Carly had her whole life ahead of her, but the prom seemed like the most important thing. Despite struggling financially, her mother and grandmother had saved some money for the dress of her dreams. However, one bus trip forced her to choose between her own happiness and helping others.
Carly, a sixteen-year-old girl, lived with her mother, Dina, and grandmother, Holly, in a small, cozy apartment.
Life had never been particularly easy for the family. Money was always tight, and they often had to make sacrifices to get by.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
But despite their financial struggles, the three of them shared a deep bond that made the tough times a little more bearable.
They had love, and to Carly, that love meant everything.
Today, however, was different. Carly could feel the air buzzing with excitement.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Prom was just around the corner, and though she hadn’t said much about it, she had secretly been dreaming of wearing a beautiful dress to feel like she belonged.
Everyone at school had been talking about their extravagant outfits and fancy plans, and Carly had tried to hide her disappointment, knowing that her family couldn’t afford anything like that.
But this morning, something special happened. Dina and Holly called Carly into the kitchen, where they were both smiling warmly.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the room, and the sunlight streamed through the window, giving the moment a cozy glow. Dina motioned for Carly to sit down, her eyes sparkling.
“We know how important your prom is to you,” Dina began softly, her voice filled with affection.
“We’ve been saving up, and though it’s not much, we want you to have something special.”
Carly blinked in surprise as her grandmother slid an envelope across the table toward her. Curious, she opened it and saw several bills tucked neatly inside.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Her breath caught in her throat. It wasn’t a fortune, but it was more than enough to buy a beautiful dress.
Tears of gratitude filled her eyes as she looked up at the two women who had done everything they could to make her feel special.
“Thank you, Mom. Thank you, Grandma,” Carly whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I can’t believe you did this for me.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Holly reached out and gently squeezed Carly’s hand.
“You deserve it, sweetheart,” she said with a loving smile.
“Now go find the dress that makes you feel like the princess you are.”
Filled with joy and excitement, Carly quickly got ready and headed out to catch the bus to the local dress shop.
She clutched the money tightly in her hand, feeling like the luckiest girl in the world.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
She had no idea what was about to unfold, but for now, she was happy and hopeful, imagining the perfect dress that would make her prom night unforgettable.
As the bus rattled along the familiar bumpy roads, Carly sat near the front, clutching the envelope of money her mother and grandmother had given her.
Her heart buzzed with excitement at the thought of choosing something beautiful, something that would make her feel like a princess for just one night. She smiled to herself, imagining the shimmering gowns waiting for her at the dress shop.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
But then, a movement from the back of the bus caught her eye. A man, dressed in shabby clothes and looking quite nervous, sat hunched over in his seat.
He kept glancing around, as if worried someone might notice him.
Carly frowned slightly, finding his behavior strange, but quickly returned to her daydreams about the perfect dress. Maybe something with lace, or maybe satin?
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Suddenly, the bus screeched to a halt, jolting Carly out of her thoughts. Two workers from the bus station stepped on board, walking down the aisle, checking everyone’s tickets.
Carly calmly reached into her pocket, pulling out her ticket when it was her turn. The worker gave it a quick glance and moved on. All seemed normal—until they reached the man at the back.
The man froze, his hands trembling as the worker asked for his ticket. “I… I don’t have it,” he stammered, his voice shaky.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“I left my wallet at home.”
The workers exchanged annoyed glances.
“No ticket means a fine,” one of them said sternly.
“You’ll have to pay up, or we’ll have to call the authorities.”
Panic washed over the man’s face. “Please, I’m begging you,” he said, his voice trembling even more.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“I’m trying to get to my daughter. She’s sick, and I have to take her to the hospital. I… I forgot my wallet in my rush. Please, I just need to get to her.”
The bus workers didn’t seem convinced. One of them shook his head.
“We’ve heard every excuse in the book. If you can’t pay the fine, you’ll have to explain yourself to the police.”
Carly, who had been watching the scene unfold, felt a sudden tug at her heart. The man’s desperation was palpable, and she could see the fear in his eyes.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Something about his story struck a chord with her—she couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be so helpless in a situation like that, especially with a sick child waiting for him.
Carly hesitated for a moment before standing up. Her legs felt wobbly as she made her way to the back of the bus.
“Is it true?” she asked softly, turning to the man. “Is your daughter really sick?”
The man looked up at her, his eyes wide and filled with tears. “Yes, she is,” he whispered.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“I just need to get to her. Please, I wouldn’t lie about this.”
Carly’s mind raced as she glanced down at the envelope of money still clutched tightly in her hand.
But she couldn’t shake the feeling that there were more important things than a pretty dress.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Without thinking too much, she took a deep breath and handed the money to the bus workers.
“I’ll pay his fine,” she said quietly, feeling a strange mixture of sadness and resolve.
“His daughter’s health is more important than anything else.”
The man, whose name she later learned was Rick, stared at her in disbelief.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“I… I can’t believe you did that,” he said, his voice filled with gratitude.
“You’ve saved me. Thank you!”
Carly smiled weakly. “It’s okay. I hope she gets better soon.”
Rick asked her about her school and when her prom would be.
After exchanging a few more words of thanks, he hurried off the bus, racing to get to his daughter. Carly watched him go, her heart heavy.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
She had given up the money for her dream dress, but deep down, she hoped she had made the right decision.
As the bus pulled away, Carly sat back in her seat, unsure of what the rest of the day would bring but feeling a small flicker of hope that she had helped someone in need.
Carly walked home, her heart heavy with a mix of emotions. The excitement she had felt earlier was now replaced with sadness and uncertainty.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Still, as she reached her front door, she couldn’t help but feel a bit of dread.
When she stepped inside, her mother, Dina, and grandmother, Holly, were both waiting for her, their faces eager to see the dress they had sacrificed so much to buy for her.
Dina’s smile quickly faded when she saw Carly standing empty-handed.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“Carly, what happened?” Dina asked, concern creeping into her voice. “Where’s the dress?”
Carly hesitated, then explained everything—how the man on the bus had needed money to help his sick daughter and how she had used the money for the dress to pay his fine instead.
As she spoke, Dina’s face turned red with frustration.
“You gave away all the money to a stranger?” Dina exclaimed, her voice rising. “How could you be so naive, Carly? That man could have been lying to you! What if he tricked you?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Carly’s chest tightened. She hadn’t considered that she might have been fooled. Tears welled up in her eyes as she realized the weight of her decision.
Holly, sensing her granddaughter’s distress, stepped forward and wrapped her in a comforting hug.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“It’s okay, sweetie,” Holly said softly. “You did what you thought was right. Helping someone in need is never wrong. Remember, good things will come back to you.”
But Dina, still upset, added, “That was all the money we had for your prom! What are you going to do now?”
Carly wiped her tears, unsure of how to answer. Though her heart was conflicted, she knew she had acted with kindness, even if it came at a cost.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
The night of the prom arrived, and Carly stood outside the school, feeling a knot of nervousness in her stomach. She had chosen to wear an old, plain dress—one she had worn many times before.
The faded fabric didn’t sparkle or shine like the gowns of the other girls, and as she approached the entrance, she couldn’t help but feel out of place.
She glanced around and saw groups of girls, all dressed in beautiful, expensive gowns.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Their laughter floated in the air as they twirled in their dresses, showing off the designer outfits they had picked out.
Carly’s heart sank as she overheard some whispers and giggles directed at her. She tugged at the hem of her dress, feeling even smaller and more embarrassed.
Too shy to walk inside with the others, Carly sat down near the entrance, her hands folded in her lap. She felt the weight of the night pressing down on her, and for a moment, she regretted coming at all.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Then, she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder.
Startled, Carly looked up and saw Rick, the man from the bus, standing there with a bright smile. Beside him stood a little girl holding his hand.
“Carly, this is my daughter, Haley,” Rick said warmly. “She’s healthy now.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Haley beamed at Carly and handed her a gift-wrapped package. Carly hesitated, her hands trembling slightly as she took it.
Rick encouraged her with a nod, and she carefully unwrapped it to find a stunning prom dress inside. Her breath caught in her throat, and tears filled her eyes.
“I don’t know what to say,” Carly whispered, overwhelmed.
Rick smiled. “You’ve already said enough by helping me when no one else would. Now, it’s time for you to enjoy your night.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Carly’s heart swelled with gratitude. She quickly changed into the dress and, with a new sense of confidence, walked into her prom, feeling like the princess she had always dreamed of being.
The night felt magical, and Carly smiled, knowing that sometimes, kindness truly does come back when you least expect it.
Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.
My Husband Made a Schedule to ‘Improve’ Me as a Wife — I Taught Him a Valuable Lesson Instead
I was stunned when my husband, Jake, handed me a schedule to help me “become a better wife.” But instead of blowing up, I played along. Little did Jake know, I was about to teach him a lesson that would make him rethink his newfound approach to marriage.
I’ve always prided myself on being the level-headed one in our marriage. Jake, bless his heart, could get swept up in things pretty easily, whether it was a new hobby, or some random YouTube video that promised to change his life in three easy steps.
But we were solid until Jake met Steve. Steve was the type of guy who thought being loudly opinionated made him right, the type that talks right over you when you try to correct him.
He was also a perpetually single guy (who could have guessed?), who graciously dispensed relationship advice to all his married colleagues, Jake included. Jake should’ve known better, but my darling husband was positively smitten with Steve’s confidence.
I didn’t think much of it until Jake started making some noxious comments.
“Steve says relationships work best when the wife takes charge of the household,” he’d say. Or “Steve thinks it’s important for women to look good for their husbands, no matter how long they’ve been married.”
I’d roll my eyes and reply with some sarcastic remark, but it was getting under my skin. Jake was changing. He’d arch his eyebrows if I ordered takeout instead of cooking, and sigh when I let the laundry pile up because, God forbid, I had my own full-time job.
And then it happened. One night, he came home with The List.
He sat me down at the kitchen table, unfolded a piece of paper, and slid it across to me.
“I’ve been thinking,” he started, his voice dripping with a condescending tone I hadn’t heard from him before. “You’re a great wife, Lisa. But there’s room for improvement.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Oh really?”
He nodded, oblivious to the danger zone he was entering. “Yeah. Steve helped me realize that our marriage could be even better if you, you know, stepped up a bit.”
I stared at the paper in front of me. It was a schedule… and he’d written “Lisa’s Weekly Routine for Becoming a Better Wife” at the top in bold.
This guy had actually sat down and mapped out my entire week based on what Steve — a single guy with zero relationship experience — thought I should do to “improve” myself as a wife.
I was supposed to wake up at 5 a.m. every day to make Jake a gourmet breakfast. Then I’d hit the gym for an hour to “stay in shape.”
After that? A delightful lineup of chores: cleaning, laundry, ironing. And that was all before I left for work. I was supposed to cook a meal from scratch every evening and make fancy snacks for Jake and his friends when they came over to hang out at our place.
The whole thing was sexist and insulting on so many levels I didn’t even know where to start. I ended up staring at him, wondering if my husband had lost his mind.
“This will be great for you, and us,” he continued, oblivious.
“Steve says it’s important to maintain structure, and I think you could benefit from —”
“I could benefit from what?” I interrupted, my voice dangerously calm. Jake blinked, caught off guard by the interruption, but he recovered quickly.
“Well, you know, from having some guidance and a schedule.”
I wanted to throw that paper in his face and ask him if he’d developed a death wish. Instead, I did something that surprised even me: I smiled.
“You’re right, Jake,” I said sweetly. “I’m so lucky that you made me this schedule. I’ll start tomorrow.”
The relief on his face was instant. I almost felt sorry for him as I got up and stuck the list on the fridge. Almost. He had no idea what was coming.
The next day, I couldn’t help but smirk as I studied the ridiculous schedule again. If Jake thought he could hand me a list of “improvements,” then he was about to find out just how much structure our life could really handle.
I pulled out my laptop, opened up a fresh document, and titled it, “Jake’s Plan for Becoming the Best Husband Ever.” He wanted a perfect wife? Fine. But there was a cost to perfection.
Advertisement
I began by listing all the things he had suggested for me, starting with the gym membership he was so keen on. It was laughable, really.
“$1,200 for a personal trainer.” I typed, barely containing my giggle.
Next came the food. If Jake wanted to eat like a king, that wasn’t happening on our current grocery budget. Organic, non-GMO, free-range everything? That stuff didn’t come cheap.
“$700 per month for groceries,” I wrote. He’d probably need to chip in for a cooking class too. Those were pricey, but hey, perfection wasn’t free.
I leaned back in my chair, laughing to myself as I imagined Jake’s face when he saw this. But I wasn’t done. Oh no, the pièce de résistance was still to come.
See, there was no way I could juggle all these expectations while holding down my job. If Jake wanted me to dedicate myself full-time to his absurd routine, then he’d have to compensate for the loss of my income.
I pulled up a calculator, estimating the value of my salary. Then, I added it to the list, complete with a little note: “$75,000 per year to replace Lisa’s salary since she will now be your full-time personal assistant, maid, and chef.”
My stomach hurt from laughing at this point.
And just for good measure, I threw in a suggestion about him needing to expand the house. After all, if he was going to have his friends over regularly, they’d need a dedicated space that wouldn’t intrude on my newly organized, impossibly structured life.
“$50,000 to build a separate ‘man cave’ so Jake and his friends don’t disrupt Lisa’s schedule.”
By the time I was done, the list was a masterpiece. A financial and logistical nightmare, sure, but a masterpiece nonetheless. It wasn’t just a counterattack — it was a wake-up call.
I printed it out, set it neatly on the kitchen counter, and waited for Jake to come home. When he finally walked through the door that evening, he was in a good mood.
“Hey, babe,” he called out, dropping his keys on the counter. He spotted the paper almost immediately. “What’s this?”
I kept my face neutral, fighting the urge to laugh as I watched him pick it up. “Oh, it’s just a little list I put together for you,” I said sweetly, “to help you become the best husband ever.”
Jake chuckled, thinking I was playing along with his little game. But as he scanned the first few lines, the grin started to fade. I could see the wheels turning in his head, the slow realization that this wasn’t the lighthearted joke he thought it was.
“Wait… what is all this?” He squinted at the numbers, his eyes widening as he saw the total costs. “$1,200 for a personal trainer? $700 a month for groceries? What the hell, Lisa?”
I leaned against the kitchen island, crossing my arms.
“Well, you want me to wake up at 5 a.m., hit the gym, make gourmet breakfasts, clean the house, cook dinner, and host your friends. I figured we should budget for all of that, don’t you think?”
His face turned pale as he flipped through the pages. “$75,000 a year? You’re quitting your job?!”
I shrugged. “How else am I supposed to follow your plan? I can’t work and be the perfect wife, right?”
He stared at the paper, dumbfounded.
The numbers, the absurdity of his own demands, it all hit him at once. His smugness evaporated, replaced by a dawning realization that he had seriously, seriously messed up.
“I… I didn’t mean…” Jake stammered, looking at me with wide eyes. “Lisa, I didn’t mean for it to be like this. I just thought —”
“You thought what? That I could ‘improve’ myself like some project?” My voice was calm, but the hurt behind it was real. “Jake, marriage isn’t about lists or routines. It’s about respect. And if you ever try to ‘fix’ me like this again, you’ll be paying a hell of a lot more than what’s on that paper.”
Silence hung in the air, thick and uncomfortable. Jake’s face softened, his shoulders slumping as he let out a deep sigh.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t realize how ridiculous it was. Steve made it sound sensible, but now I see it’s… it’s toxic. Oh God, I’ve been such a fool.”
I nodded, watching him carefully. “Yes, you have. Honestly, have you looked at Steve’s life? What makes you think he has the life experience to give you advice about marriage? Or anything else?”
The look on his face as my words hit home was priceless.
“You’re right. And he could never afford to live like this.” He slapped the list with the back of his hand. “He… he has no idea about the costs involved, or how demeaning this is. Oh, Lisa, I got carried away again, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but we’ll recover. Now, let’s tear that paper up and go back to being equals.”
He smiled weakly, the tension breaking just a little. “Yeah… let’s do that.”
We ripped up the list together, and for the first time in weeks, I felt like we were back on the same team.
Maybe this was what we needed, a reminder that marriage isn’t about one person being “better” than the other. It’s about being better together.
Leave a Reply