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Single Dad of Two Girls Wakes up to Prepare Breakfast. Finds It Surprisingly Cooked

Being a single dad is like being caught in a never-ending tornado of emotions and duties. My 4-and 5-year-old daughters are my everything. Since my wife abruptly left us, citing her youth and desire to travel as her reasons, I have taken it upon myself to be a parent and provider.

Time is of the essence every morning as I scramble to get them dressed, fed, and off to daycare before I leave for work. No matter how tired you are, nothing beats seeing their happy faces and hearing their laughter.

Something out of the ordinary occurred, though, and my frantic routine was completely disrupted.

An Enigma Over Breakfast

The morning was like any other. As per my typical pattern, I awoke drowsy and exhausted, and promptly set out to complete the routine of getting my girls ready. I thought they would be making their customary oatmeal with milk, so we headed to the kitchen. Surprisingly, three plates of pancakes, topped with jam and fruit, were set up for our arrival. My initial emotion was one of shock. I woke up and wondered if I had dreamed about making breakfast.

There was no one home when I hurriedly checked. My girls, who were also feeling sleepy, failed to understand my inquiries on the enigmatic breakfast. Their pure excitement was accompanied with savoring the pancakes’ delectable flavor. I hastily made my way to work, my thoughts still stuck on the strange happenings of the morning, regardless of how strange they were.

A Surprising Lawn

Working that day was a total haze. I couldn’t help but dwell on the pancakes and the deserted house. I tried to convince myself that it was just a fluke or a temporary memory loss. However, I was greeted with yet another pleasant surprise upon my return home that evening. I finally got around to mowing the lawn, which had been getting a bad rap from my hectic schedule. The edges were flawless, and the grass was cut precisely. It seemed like a skilled gardener had been busy.

None of this could be explained by chance alone. Did you happen to know who was assisting me? Also, why were they being so clandestine about it? I felt compelled to uncover the identity of this enigmatic donor since my curiosity was aroused.

The Founding

I got up early the following morning, hell-bent on finding out what had happened. I got out of bed stealthily, being sure not to wake my girls, and hid in the kitchen. Watching the minutes pass by made my heart race with excitement. Just before six in the morning, I detected a slight squeak from the rear door. Peering through a crack in the door, I felt my breath catch in my throat.

I was startled to see the old Harrises, who live in my neighborhood, stealthily making their way into the kitchen. Putting a pancake plate on the table was a feat of remarkable quickness on Mrs. Harris’s part, as Mr. Harris stood guard by the door. I hadn’t anticipated such kindness from them, though they had always waved and spoken pleasantries with us.

You remember that I left you a spare key when I initially moved here, didn’t you? I inquired, my memory jogging back to the plan.

“Yes, you did,” Mr. Harris responded, his expression warming up as he smiled. It has come to our attention that you have been struggling to handle everything independently. We merely wished to lend a hand without intruding on your privacy.
I was rendered stunned by their remarks. This modest couple had been watching out for us, helping us out in the best thoughtful way they could, while we dealt with our problems.

“Why were you so coy about telling me?” While I was still trying to take it all in, I inquired.

“We preferred not to interfere,” Mrs. Harris clarified. Because we are aware of your great pride, we did not want you to think that you were helpless. Still, everyone needs a helping hand every once in a while.

As I expressed my gratitude, tears welled up in my eyes. I couldn’t help but feel really lucky to have such thoughtful neighbors after their generosity touched me so deeply.
A Fresh Start

We began to see the Harrises on a daily basis after that. When I was late, Mrs. Harris assisted with the girls, made me meals sometimes, and taught me how to be more efficient with my time. The lawn and other errands around the house were attended to by Mr. Harris. They were a part of our extended family, and the girls quickly warmed up to their new grandparents.

The importance of community and support and the freedom to accept assistance were both brought home to me by their altruistic deeds. Although being a single parent is certainly difficult, our unexpected guardian angels have brought us much more joy and love.