Emma Richards had spent the past seven years in quiet loneliness after her husband passed away. With no children to care for her, she accepted that she’d live out her days alone. But then, something strange started happening.
One day, her doorbell rang. She wasn’t expecting anyone. When she opened the door, a masked delivery man stood there with several boxes.
“Ma’am, these were sent anonymously,” he said. “Security has checked them—they’re completely safe.”
Confused but intrigued, Emma opened the packages. Inside, she found brand-new kitchen appliances, beautiful clothes, and fresh groceries.
“Who would send me all this?” she wondered.
But the packages didn’t stop. Every day, the same delivery man arrived with more gifts—warm coats, delicious treats, even books. Emma couldn’t help but grow curious about the kind stranger behind it all.
One afternoon, as she accepted yet another delivery, she smiled at the man. “What’s your name, sweet boy?”
“Ted Harrison,” he said. “And Mrs. Richards, the sender asked me to give you this.” He handed her an envelope.
With shaking hands, Emma opened it. The note inside read:
Mrs. Richards, please let me know what you need, and I will provide it.
Emma was stunned. “Now they even want me to make requests? This is too much!”
Ted simply smiled. “Whoever’s sending these must love you very much.”
Touched, Emma decided to write down only the necessities—nothing extravagant. And from that day on, she started preparing little snacks for Ted whenever he stopped by. Their quick exchanges turned into long conversations over tea and cookies. Ted even started helping her with household chores, making her days feel a little less lonely.
But then, one day, Ted didn’t come.
Worried, Emma went to the local post office to ask about him.
“I’m looking for Ted Harrison,” she told the receptionist. “He delivers packages to my house every day.”
The receptionist frowned. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we don’t have anyone by that name working here.”
Emma’s heart sank. Who was he? Why had he disappeared?
Confused, she walked home, her mind racing. As she reached her front porch, she saw a small box waiting for her. Inside was a single key—and a note.
“I learned the truth a month ago when I hired a private investigator to find out where I came from. I know you regret what happened, but I want you to know—I don’t blame you. I understand you only wanted what was best for me.
