Children made fun of a poorly dressed girl they’d ride the school bus with, teasing her that she stunk. They were surprised to see her on TV one day, which changed how they saw her entirely.
Nikki was not like everybody else in the first grade. She was a lot shorter than her classmates and was frail and fragile.
Everybody in her class knew that Nikki only had her mother living with her and that they lived a poor life. Unfortunately, one day, things went from bad to worse.
Nikki would take the bus home every day as her mother worked two jobs to raise her. The bus driver, Mrs. Evans, was already used to Nikki riding the bus by herself and would expect her every day.
Nikki would walk to the bus stop alone every day, and no one knew why. | Source: Pexels
One day, Mrs. Evans noticed that Nikki looked very sad as she waited for the bus. She was dressed in old clothes filled with holes, runs, and stains.
“Good morning, Nikki!” Mrs. Evans greeted. “Are you alright?”
Nikki looked up at Mrs. Evans and smiled. “Good morning, Mrs. Evans. Yes, I’m fine,” she said, getting on the bus. She was glad that someone spoke to her, as she was used to everybody else ignoring her.
As she boarded the bus, there were already several children inside. One girl, Martha Reeves, was a spoiled rich girl from the second grade. She spotted Nikki immediately and laughed at her clothes.
“Oh my gosh!” the young girl exclaimed. “Look at that scarecrow!” she said, pointing at Nikki.
Nikki was embarrassed that the girls in the school bus decided to make fun of her. | Source: Pexels
Nikki looked down, ashamed at the sudden attention being placed on her. She quietly sat on her seat on the last row of the bus and cried.
“Where did you find these clothes? In the garbage?” Martha asked, going closer to Nikki’s seat to tease her. As she got closer, she suddenly pinched her nose.
“Ew! You stink like a garbage bag!” she told Nikki. Martha’s friends chimed in, pinching their noses as well.
“Do you bathe or even brush your teeth?” one said, laughing.
“You can’t be serious. You can’t go to school looking and smelling like this,” Martha said, pulling Nikki from her seat. “Come on, go home! Get out of the bus and return to your filthy home,” she said, tugging at her arm.
Kids would make fun of Nikki for how she looked every day. | Source: Pexels
Nikki was in pain, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she quietly sobbed as the girls picked on her and tried to kick her off the school bus.
Then, suddenly, the girls jumped at a scream. “That’s enough! Stop torturing this poor girl,” she said.
Mrs. Evans heard everything and decided to stop the bus to stand up for Nikki. She walked towards the back as soon as she yelled and asked Nikki to sit in front, right behind the driver’s seat.
After they were dropped off at school, Mrs. Evans could not stop thinking about the incident on the bus. She decided to find out why Nikki would show up to school in dirty-looking clothes.
So, after work, she dropped by Nikki’s house. She learned the whole truth and was surprised at what she saw there. Mrs. Evans’ daughter worked in a media company. She called her daughter and immediately told her Nikki’s story.
Nikki would sit quietly at school everyday because she didn’t want to draw attention to herself. | Source: Pexels
The following week, Nikki showed up at the bus stop in ragged clothes. Martha and her friends covered their noses and whispered amongst themselves. Mrs. Evans shook her head, but she was glad that the girls no longer said anything mean to Nikki’s face.
A couple of days later, there was a meeting at school for teachers, children, and their parents. Nikki and her mother did not show up. Mrs. Evans walked into the classroom and turned on the TV in the middle of the meeting.
One of the most-watched TV channels was airing a story about Nikki. It was shot by Mrs. Evans’ daughter and picked up by the station.
A famous TV station decided to cover Nikki’s story to inspire others. | Source: Pexels
When Mrs. Evans learned about Nikki’s story, she realized that the whole country could learn a thing or two about how she lived. Despite being a small and frail girl, she had a powerful character that inspired the bus driver.
Nikki grew up without a father and had learned the value of independence. Nikki’s mother fell ill, and insurance decided not to cover the treatment. So, as Nikki’s mom was bedridden, she could no longer take Nikki to school, cook her meals, or clean the house.
Nikki took on the responsibilities of taking care of herself and her mother while her mom was sick. She cleaned the house, took out the garbage, cooked food for her and her mom, washed her own clothes, and fed her mom medicine.
After watching the show, Martha and Nikki’s other classmates realized why Nikki’s clothes were always tattered and dirty – she had been taking on responsibilities even before going to school.
The TV news glorified the small yet brave and strong Nikki. Mrs. Evans revealed the real reason why she decided to turn on the TV, addressing the parents in the room.
Mrs. Evans attended the parent-teacher conference to share Nikki’s story. | Source: Pexels
“Your children mock Nikki on the bus every day. Kids, I hope the show taught you how important it is to be kind to everyone we meet every day. Everybody is fighting a battle not everyone knows about, and it’s best to be kind no matter the situation,” she told them.
Since that day, nobody mocked Nikki ever again. The kids would always say hi first and treat her with kindness by offering her snacks and drinks on the way to school.
Martha and her friends also gifted Nikki with some of their dresses so that she could wear clean clothes to school every day. Their parents also pooled money so Nikki’s mom could undergo surgery.
Soon after, the woman was able to return home from the hospital and begin working again. As they got home, they were surprised to see the director of the TV station waiting for them with a check.
“These are donations from the TV viewers moved by your story. We hope you use this to secure Nikki’s future and better your living situation,” the director said as she handed the check.
With the money, Nikki and her mom could secure her college tuition. They were also able to buy themselves a small new house and live comfortably.
What can we learn from this story?
- A Scottish proverb once said: “do not judge by appearances; a rich heart may be under a poor coat.” The children were quick to judge Nikki for how she looked, without realizing that she had been struggling to take care of herself while her mother was sick. It’s important not to judge others quickly, as we never know what they’re going through.
Share this story with your loved ones. It might inspire them and make their day.
If you liked this story, you might like this one about a school bus driver who found out one of the students riding his bus did not get off at the last stop for the reason that taught him a valuable lesson.
This account is inspired by our reader’s story and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.
My Mom Advised Against Visiting for 3 Months Citing ‘Renovations’ — When I Unexpectedly Showed Up, I Uncovered the Gruesome Secret She Was Concealing
For three months, Mia’s mom insisted she stay away while her house was being renovated. But something didn’t sit right. When Mia arrives unannounced, she finds the door unlocked, the house eerily pristine, and a strange smell in the air. Mia is about to stumble upon a devastating secret.
The city was just waking up as I drove through its empty streets. Early morning light painted everything in soft hues, but I couldn’t shake this gnawing feeling in my gut. Something was wrong.
I gripped the steering wheel tighter, my knuckles turning white. Mom’s voice echoed in my head as my memory replayed all those hurried phone calls and weird excuses. “Oh, honey, I can’t have you over. The house is a mess with all these renovations.”
But three months without seeing her? That wasn’t like us. We used to be thick as thieves, her and me.
I worried about what had changed as I waited at an intersection. Mom had always been house-proud, constantly tweaking and updating our home. But this felt different.
Her voice on the phone lately… she always sounded so tired. Sad, even. And every time I’d try to press her on it, she’d brush me off. “Don’t worry about me, Mia. How’s that big project at work going? Have you gotten that promotion yet?”
I knew she was keeping something from me, and I’d let it slide for far too long.
So here I was, way too early on a Saturday morning, driving across town because I couldn’t shake this feeling that something was terribly wrong.
As I pulled up to Mom’s house, my heart sank. The garden, usually Mom’s pride and joy, was overgrown and neglected. Weeds poked through the flower beds, and the rosebushes looked like they hadn’t seen pruning shears in months.
“What the hell?” I muttered. I killed the engine and rushed to the gate.
I walked up to the front door, my footsteps echoing in the quiet morning. When I tried the handle, it turned easily. Unlocked. That wasn’t like Mom at all.
Fear prickled across my skin as I stepped inside. There was no dust, or building materials in sight. No sign of a drop cloth or any paint cans either. And what was that smell? Sharp and citrusy. The place was too clean, too sterile. Like a hospital.
“Mom?” I called out.
My eyes swept the entryway, landing on a familiar photo on the side table. It was us at the beach when I was maybe seven or eight. I was grinning at the camera, gap-toothed and sunburned, while Mom hugged me from behind, laughing.
The glass was smudged with fingerprints, mostly over my face. That was weird. Mom was always wiping things down, keeping everything spotless. But this… it looked like someone had been touching the photo a lot, almost frantically.
A chill ran down my spine.
“Mom?” I called again, louder this time. “You here?”
That’s when I heard it. A faint creaking came from upstairs.
My heart raced as I climbed the stairs. The quiet felt heavy, pressing in on me from all sides. I tried to steady my breathing as I walked down the hallway toward Mom’s room.
“Mom?” My voice came out as a whisper now. “It’s me. It’s Mia.”
I pushed open her bedroom door, and the world seemed to tilt on its axis.
There she was, struggling to sit up in bed. But this… this couldn’t be my mother. The woman before me was frail and gaunt, her skin sallow against the white sheets. And her hair… oh God, her beautiful hair was gone, replaced by a scarf wrapped around her head.
“Mia?” Her voice was weak, barely above a whisper. “You aren’t supposed to be here.”
I stood frozen in the doorway, my mind refusing to process what I was seeing.
“Mom? What… what happened to you?”
She looked at me with those familiar brown eyes, now sunken in her pale face. “Oh, honey,” she sighed. “I didn’t want you to find out like this.”
I stumbled to her bedside, dropping to my knees. “Find out what? Mom, please, tell me what’s going on.”
She reached out a thin hand, and I clasped it in both of mine. It felt so fragile, like a bird’s bones.
“I have cancer, Mia,” she said softly.
Time stopped and my world narrowed down to how dry her lips looked as she spoke and the hollow feeling in my chest. I couldn’t breathe.
“… undergoing chemotherapy for the past few months,” she finished.
“Cancer? But… but why didn’t you tell me? Why did you keep this from me?”
Tears welled up in her eyes. “I didn’t want to burden you, sweetheart. You’ve been working so hard for that promotion. I thought… I thought I could handle this on my own.”
Anger flared up inside me, hot and sudden. “Handle it on your own? Mom, I’m your daughter! I should have been here! I should have known!”
“Mia, please,” she pleaded. “I was trying to protect you. I didn’t want you to see me like this, so weak and…”
“Protect me?” I cut her off, my voice rising as tears blurred my vision. “By lying to me? By keeping me away when you needed me most? How could you do that?”
Mom’s face crumpled, and she started to cry, too. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m so sorry, Mia. I thought I was doing the right thing. I didn’t want to be a burden.”
I climbed onto the bed beside her, careful not to jostle her too much, and pulled her into my arms.
“Oh, Mom,” I whispered. “You could never be a burden to me. Never.”
We sat there for a long time, just holding each other and crying. All the fear and pain of the past few months came pouring out.
When we finally calmed down, I helped Mom get more comfortable, propping her up with pillows. Then I went downstairs and made us both some tea, my mind reeling with everything I’d learned.
Back in her room, I perched on the edge of the bed, handing her a steaming mug. “So,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “Tell me everything. From the beginning.”
And she did. She told me about the diagnosis, the shock, and the fear. How she’d started treatment right away, hoping to beat it before I even knew something was wrong.
“But it spread so fast,” she said, her voice trembling. “By the time I realized how bad it was, I was already so sick.”
I took her hand again, squeezing gently. “Mom, don’t you get it? I love you. All of you. Even the sick parts, even the scared parts. Especially those parts. That’s what family is for.”
She looked at me, her eyes filled with a mixture of love and regret. “I just… I’ve always been the strong one, you know? Your rock. I didn’t know how to be anything else.”
I smiled through my tears. “Well, now it’s my turn to be the rock. I’m not going anywhere, Mom. We’re in this together, okay?”
She nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Okay.”
I moved back in with Mom later that week. I also took time off work and called in every favor I could to get Mom the best care possible, even if all we could do was keep her as comfortable as possible.
We spent her final days together, sharing stories and memories, laughing and crying together. And when the end came, I was right there beside her.
“I’m sorry, Mia,” she whispered. “I wanted… I never took you to Disneyland… I promised to take you camping in the mountains… so many promises I’ve broken…”
“It’s not important.” I moved closer to her on the bed. “What matters is that you were always there for me when I needed you. You always knew how to make me smile when I was sad, or make everything better when I messed something up.” I sniffed. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without you, Mom.”
Her eyes cracked open, and she smiled faintly at me.
“You’re going to be okay, Mia. You’re so strong… my amazing daughter. I love you so much.”
I put my arms around her and hugged her as tightly as I dared. I’m not sure exactly when she slipped away, but when I eventually pulled back, Mom was gone.
I stayed there for a long time, trying to hold onto the warmth of our last hug as sobs racked my body, replaying her last words in my mind. Trying to keep her with me, no matter how impossible that was.
Saying goodbye to Mom was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But I wouldn’t trade those moments I spent with her for anything in the world.
Because in the end, that’s what love is. It’s showing up, even when it’s hard. It’s being there, even in the darkest moments. It’s holding on tight and never letting go.
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