Late one evening, Alice hurried home along a dimly lit and deserted street, her heart gripped by fear. Having spent the entire day engrossed in the library to complete a term paper due soon, she hadn’t realized how quickly time slipped away. Only a short distance separated her from home when suddenly, footsteps echoed behind her, causing an icy chill to cascade down her spine. Shaken, she attempted to pull her phone from her pocket but was interrupted by a strange male voice:
“Excuse me, miss, where are you rushing off to? Perhaps I could escort you home?”
The drunken tone betrayed the man’s intoxication and sent waves of dread through Alice. She increased her pace, but the man abruptly seized her hand, halting her progress.
“Why the hurry? It’s a perfect night for a romantic stroll! You’re quite attractive! Come closer, let’s get to know each other,” he slurred, pulling her by her jacket’s hood and pressing her against him.
Alice screamed desperately, struggling to break free, but her strength was no match for his grasp. At that critical moment, a homeless man walking by noticed the assault and rushed to her aid. Without hesitation, he grabbed a nearby bottle and struck the assailant’s head forcefully. The attacker collapsed, unconscious.
Still trembling, Alice stood over the fallen man, tears streaming down her face.
“Let’s leave before he regains consciousness,” her rescuer urged, and Alice swiftly followed.
The pair soon reached a bustling street bathed in neon lights and streetlamps, where Alice felt her fear subsiding somewhat. Walking beside the man who had saved her, she glanced at him repeatedly. He appeared to be in his fifties, donned in tattered clothes with unkempt hair — unmistakably someone hardened by years on the streets. Sympathy welled in Alice’s heart as she observed him.
After accompanying Alice right up to her doorstep, the girl offered, “Let me prepare a hot meal for you.”
A grateful smile brightened the man’s weary face as he gladly accepted, reassuring her he had no ill intentions.
“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t dream of stealing,” Alice responded softly as she unlocked the door.
“You never know,” he replied with a shrug, “Not all would bring a homeless man home. But I mean no harm. I just crave genuine home-cooked food—it’s been ages since I enjoyed any.”
“First, wash your hands in the bathroom. I’ll heat some stuffed cabbage rolls,” Alice instructed.
The man quickly complied and, upon entering the living room, paused to survey his surroundings. His gaze unintentionally landed on a photograph on the dresser: a young Alice nestled between her mother and father. The sight unsettled him deeply. His hands trembled, lips quivered, and he stood motionless for minutes, tracing the photo’s surface gently with shaking fingers. Noticing this, Alice said softly, “That is my favorite photo — the only one with both my parents.”
She noticed his face pale and troubled, prompting her to ask, “Are you alright? Did something upset you?”
“It brought a memory back,” he muttered hoarsely.
“What memory? What do you mean?” Alice questioned with curiosity.
“This photo. That man there…” — he pointed at the father’s image — “I can say with certainty that’s me.”
Alice shook her head, doubting his claim. “I’m sorry, but that’s my father.”
“Where is he now?” the man asked trembling.
Honest and uncertain, Alice answered, “I don’t know.”
Later, seated at the kitchen table sharing dinner, Alice narrated her childhood story:
“I barely recall my father. This photograph is all that remains. Mom always told me he worked on long voyages and would return soon. I grew up with that hope. As I matured, I noticed Mom’s pain when mentioning him, so I stopped asking.”
“For many years, I wandered lost in a haze—forgotten and lonely. I envied men returning home to loving families, with children. I had none of that,” the man lamented. “I recall the day that shattered my world. Like those fortunate men, I was heading home from work, blessed with a loving wife and a little daughter named Alice, just three years old. Yet fate tore us apart. One evening, some men assaulted me, probably aware I had earned my salary and bonus. They beat and robbed me. Miraculously, I survived and was hospitalized, but I lost my memory. Waking up, I didn’t know who I was or what had happened. Without documents, money, or shelter after discharge, I was alone. Attempts to find work failed; no one wanted a tattered man. Over time, my strength faded. People shunned me. I roamed, slept in basements and tunnels, scavenged food, and often went unwashed for months. Today, I discovered my family was close all along. This photo seemed to light a long-darkened corner in my mind. Alice, do you believe my story?”
Alice was stunned, unable to speak, her eyes wide as she tried to comprehend if this was reality or a surreal dream. His words swirled like shimmering autumn leaves. Suddenly, Nikolai rose and rolled up his jacket sleeve, revealing a large heart-shaped birthmark on his wrist.
“Your mother, Vera, said angels blessed this mark,” he said softly. “She adored it and was overjoyed when you inherited it. It symbolizes a special bond between us.”
Trembling, Alice rolled up her sleeve, exposing the identical heart-shaped birthmark. Tears streamed down her face, blending joy and pain as she embraced her father tightly, laughing through sobs. This was a miracle — after years of yearning and unanswered questions, her long-awaited father was found.
Alice resolved never to lose him again. She urged Nikolai to stay in their home, setting up a place for him on the living room sofa. Her mother, Vera, was due to return the next day after a two-week visit to her aunt.
That night, Alice lay awake, reflecting on Nikolai’s words and touching her birthmark repeatedly, as though to confirm it wasn’t a dream. Having found her father, she promised never to let his absence haunt her again. At dawn, she arose to prepare breakfast but found Nikolai had already set the table with warm pancakes and sour cream.
“Homeless folks aren’t used to sleeping in beds,” he said shyly, noticing her surprise. “I loved cooking. When you were little, you always wanted my pancakes, not your mother’s.”
Filled with warmth and gratitude, Alice enjoyed the meal prepared by her biological father. Soon after, the front door opened.
“Alice, I’m home!” Vera called joyfully as she entered the living room.
Alice asked Nikolai to wait in the kitchen and ran to greet her mother.
“How was your trip, Mom?” she asked, embracing her.
“Tiring and hungry, but all right. What’s in the fridge?” Vera replied, heading to the kitchen.
Frozen at the doorway, Vera dropped her bag upon seeing Nikolai by the window.
“Welcome home, Vera,” Nikolai whispered softly, stepping forward but pausing for her reaction.
Alice immediately recognized from her mother’s expression that Vera recognized her husband. Her heart soared. Running up, she grasped her mother’s hand and whispered, “Dad is home. He’s with us.”
Suddenly, Vera’s amazement turned to anger. Approaching Nikolai, she struck him sharply on the cheek.
“You vanished for years, then suddenly appear? What do you want?”
“Vera, I will explain everything,” Nikolai stammered.
The family recounted the tragic events: the assault, lost memory, years of wandering, and the chance encounter. Silent for a time while digesting what she’d deemed impossible, Vera eventually sat down, drank water, and said,
“All these years, I hated you. I thought you abandoned us, betrayed us. I searched hospitals, morgues, police for years — you seemed to vanish into thin air. Every day, I hoped you’d walk through the door as if nothing happened. I couldn’t move on, couldn’t start anew. Now I need time to accept this. I’ve grown accustomed to life without you, and I fear adjusting to life with you again.”
After speaking, Vera left the kitchen, locking herself away. Nikolai comforted Alice, assuring her that Vera needed time. He said farewell to his daughter, promising never to disappear again and pledging to return.
Fate tested Nikolai again shortly after, when four young men attacked him nearby. Among them, he recognized the same youth who had assaulted Alice the prior night. The bitter January cold bit deep. Nikolai lay motionless near a snowbank by a trash can, bleeding and unable to move. Hours passed in fading consciousness.
He thought, this is how a forgotten life ends — wasted and harsh. Yet he refused to surrender. Having found his family and belonging, he entrusted himself to a higher power.
“Dad, can you hear me?” Alice’s anxious voice pierced the coldness.
Summoning effort, Nikolai opened his eyes to see his daughter leaning over him. Every ache and breath carried pain, but knowing he lived soothed his soul.
“Daddy, you frightened us terribly. We nearly lost you again. But that’s past. Nothing threatens you now. I won’t let you go again. You belong with us.”
At that moment, Vera entered the hospital room, quietly approached, and kissed his forehead. Alice shared how worried she had been, how she and her boyfriend searched for him in the cold and had found him near the trash bin. Prompt medical care followed.
After his release, Nikolai returned home to embrace a fresh start with his family. Within his heart, he understood a profound truth: no matter how deep the darkness, truth inevitably emerges, overcoming pain and time.
Key Insight: This touching story reveals that despite years of hardship and separation, love, hope, and truth have the power to reunite families and heal old wounds.