Being a single parent to twins has been hard, especially when life often throws me curveballs. But I wasn’t ready for what I found inside the secondhand washing machine I bought since I needed it.
I’m 34 years old and have twins who are three years old. Their names are Bella and Lily. Their mom left us when they were just a few months old. Since then, I’ve been doing everything I can to help them. But I didn’t think that a stranger would change our lives forever.
When she left, the mother of my children said she wasn’t “cut out for diapers and midnight feedings.” Of course, I told her to stay. I assured her we could figure things out together, but she didn’t look back. She was so done that she didn’t even pay child support.
I thought the woman would be with me forever, but she didn’t even phone or get in touch. It felt like she had never been there. I had to handle the situation on my own because I was sure she was telling the truth and wouldn’t come back.
I acquired a full-time job doing IT work from home so I could be with my kids. I worked when the twins were sleeping, late at night, early in the morning, and whenever they were in daycare after they were old enough.
Back then, coffee was my lifeblood. Some days I felt like a zombie, but I kept telling myself that the girls were the most important thing to me. We discovered our rhythm, even though it wasn’t easy.
Then this year, everything came apart at once.
You know how people say, “When it rains, it pours”? That’s exactly what happened. Everything that might have gone wrong did.
Bella and Lily’s daycare suddenly closed because of a COVID-19 exposure. I was stuck at home with the kids and couldn’t make other plans because it happened so quickly.
My employer went through “restructuring,” which implies that my pay was cut by a huge 20%, which was already hard to deal with. When I was still attempting to deal with the loss of money, my mom, who was my only backup, was diagnosed with a heart problem. Medicare wouldn’t pay for all of her surgery!
But I swear, the universe wasn’t done with me yet.
A few weeks after my mom’s condition got worse, the rent on the house where I lived with the twins went raised. Things couldn’t get much worse, but then my washing machine broke!
I have to say that I felt a lot more stressed out than when the twins’ mother was there. I even considered about trying to find her or taking her to court to make her pay child support. But I didn’t. I figured it would be more enjoyable to figure it out on my own than to argue with my ex.
If you’ve ever had kids, you know that doing laundry is a big part of your everyday life. These two things mean that you will constantly have sticky fingers, toilet training accidents, muddy socks, and yogurt spills. It never ends!
I did my best to be bold.
For two days, I tried to clean everything by hand in the tub. My back and fingers hurt, and I still couldn’t keep up. So, I called a professional to look at the broken machine because that was the best option.
The repairman said, “Oh, this machine is really broken” after looking at it.
“But can you save it?” I asked, feeling both scared and hopeful.
“Um, let me be honest with you. It will cost you a lot to fix this old equipment. It would be wiser to buy a secondhand one. That would be less expensive.
The man was kind enough to tell me the name of someone who would pay me to take the machine apart and sell the parts. I said thank you.
My hands started to break and bleed from the painful cuts on the third day as I tried to wash the twins’ clothes.
“Daddy, your hand is red with blood,” Bella replied. When my sister noticed my bruises, she became pale and threw up on her clothes. That was all I needed.
Even though it stung my pride, I put the double stroller in the car and strapped the kids into their car seats. I was hoping to find something that didn’t cost too much. I went to a store nearby that sells old appliances. There were fridges that didn’t match outside and a sign on the wall that said “No refunds!”
The prices were really fair, precisely like the service agent mentioned, and there were a few machines that would function. I was crouching down to examine at a used and broken Whirlpool machine when I heard a soft voice behind me.
“They’re so cute.” “Twins?”
I looked up and turned. There was an older woman, maybe in her late 60s, standing there. She had gray hair pulled up in a tight bun, a gorgeous flowered top on, and the nicest eyes I’d ever seen.
I nodded and smiled on purpose. “Two times the trouble.”
She laughed. “Where is Mom today? Or is it Daddy’s day with the kids?
My throat got tight. I didn’t appreciate having to answer the question. But something was off with her features… I just told the truth. “There isn’t a mom in the picture.” It’s just me and them.
Her face got less tense. “I’m sorry.” That must be hard.
I didn’t care. “Thanks.” Some days are harder than others. But we’re doing our best.
She nodded slowly, as if she knew more than she said. Then she gently stroked the stroller. “You’re doing a great job. Don’t forget that.
I said thank you, and as she went away down another aisle, she called, “And you should check out this Samsung machine over here in the corner.” I think you’ll like it.
“Thanks,” I yelled, happy and full of energy from her kind words.
Even though I was feeling bad when I went to the store because of all that was going on in my life, the stranger made me feel better. I began to talk to another customer who came into the same aisle about the many kinds of washing machines.
Ultimately, I opted for the older washing machine that the woman had suggested. I just gave them $120 in cash. The salesperson stated it “still spins.”
I was okay with that. The individual I talked to helped me get it into my old Ford.
When we got home, I had to keep the machine in the car until my neighbor returned home from work. After that, he helped me take apart the old, broken machine and get rid of it. The repairman told me to sell it to the right person.
My neighbor helped me move the Samsung inside. While the kids built a block tower in the living room, I put it up. I feared that waiting until tomorrow to use the machine would make me too frightened to sleep since I thought it would be broken.
I put the first load of dirty clothes in the washer, pushed the cycle button, and… nothing happened. The drum didn’t turn!
I cursed under my breath as I opened the door to the machine and peered around inside like I knew what I was doing. I saw it then.
There was a small cardboard box inside that stopped the drum from turning.
I had a hard time getting it out because I didn’t know how it got there in the first place.
There was a message on top of the box that had been glued there. It was written in lovely cursive:
“For you and your kids.” —M”
I was even more bewildered when I thought about if the secondhand store had missed the box inside before they placed it up for sale. I got upset after that since I knew it meant the business never tested to see if the machine worked!
But the note’s meaning stood out to me. The individual who wrote the note also has kids, like I do. Or was the note actually meant for me?
When I raised the lid, I shook my hands.
There were two shiny home keys on a ring with a red plastic tag inside. Below them was a printed address.
I thought at first that it was a mistake, but then my stomach fell. It was the older lady who worked at the store!
I fell hard on the floor of the laundry room. The kids came over to check what I was up to because they were tired of playing their games.
“What’s wrong, Dad?” Lily asked.
I looked at the keys I was holding. “I… I still don’t know.”
I didn’t get much sleep that night since I was trying to figure out what to do with what I had uncovered. I was happy that I didn’t have to work the next day, so staying up late to think about this wouldn’t have made me exhausted when I was taking care of the kids.
When the sun came up, I had already made up my decision. I needed to know where the address went. After breakfast and a bath, I put the twins in their car seats and checked the address I had placed into Google Maps the night before.
It drove us to the outskirts of town, which was about an hour away from where we were staying. I know it was a bad idea and a waste of petrol, but I wanted to see for myself.
We were soon driving down a quiet road with oak trees on both sides.
And then I saw it, like one of those “Extreme Makeover: Home Edition” shows when the bus moves and the family finally sees their new home.
The house was small and white, with green shutters. The porch looked strong, but the overgrown grass showed that the house hadn’t been taken care of in a while.
A sign that stated “For Sale” was propped up against the fence. It was old and used up.
As I parked, I could feel my heart beating. The kids bent their necks. “Daddy, who lives here?” Bella wanted to know.
“Is this our new home?” Lily asked.
“I don’t know, my angels.” “Please wait here for Daddy,” I urged.
All of my babies agreed right away, but the small digital gadgets they were holding took their attention right away.
I unbuckled my seatbelt and walked to the door. I wasn’t there to do anything wrong, but I kept looking around like I was getting ready to break in.
With shaky, unsure hands, I inserted the key in the lock. It turned out to be easy, which surprised me and made me feel better. I quickly looked around to make sure no one was observing me.
I didn’t want the cops to come to my house.
The door creaked open, and a faint smell of lavender and dust came out. The living room was tidy, but not spectacular. The floors were made of wood, there was a stone fireplace, and some curtains had lost their color.
Then I saw something that startled me.
There are things in the house!
It wasn’t anything new, but it was great, far better than what we had at home. There was a couch, a table for eating, and even framed pictures of a woman and her family on the walls.
I knew the home wasn’t vacant; it was… waiting.
I needed to see more, so I walked back to the car, unbuckled the twins, and brought them inside. My brain was spinning. But first, I made sure the car was locked three times. I really didn’t want this to be a trap, but when we went back outside, we found out that the car had been taken.
There was furniture in every room of the house!
But the best part was that the fridge was full too! I had put the twins to bed, and while I was trying to work things out, they were exploring on their own.
After that, I saw something else. There was a different note on the counter.
“This used to be my sister’s house.” Last year, she passed away. She always wanted to have kids, but she could never have them. I think she would like to know that her house is full of life again. Take care of what you need to. Take care of the twins. Now it’s yours. —M”
I dropped into the couch with that message in my hand like it was a lifeline. The note said “two.” I couldn’t see well because of the tears, and for the first time in months, I felt hopeful.
A few days after we found the house, I couldn’t stop thinking about how I had to find “M,” the woman in the flowery shirt.
I went back to the store that sells used stuff. Jim, the same guy, was at the counter going through a brochure for vintage appliances.
“Hey,” I said. “Do you know the older woman I talked to last week?” We were both looking at the washers. She had gray hair and a shirt with flowers on it. “Did you have kind eyes?”
Jim slowly nodded and glanced up.
“Do you mean Margaret?” he inquired.
“Yes. Margaret. Do you know how to get in touch with her?
He reached behind the bar and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
“She said you would come back and get this.”
When I opened it, I felt nothing.
The note had her full name and address, but not her phone number. A basic note with the same steady cursive writing.
Jim added, “I believe she was hoping you would come find her.” “She said that people sometimes just need a push.”
I found her a week later. The granny was getting well, so the twins stayed with her.
Margaret had a small flat on the other side of town where she lived alone. When I knocked on her door, she smiled like she had been waiting for me.
She said, “I was wondering when you would come.”
“Why?” I asked, my voice cracking. “Why would you do this for us?”
She reached out and gently stroked my arm. “Because a stranger did it for me once.” When I was your age, I didn’t have anything. A woman let me stay in her house for free until I could get back on my feet. It saved my life. I promised myself that I would do something nice for someone else if I ever had the chance.
I started crying right there at her door. She hugged me like a son and brought me inside.
Before I seized the machine, I finally asked Margaret how and when she got a chance to put the keys in it. She brewed some coffee.
While I was engaged talking to the customer who helped me get the machine to my car and watching the kids, Margaret stated she silently went back to the washer she had suggested. She always carried her sister’s house keys in her purse, not because she needed them, but because she imagined that one day she might meet someone who needed them more than she did.
In that short amount of time, she reached inside her purse, took out the small cardboard box she had created months previously, and carefully placed it within the washing machine’s drum. Then she asked the store owner for a piece of paper and wrote down the address of the house.
She quietly left the store without saying anything else and went straight to her sister’s house, where she put the second letter.
That was six months ago. Now, the twins have separate rooms. We placed flowers in the yard in front. My mom is feeling better after the procedure she desperately needed. She is now safe in the guest room that Margaret made us set up for her.
Sometimes I still sit by the fire and hear my twins laughing in the hallway. I think about how close I was to quitting. I think about how life may harm and help you at the same time.
A woman in a floral blouse observed a tired dad in a thrift store and offered to help him. He decided to change his life for good reasons.
