For Nancy, her son Henry was everything. She couldn’t imagine life without him. It had been 23 years since the tragic accident that claimed Henry’s life, and every year on the anniversary, she honored his memory by bringing his favorite pie to his grave. But this year, something unexpected was about to happen.
For over two decades, Nancy, now 61, never missed a year. She would bake Henry’s favorite pie—an apple and cinnamon delight—and take it to his resting place. The scent of apples and cinnamon always brought back memories of her little boy eagerly running into the kitchen, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the fresh pie. It had been a tradition they both loved, a way for her to stay connected to him even after he was gone.
Since the accident that took Henry’s life at 17, this ritual became Nancy’s way of coping with her grief. The pain of losing him never truly left her, but baking the pie gave her a small sense of comfort, a way to feel close to her son.
On this particular day, as she carefully carried the freshly baked pie to the cemetery, the weight of the dish seemed heavier than usual. She placed the pie on Henry’s grave, gently running her fingers over the smooth stone that had become so familiar. “I miss you every day,” she whispered softly. “I baked your favorite pie again… I wish we could share it just one more time.”
With a heavy heart, she kissed her fingers and touched the gravestone, saying her quiet goodbye before leaving, as she always did. But the next day, when Nancy returned to clean up, she noticed something shocking—the pie was gone. Instead of the untouched or spoiled pie she usually found, the plate was empty. And on it was a folded piece of paper.
With trembling hands, Nancy opened the note. The handwriting was shaky, and it simply said, “Thank you.”
Anger surged through her. Who would take Henry’s pie? It was a private ritual, a way to honor her son, and now a stranger had intruded on that sacred moment. Determined to find out who had taken the pie, Nancy decided to take matters into her own hands.
The next day, she baked another pie and placed it on the grave, but this time, she didn’t leave. She hid behind a nearby tree, watching and waiting. After an hour, she saw a small figure approach. It wasn’t the thoughtless thief she imagined—it was a young boy, no older than 9, with ragged clothes and dirt on his face.
Nancy’s heart softened as she watched the boy kneel by the grave. He pulled out a scrap of paper and carefully wrote, “Thank you,” just like before. He wasn’t stealing out of disrespect; he was simply hungry.
As the boy reached for the pie, Nancy stepped out from her hiding place. Startled, the boy dropped the pie and backed away in fear. “I’m sorry,” he cried, “I was just so hungry. Please don’t be mad.”
Nancy’s heart broke for him. She knelt beside him and spoke gently, “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m not mad. What’s your name?”
“Jimmy,” he whispered, ashamed.
“Well, Jimmy,” Nancy said with a soft smile, “you don’t have to steal. If you’re hungry, all you had to do was ask.”
Tears welled in Jimmy’s eyes as he explained how little he had to eat and how much the pie had meant to him. Nancy couldn’t help but think of Henry—how he had never known hunger, how he had always had more than enough. Jimmy, on the other hand, looked like he had been living with hunger for far too long.
“Come with me,” she said, standing up and offering her hand. “I’ll bake you a fresh pie, just for you.”
Jimmy hesitated, unsure if he could trust her, but eventually took her hand. Nancy led him back to her home, where she prepared a pie, just as she had done so many times for Henry. As the warm scent of apples and cinnamon filled the kitchen, Jimmy watched in awe. When the pie was ready, she placed it in front of him.
“This one’s all for you,” she said with a smile.
Jimmy took a bite, his eyes lighting up with joy. “This is the best pie I’ve ever had,” he said, his voice full of gratitude.
As she watched him eat, Nancy felt something she hadn’t felt in years—a deep sense of peace. For so long, she had baked pies for a son who could no longer enjoy them, but now, she was sharing that love with a boy who truly needed it. In some small way, it felt like Henry had brought Jimmy into her life, a reminder that love and kindness should always be passed on.
By the time Jimmy finished the last slice, Nancy’s heart was full. She realized that this unexpected connection was perhaps Henry’s way of showing her that even in her grief, she could still bring comfort to others. Maybe this was her new purpose—honoring Henry by helping those in need.
As Jimmy looked up with a smile, Nancy felt warmth and gratitude in her heart. She had found a new way to carry Henry’s memory forward, and it filled her soul with peace.
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Mom of rare twins with Down syndrome shuts down critics with photo showing how beautiful they are
Twin pregnancies are still quite uncommon, despite a 72% increase in likelihood between 1980 and 2018. Twins are born in about 33 of every 1,000 births.
What are the probabilities of having identical twins? Out of 1,000 births, three to four are identical twins on average. So once more, not very common.
Savannah Combs, age 23, was overjoyed to learn she was expecting twins. She then discovered that they both have Down syndrome, which is also unusual.
Of course, the information was upsetting. Savannah and her husband Justin Ackerman were aware that due of her illness and the state of her children, some people would judge them.
But Savannah finds that to be the same thing that makes them so beautiful.
“It’s very rare what they have, but they’ve been my little gems,” she mentioned.
Savannah, a Middleburg, Florida native, posted videos of her postpartum journey on TikTok with her kids Kennadi Rue and Mckenli Ackerman, and the videos immediately acquired popularity.
Savannah said in one of her videos that she was advised to abort her children because they wouldn’t survive.
She made the choice to keep them and give them a shot.
”Every [prenatal] appointment they were alive was a blessing to me,” Savannah explained.
Her spouse was gone at boot camp when she found out they both had Down syndrome.
When Savannah was admitted to the hospital, she was 29 weeks along with her pregnancy and gave birth to twin daughters. Kennadi Rue and Mckenli Ackerman, identical twin daughters, were born on May 12, 2021.
The twins had to spend a few weeks in the NICU before going home because they were born two months early.
“They’re called mono di twins, meaning that they had their own sacs, but they shared the same placenta, meaning that they were going to be identical,” she said.
“Mo di twins as it is, it’s like very rare. And then you throw Down syndrome on top of it, it’s like one in 2 million.”
They are just like any other youngster, according to Savannah, despite having an uncommon disease.
“They have feelings. They have a beating heart. They know how to talk. They know how to do things you do. They will get there,” she said.
“Like I said, it may be a step behind but they’re going to do it. I’ve learned these kids are feisty little things and happy little things.”Savannah posts wonderful updates on TikTok as each youngster continues to reach their milestones.
“I’m going to let them know that they’re just like us and they’re going to get there as long as they put their minds to it.”
Nevertheless, some people feel compelled to be critical of Savannah and her family. The young mother was forced to respond to some extremely cruel people on social media as a result.
”I wouldn’t want those babies; if mine came out like that, they would be straight up for adoption,” one person wrote to the mother.
Savannah, though, had the ideal response, which she posted on Facebook.
“I said, good thing they weren’t born to you and were born to me. God knew what he was doing by giving these babies to the right parents who would love them regardless.”
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