Fate’s Nesting Doll: A Rescue in Hard Times
Emily was already drifting off when her phone shattered the silence. Groggily, she glanced at the screen—her younger sister Lucy was calling. “Here we go again,” she thought, answering sleepily.
“Lucy, we’re asleep.”
“Hi, sorry, just a quick ask. Could you lend me some money till payday? Please? Tom still hasn’t sent the child support.”
“How much do you need?”
“Just enough to get Lily and me through till Monday. I’m getting an advance. Can you believe the nursery just sprung a last-minute payment for their party tomorrow? Will you help?”
“Fine, Lucy, I’ll transfer it now.”
“Thanks, sis, love you!” Lucy blew a kiss through the phone and hung up.
Emily rolled over, but sleep wouldn’t return. Lucy’s call stirred up old worries. Her sister had always been lucky—top grades, sports, friends—everything came easily. But after marrying Tom, her life spiralled. Maybe it was wrong to think it, but their divorce had been a relief. With Tom, Lucy had faded, like a shadow of herself.
With thoughts of her sister and little niece, Emily finally fell asleep.
The next evening, Lucy dropped by Emily’s little flat on the outskirts of Manchester.
“Hi, need your advice,” she said, pulling a ring from her pocket. “I’m pawning my wedding band. Went through everything last night—this is the only thing worth selling. Definitely don’t need a reminder of Tom.”
“Things that bad?”
“Yeah. Thought I’d get that promotion at work—the spot was open. Boss kept praising me, gave me the tough jobs. Then they picked Sarah Davies instead. She hardly tries, always leaves early. But me? ‘You’ve got a kid, always off sick.’ Just my luck, Em. What do you think? Will they give me anything for it?”
“It’s a nice ring, stone’s flawless. Should fetch a decent price. But it’s not about the money, Lu. A ring from a failed marriage? That’s bad juju. Get rid of it, quick.”
The pawnbroker examined the ring carefully and offered a fair sum. “Mind if I ask—why sell? Need the cash? Divorced? Both? Not planning to buy it back? Smart move. Got a daughter? Good for you.”
While the old man filled out the paperwork, Lucy wandered, eyeing the displays—phones, tablets, jewellery. Then she spotted a painted nesting doll.
“Handmade, vintage,” the pawnbroker said. “Some bloke brought it in ages back. Been gathering dust. Take it, cheap. Your girl’ll love it.”
Lucy hadn’t planned to buy anything. But before she knew it, she’d paid and left with the doll.
Lily was enchanted. Wooden toys were old-fashioned, something she’d never seen before.
A knock at the door—Emily, arms full of grocery bags.
“Em, you’re relentless! Thank you!”
“Can’t relax knowing my girls have an empty fridge,” Emily said, unpacking milk, bread, cheese, crisps, and yoghurts.
“Auntie Em, look what I’ve got!” Lily dashed over, yoghurt in one hand, nesting doll in the other.
“Gorgeous! Look, Lily, it opens—pop! And there’s another inside. And another! Wanna try?” Emily handed it back.
“Em, made tea—stay for a cuppa?” Lucy sliced cheese and ham.
“Mum, the dolls stopped,” Lily pouted, holding the tiniest one.
“No, sweetheart, this one opens too—just stiff,” Emily twisted it firmly. “Oh—Lucy, look!”
Inside, tightly rolled banknotes and a note:
“Thanks to those who helped me. Passing it on to someone who needs it more. When things get better, do the same.”
“Should we take it back?” Lucy turned the note in her fingers.
“Don’t be daft! You bought it. Who’d you return it to? Nesting dolls mean luck. If it found you, it’s yours,” Emily said firmly.
She was right. Lucy’s dark streak ended, and her luck turned.
She quit her dead-end job, polished her CV. The money from the doll tided them over. Soon, she landed a new role—better pay, a team that appreciated her.
Their mum, who’d never forgiven Lucy for marrying Tom, suddenly softened. She offered to watch Lily after nursery, giving Lucy peace to work.
At her new job, Lucy caught the eye of James, a charming IT bloke who loved her energy and smile.
Just like old times—everything clicked into place.
When life settled, Lucy remembered the note. She tucked away the same amount, slipping it into a new nesting doll. Every morning, passing the park, she’d see a young mum with her son in a wheelchair. One day, while the boy napped, Lucy left the doll in his lap and hurried off.
Her heart swelled. She imagined their surprise finding it. Lucy had repaid the unseen kindness that saved her. Little helps can work magic—and a nesting doll, that old symbol of hope? Well, that’s even better.
