She was barely nineteen years old, when she became the single mother of a blue-eyed, rosy cheeked baby girl. Her mother and father both disowned her and the illigitamate child, and her boyfriend took off months before the baby was born. She had no one to turn to, not when she ran out of diapers and wrapped her tdaughter in small hand-towel, not when the electric was due and she had to sell most of her stuff to pay for it, and not now, as she held a bottle of pills in one and and a glass of liquor in the other.

The baby screamed in the upstairs bedroom, wailing for some attention from her crib. Tears streamed down her face at the thought of her daughter facing the world without a mother or father. She watched the blood drip from the glass and onto the hard linoleum floor of the kitchen. The gash on her wrist, drenched in blood was deep enough to ease her internal pain so she could think this through, but not deep enough to kill her. "I can't take this" she thought, blocking the screaming baby out and openin the bottle of pills. As the orange plastic touched her lips, a deep bang on the front door shook the house. She jumped, sending the pills scattering to the floor, and the liquor leaping out of the glass held firmly in her hand. "Who is it?" she called, her voice cracking.No one answered, so she called again. No reply.

She stood up, wrapping her wrist with the bottom of her shirt, and walked toward the door. Slipped underneath it was a pink envelope with the words "I love you" scribbled in black ink on the front. Curiosity got the best of her as she slid her finger under the tab and pulled the contents out. Her legs gre weak, and her fingers trembled as the five one hundred dollar bills fluttered to the floor. She swung the door open to find this anonymous angel, but found no one.
"Hello?" she called out the doorway, the reply was the skidding tires of an unidentifired black SUV as they drove off into the darkness. She turned back into her house and closed the door behind her. As she reached to pick up the money a slip of paper fell out from underneath one of the bills.


My friend, it began. My Father told me you were in some sort of trouble. I hope this helps.

No signature, no adress. Nothing. Deep within her heart she knew who this stranger was talking about. The baby stopped crying as the tears spilled over her eyelids, and she droppd to her knees.
"My Father," she began..


Just remember, a random act of kindness could change a life. It could even save a life.