After burying her eight-year-old daughter Lily, Ashley returned home, weighed down by grief and exhaustion. The empty house greeted her like a cold, silent stranger. But before she could walk inside, something in her backyard caught her attention—something she never could have expected.
It had only been a week since they laid Lily to rest, but every moment since had felt like drowning in sorrow. Ashley couldn’t stop thinking about that day. The hospital rooms, the soft beeping of machines, the whispers of goodbye—her little girl, so full of life, was now gone.
“I thought I was ready to say goodbye,” Ashley whispered, her voice breaking. “But I wasn’t.” They had said it would be peaceful for Lily at the end, but the peace they promised her hadn’t come for Ashley. The emptiness was overwhelming.
The days before Lily’s death had passed by in a blur. Time felt like it was moving too fast and too slow at the same time. The laughter that had filled the house was now a ghost in her memory. It was almost unbearable to think about.
The funeral itself was a painful blur. People had come to say their goodbyes, to offer condolences Ashley couldn’t truly hear. Aunt Ruth had pulled her into a tight hug, her perfume overwhelming, but Ashley barely noticed it.
“I’m so sorry,” Aunt Ruth had whispered, but her words felt distant.
Others had said things like, “She was such a light.” Their words echoed in Ashley’s head, but she couldn’t focus on them. All she could hear was the haunting memory of Lily’s laughter, knowing she’d never hear it again. That was the worst part—the loss of the joy that used to fill her world. The thought of never hearing Lily’s voice again crushed her spirit.
As the mourners slowly filed out, offering their empty words of comfort, Ashley’s eyes found the empty chair beside her. Lily’s chair. The pain of seeing it left her feeling even more hollow. It was like the world had stopped, but her grief never would.
“Let me know if you need anything,” someone had said as Ashley left the cemetery. She had nodded mechanically, but deep down, all she wanted to scream was: What could anyone do?
Driving home was surreal. The car felt too quiet, like it was part of the void she was now trapped in. Ashley couldn’t bring herself to turn on the radio. It felt like music would be a cruel reminder of what she’d lost. So she drove in silence, her heart heavy, her mind racing.
As she pulled into the driveway, the sight of her house seemed like a cruel reminder of everything she no longer had. It was supposed to be a place of comfort, but now it felt like a tomb. She sat there for a moment, not wanting to face the cold emptiness inside.
But just as she was about to open the door and step out, something caught her eye.
In the backyard.
A tent. A brightly colored tent. It was large, with bold red and yellow stripes that made it look like something out of a circus, complete with little flags fluttering at the top. Ashley blinked.
“What… is that?” she whispered, her voice shaky. Her hand trembled as she rubbed her eyes, thinking maybe it was a hallucination. Grief, exhaustion—it had to be playing tricks on her. But when she opened her eyes again, the tent was still there, vivid and out of place in her backyard. A splash of color in a world that had turned to black and white.
Her legs shook as she stepped out of the car. She had to know what it was, but the questions spinning in her mind only made her feel more uncertain. Who would put a tent in my backyard? And why today?
Each step felt heavier than the last as she walked toward the strange sight. The wind picked up, making the flags on top of the tent flap loudly. Her heart pounded in her chest, and her hands curled into fists.
“This can’t be real,” Ashley muttered under her breath, her voice thick with emotion. But as she approached, the details became clearer. The fabric was solid, the wooden stakes securing it firmly to the ground. There was no sign of anyone nearby—no note, no explanation. Just the tent.
With shaking hands, she reached for the flap and pulled it open.
Inside, wrapped in a soft blanket, was something small and still. Her heart stopped for a moment. The sight of it sent a jolt of panic through her. For a second, she thought—no, please, not again.
“No,” she whispered, shaking her head in disbelief. “No, not again…”
But then, the bundle shifted. Ashley froze, her breath caught in her throat. Slowly, a tiny golden retriever puppy, no bigger than a loaf of bread, peeked out from the blanket. Its soft fur shimmered in the dim light, and a little pink bow was tied around its neck.
Ashley’s heart skipped a beat as she stared down at the puppy. She felt a rush of emotions—confusion, relief, and something she hadn’t felt in days: hope.
“What… what are you doing here?” she whispered, her voice trembling. The puppy wobbled forward, wagging its little tail, its tiny legs stumbling with every step. It was so full of life, so innocent, that it almost felt like a dream. How could something so full of life be here in the middle of all this death and grief?
Ashley knelt down, her body trembling as she reached out to touch its warm, soft fur. It was real. The puppy was real.
Then, her fingers brushed against something under the blanket. An envelope. Her heart leapt as she picked it up. The handwriting on the front was unmistakable—messy, childlike, but unmistakably Lily’s.
Tears blurred Ashley’s vision as she carefully opened the envelope. The paper inside was wrinkled, the ink faint but still readable.
“Dear Mommy,” it began. “I know you’re sad because I had to go to heaven. But I wanted to leave you something to help you smile again. I asked Daddy to get you a puppy, so you’ll have someone to cuddle with when you’re missing me. Her name is Daisy, and she loves to play! Please take care of her for me. I’ll always be with you, watching from above. I love you so much. Love, Lily.”
Ashley gasped, clutching the note to her chest as tears fell freely down her face. Her heart broke all over again, but this time, it wasn’t just pain. It was love. Lily’s final gift had come to her in the form of this tiny, golden bundle of joy.
“Lily…” Ashley sobbed, her voice barely a whisper. She could hardly breathe through the grief. But at the same time, she could feel it—Lily’s love, still there.
Daisy, the puppy, squirmed in her lap, licking her hand as though it was trying to comfort her, to remind her that there was still life ahead, still love, even in the face of death.
The days that followed were hard, so hard. But Daisy became Ashley’s constant companion. The little puppy filled the house with warmth and laughter again, helping her through each dark day. Slowly, Ashley began to heal, and even though Lily was gone, she knew that her love would always be with her. Daisy was her gift, a reminder that love never truly ends.
With Daisy by her side, Ashley felt a light flicker back in her heart. And she knew, no matter how hard it got, she would never be truly alone.
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