The Flower Lady
I was only seventeen years old when I had a baby. Don't get me wrong, to this day I love my son, Brian, with all my heart, but being a teenage mother was the hardest thing I've ever done. Teen moms are the butt of many jokes. You wouldn't believe how many times I was told that I wouldn't finish high school. And college? Well, college just didn't exist if you were a teen mom, apparently. But guess what? I managed to graduate both high school AND college....but things didn't get easier after that. They just got harder. Thank God for good people like the Flower Lady.
I had just rented my first apartment. It was a dingy little place, but it didn't matter at that point. I just wanted to get away from my family. At first, they adored Brian. He was a cute, cuddly, bundle of joy. But then he grew into a toddler. My parents got angry at me every time Brian began to cry in the middle of the night; they would even threaten to kick me out of the house every so often. But it wasn't until Brian (probably) gave my parents a nasty week-long stomach virus that they gave me a date I had to be out of their house.
By that point, Brian was close to being four years old. I had an associates degree in retail management and a few thousand dollars saved up. I planned on using that money for the first months rent of the apartment and Brian's childcare bill. Other than those few thousand dollars, I had absolutely nothing. (And before you ask, no, Brian's father wasn't in the picture. He dumped me as soon as he found out I was pregnant.)
My life became terribly hectic. I would wake up, get ready, get Brian ready, catch the bus, drop him off at daycare, go work at a local department store for ten hours, pick up Brian, go home, shower, sleep, then repeat it all the next day. It reached a point that I couldn't remember the last time I had a day to just relax. Taking off from work wasn't an option. I needed every penny in order to keep food on the table for Brian. I couldn't wait for the day Brian was old enough for kindergarten. Then, I wouldn't have to pay such a high childcare bill anymore.
The only peaceful part of my day was the Flower Lady. She lived next door to me. From what I could tell, she lived alone. Her front deck was decorated with some of the prettiest flowers I've ever seen. Every morning, she would smile and wave to me as I rushed to the bus stop with Brian in my arms. I never even waved back. But those flowers...they just made me happy. The Flower Lady took such good care of them. Oh how I wish I had told her just how beautiful those flowers were...
It was just like any other day. I had dropped off Brian and gone to the department store. Before I could do anything, my boss called me into his office. "Listen," He said to me in a dull, tired tone. "The company is having budget cuts and I'm afraid we're going to have to let you go immediately."
I felt numb. That job was all I had. Sure, there were other jobs out there, but at that exact moment, I had two dollars in my bank account. I knew it would take at least a week to secure another job. "Please," I stuttered. "I need this job more than you know."
But my boss wouldn't budge. I left that building feeling like a complete and utter failure at life. I needed to feed Brian. Rent was overdue. I was all alone. Frantically, I pulled out my cell phone. I called my cousins, parents, old friends, and even a few churches. But none of them were willing to loan me some money. I couldn't blame them. Who would want to loan money to a teen mom like me?
I picked up Brian from daycare. I refused to let him see me cry on the bus ride home. When we got back to the apartment, he asked me what was for dinner. That's when I lost it. I bawled my eyes out in front of Brian. "I'm so sorry sweetie." I whispered. "Mommy will get you some food tomorrow morning, I promise."
But I knew I couldn't keep that promise. The area I lived in was wealthy and there wasn't any soup kitchens. I reached the conclusion that I would have to go to the grocery store and see how many Ramen noodles I could buy for two dollars. I hated myself at that moment. I had to feed my son Ramen noodles and tap water. I was most certainly the worst mother ever.
Once I had tucked Brian in for bed, I sat down on my couch. It took two hours for me to fall asleep. My body woke itself up at seven the next morning. Before I woke Brian up, I noticed a pink envelope was sticking out from beneath my door. I picked it up and opened it. a crisp 100 dollar bill fell out and floated gently to the ground. Shocked, I read the note.
Dear neighbor,
You may not know me, but I think I have a pretty good idea about what you're going through. You're a young, single mother struggling to get by. Believe me when I say I completely understand how you feel. I too was a single mother. And guess what? It was hard. But in the end, it all turned out okay. Looking back, I'll never forget the people who helped me when I most needed it. There's nothing wrong with needing some help, dear. Remember that.
Last night, I couldn't help but hear you crying. I felt so bad, but I wasn't sure what to do. It's my last day in this apartment building. I'm actually moving across the country to live with my daughter and her husband. I have few life savings, but it's money I'll never use since I'm living off my family from now on. (What can I say? I'm old.) So, I've used my money to pay one month of your rent. There was 100 dollars left over.
I believe in you.
Sincerely,
The Flower Lady
I began crying again, but this time it was tears of joy. I walked over to her apartment to thank her, but I was surprised to find that it was up for rent. I asked the landlord, and he said she had left early in the morning. "Does she have a cell phone? Email address?"
The landlord shook his head.
It's been a year and I still haven't been able to thank the Flower Lady in person. That 100 dollars got me through two weeks of feeding Brian. The paid rent gave me time to find a stable job. I will never forget the Flower Lady's kindness. Sometimes all you need is someone who believes in you, even if it's a stranger.
THE END.