. Margaret hated him being so far, but hed promised to visit often.
At first, he did. Then came a girlfriend, and home slipped his mind. Then one day, he came back for goodwith news that shattered her. He was terminally ill. Margaret couldnt fathom why life had dealt them such a cruel hand.
She fought tooth and nail. Doctors suggested treatment abroad, but it cost a fortune. Without hesitation, she sold her flat. Then, one night, the call came.
“Your sons gone,” the doctor said.
Margaret didnt want to go on. Without Alfie, what was the point?
One morning, as usual, she headed out to tidy the park.
“Morning, love!” called Mr. Thompson, out walking his dog.
“Morning! Youre early today,” she said.
“Ah, couldnt sit about. Fancied a stroll and a chat,” he grinned.
Mr. Thompson was a lifelong bachelor. Margaret flushed a little under his attention.
“Right, best let you get on,” he said, tugging the lead. “Come on, Duke.”
Margaret got back to workuntil something on the bench caught her eye. A phone. She glanced aroundno one in sight. She picked it up and switched it on. Photos filled the screen. Someones memories, left behind. Then, squinting, she froze.
“Oh, Alfie! My boy!” Sobs wracked her.
Suddenly, the phone rang. Flustered, she answered.
“Hello? Thats my phonecan I get it back?” a womans voice asked.
“Yes, of course. I found it in the park. Come to this address,” Margaret recited hers shakily.
The woman arrived promptly. As the door opened, Margaret spotted a lad behind her.
“Whered you get photos of my son?” she blurted.
“Olivers?” The woman blinked.
The boy stepped inside.
“Alfie!” Margaret gaspedthen fainted clean away.
The lad caught her. “Whats wrong with her?”
“She mustve mistaken you. Call an ambulance,” the woman said.
Fifteen minutes later, paramedics had revived Margaret. After they left, the truth came out.
Still unsteady, Margaret studied the woman. “Do I know you? Howd you have pictures of my Alfie?”
“Im Lucy,” she said softly. “I dated your son. He left when I told him I was pregnant.”
“Left? He never mentioned you!”
“We were together months. When I told him, he vanished. I figured he was scared.”
“No, love. Now I understand. Alfie was ill. He didnt want to burden anyonenot even you. Hes been gone years…” Margarets voice broke.
Lucy paled. “Gone?”
“Gone. I sold everything trying to save him. We were too late.”
Lucy exhaled slowly. “So he was protecting me.” Then she turned. “Oliver, come here.”
The boy stepped forward.
“Yeah, Mum?”
“Remember how I said your dad left us? Well… he didnt. He was sick. Passed before you were born. And thisthis is your grandma.”
Margarets heart swelled as the boyher grandsonpeered at her.
“Gran?” he whispered.
“Oh, come here, duck.” She pulled him into a hug.
Lucy smiled. “Why not move in? Weve room. Wed love to have you.”
Margaret shook her head. “This is home. But Ill visit often.”
A knock interrupted them.
“Am I interrupting?” Mr. Thompson stood there, holding a massive bouquet. “For you, Margaret. Fancy a walk?”
She beamed. “Id love to.”
Lucy and Oliver popped their heads around the kitchen door.
“Can we come?” they chorused.
“If you behave,” Mr. Thompson teased.
Two months later, Margaret became Mrs. Thompson. Duke the dog adored his new family, especially Oliverthough not as much as he adored the scones Margaret baked for them all.
