Carly Dingles was only five years old when her mother took her on a long drive in her big red car. The car zoomed past the familiar streets of their neighborhood, past the little park where Carly liked to swing, past the grocery store where they bought ice cream, and far, far away to a place Carly had never seen before.
At last, they arrived at a big white church standing alone in a field of green grass. Carly looked around, confused. There were no houses nearby, no playground, nothing but the church and the open sky.
Her mother smiled at her, but there was something strange in her eyes. “Carly, honey,” she said gently, tucking a loose strand of Carly’s brown hair behind her ear. “You wait right here, baby, and Momma’s gonna be right back!” She kissed Carly’s cheek, and her bracelets jingled as she turned back to the car.
Carly giggled. She loved those bracelets. They made such a pretty sound, like tiny bells. “Okay, Momma!” she said, trusting and innocent.
Her mother got into the car, the engine roared, and then, just like that, she was gone. Carly watched as the red car got smaller and smaller, her mother’s yellow hair flying in the wind, her hand waving out the window. Carly waved back and waited, sitting on the church steps.
She waited. And waited.
The sun climbed higher in the sky, and Carly started to feel hot. Her tummy rumbled, and her throat felt dry. She looked down the road, expecting to see that red car coming back any moment now. But it never did.
Then, just as she was beginning to cry, a woman appeared. She was carrying a bundle of bright flowers, and when she saw Carly, she gasped. “Child! What are you doing here all alone in this heat?”
Carly wiped her tears. “I’m waiting for my mom. She said she’d be right back.”
The woman, a kind-looking lady with warm brown eyes, knelt beside her. “Oh, baby,” she murmured. She touched Carly’s forehead. “You’re burning up!” She hurried to her car and returned with a cold bottle of water and a handful of peaches. “Here, drink this. Have a peach, sweetheart. Sit in the shade, and I’ll be right back.”
She disappeared inside the church, and a few moments later, she returned with a tall man dressed in black. Carly thought he looked funny in his long robe.
“It’s not a dress,” the man said gently. “I’m a priest.”
The lady and the priest started whispering, glancing at Carly with worried looks. The lady sighed, shook her head, and made a phone call. Carly didn’t understand why they were acting so serious. Her mom was coming back. She had said so.
Hours passed. The sun began to set, turning the sky pink and orange. A thin woman with sharp eyes and a police officer arrived. Carly stood up excitedly. “Are you here to take me to my mom?”
The police officer looked sad. “Come with us, sweetheart. We’ll take care of you.”
“No!” Carly shouted. “I have to wait! My mom is coming back!” But no one listened.
They took Carly to an orphanage, and no matter how many times she told them that she wasn’t an orphan, that her mom was coming back, no one believed her.
She was angry all the time. The other kids left her alone. Who wanted to be friends with a girl who was always yelling and crying? No one… except for Peter.
Peter was a pale, quiet boy with soft brown hair. The other kids said he had a weak heart, which meant he couldn’t run or play rough games. But he had something special—he made paper airplanes that could fly higher and farther than anything Carly had ever seen.
One day, Carly sat on the stairs, sobbing. She missed her mom. She hated this place. She wanted to go home.
Then, out of nowhere, a paper plane came floating down and landed in her lap. She picked it up and saw something written on the wing:
You’re gonna be alright.
She looked up. Peter was sitting at the top of the stairs, watching her. “Did you make this?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Peter said with a small smile. “I can’t run, so I make planes that can.”
Carly climbed up and sat beside him. From that moment on, they were best friends.
Whenever Carly had a bad day, a paper plane would magically appear—on her bed, on her desk, even on her pillow at night. And every single one had a message: It’s going to be okay.
Years passed. Carly turned seventeen. Soon, she would be eighteen and free to leave the orphanage. And she had a plan—she was going to find her mother.
She went to the director and demanded any information they had. “Carly,” the woman said kindly. “You have a scholarship. A bright future. Maybe it’s time to move forward.”
“No!” Carly screamed. “I know my mother is looking for me! She came back, and you took me away! It’s all your fault!”
Heartbroken, Carly ran outside. She collapsed on the grass, sobbing. Then—a paper plane landed softly beside her. She picked it up and crushed it in her fist.
“STOP IT!” she screamed. “Your stupid planes don’t help me, Peter! I HATE THEM! I HATE YOU!”
She regretted it immediately, but she was too proud to apologize. Three days later, she left without saying goodbye.
For two years, Carly searched for her mother. She traveled across the country, following clues, chasing whispers. Finally, she found her—in a rundown trailer park outside St. Louis.
Carly’s heart pounded as she knocked on the trailer door. It creaked open, revealing a woman who looked nothing like the mother she remembered. Her blonde hair was dull and brittle, her face lined with age.
“Yes?” the woman asked, frowning. “Who are you?”
Carly’s throat tightened. “Mom? It’s me. Carly.”
The woman blinked. “Carly? Well, I’ll be… What the hell are you doing here?”
“I’ve been looking for you,” Carly said eagerly. “I thought—you must have come back for me, but I was gone…”
Her mother laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. “Came back? Sweetheart, I was out of that town before sunset. My new man didn’t want some other guy’s kid hanging around.”
Carly’s heart shattered. “You left me? On purpose?”
Her mother smirked. “People always say kids are God’s gift. I just gave you right back.”
Carly couldn’t breathe. She turned and ran.
Three days later, she found herself back at the orphanage. “I was hoping to see Peter,” she told the director.
The woman’s face fell. “Oh, Carly… Peter’s heart… It gave out a few weeks after you left.”
Carly walked outside, blinded by tears. She had spent years chasing a mother who never wanted her when all along, Peter had been her family. She sank onto the grass, whispering, “Oh, Peter… I’m so sorry.”
Then, something fluttered down and landed in her lap. A bright yellow leaf, shaped exactly like a paper plane.
Maybe it was just the wind. Maybe it was Peter.
But Carly smiled. Because somehow, she knew the message: It’s going to be alright.
