My Husband Gifted Me a Christmas Present That Outraged Me – Next Year, I Plotted a Revenge

Some gifts warm the heart. My husband’s Christmas present? It ignited a fire of rage. I spent the next year plotting the perfect revenge, and when he unwrapped his gift, the look on his face was my real Christmas present.

Have you ever received a gift that made your stomach drop and your blood boil at the same time? I’m not talking about an ugly sweater or a fruit cake nobody wants. I mean the kind of present that makes you question if the person who gave it to you knows you at all. Or worse, if they even care. What my husband Murphy did one Christmas had me planning revenge for an entire year.

Presents under a Christmas tree | Source: Unsplash

Presents under a Christmas tree | Source: Unsplash

Money was always tight in our household.

Murphy worked at the metal fabrication plant downtown, pulling double shifts that left his hands calloused and his back aching. He’d come home smelling of metal shavings and machine oil, proud of providing for our family but too tired to notice anything else.

Meanwhile, I cobbled together an income tutoring kids in math and watching the neighbors’ children, which wasn’t much but helped keep food on the table and the lights on. Between mortgage payments and growing teenagers, we pinched every penny until it screamed.

A woman putting a coin in a piggy bank | Source: Pexels

A woman putting a coin in a piggy bank | Source: Pexels

We had a mutual agreement about Christmas: we’d scrape together enough for presents for our girls and our parents, but nothing for each other. It worked for 16 years of our marriage until Murphy decided to change the rules without warning me first.

“Susan! Come here, I got something for you!” Murphy’s voice boomed through our small house one evening, ten days before Christmas.

The excitement in his voice made me drop the math worksheet I was grading for little Tommy, who still couldn’t quite grasp long division.

A man smiling | Source: Midjourney

A man smiling | Source: Midjourney

I wiped my hands on my apron and walked into the living room.

There he stood, grinning like a kid who’d just found the cookie jar, with a massive box wrapped in sparkly paper that must have cost at least $5 a roll.

“What’s this about?” I asked, my heart racing.

The box was huge, nearly reaching my waist, and wrapped with unusual care for a man who typically considered tape and newspaper to be good enough for any package.

A huge gift box near a Christmas tree | Source: Midjourney

A huge gift box near a Christmas tree | Source: Midjourney

“It’s your Christmas present! I know we don’t do this usually, but I wanted to do something special this year. Something big!”

“Murphy, we can’t afford—”

“Just wait till Christmas Eve, Sus! You’re gonna love it! I promise you’ve never gotten anything like this before.”

I had no idea how right he was.

A woman sitting on the couch and looking up | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting on the couch and looking up | Source: Midjourney

Our daughters, Mia and Emma, peeked around the corner with their art supplies, giggling like they used to when they were little, not the teenagers they’d become.

“Dad’s been so secretive about it,” Mia whispered. “He wouldn’t even let us help wrap it!”

“He spent forever in the garage getting it ready, Mom!” Emma added, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

That should have been my first warning sign.

Two cheerful teenage girls smiling | Source: Pexels

Two cheerful teenage girls smiling | Source: Pexels

For the next ten days, that box sat under our Christmas tree, taunting me. Every time I walked past it, I’d try to guess what could be inside.

Maybe Murphy had saved up all year for something special. Maybe he’d noticed me eyeing that velvety quilt in the store window, or remembered me mentioning how much I missed having a nice television set since ours broke last spring.

Sometimes I’d catch him staring at the box with this proud little smile, like he’d solved all the world’s problems with whatever was inside.

A man looking at something | Source: Midjourney

A man looking at something | Source: Midjourney

Christmas Eve arrived with a flurry of activity. Our girls were sprawled on the floor by the tree, while Murphy’s parents settled onto our worn couch that had seen better days.

His mother, Eleanor, kept shooting me knowing looks, while his father, Frank, nursed his usual cup of coffee with a splash of whiskey.

The room smelled of cinnamon and pine, thanks to the three cookie-scented candles I’d splurged on at the dollar store. Christmas carols played softly on our old radio. And outside, the neighbors’ lighting display cast multicolored shadows through our windows as I set a tray of brownies on the table.

A woman holding a wooden tray of brownies | Source: Pexels

A woman holding a wooden tray of brownies | Source: Pexels

“Open it, Mom!” Emma squealed. “It’s the biggest present under the tree! Even bigger than the one Dad got for Grandma!”

Murphy nodded encouragingly, his work boots tapping against the carpet in an excited rhythm. “Go ahead, Sus. Show everyone what Santa brought you.”

My fingers trembled as I unwrapped the paper, trying to savor the moment. The girls leaned forward, and I lifted the lid.

My heart stopped.

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

“A vacuum cleaner?” I whispered, staring at the box with its cheerful product photos showing all its “amazing features.”

“Top of the line!” Murphy beamed. “I already tested it in the garage… works like a dream! Gets all the metal shavings right up! Even does the corners!”

The girls exchanged glances before bursting into giggles. Eleanor pressed her lips together so hard they nearly disappeared, while Frank suddenly became very interested in the contents of his coffee mug, probably wishing he’d added more whiskey.

A vacuum cleaner on the floor | Source: Pexels

A vacuum cleaner on the floor | Source: Pexels

“Oh, and when you’re done with it in here,” Murphy added, still grinning like he’d just given me the crown jewels, “make sure to put it back in the garage. That’s where it’ll live most of the time. The suction on this baby is perfect for my workspace! No more metal dust anywhere!”

I fled to our bedroom, but Murphy followed, his heavy footsteps echoing behind me like thunder. I burst into tears as soon as he closed the door, the sound of Christmas carols mocking me from downstairs.

“A vacuum cleaner? Seriously? Your first Christmas gift to me in 16 years is a VACUUM CLEANER?”

A shocked woman covering her mouth | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman covering her mouth | Source: Midjourney

“What’s wrong with that? It’s practical. Do you know how much these things cost? It’s top of the line!”

“Practical? You bought yourself a garage vacuum and wrapped it up as my Christmas present! You might as well have gift-wrapped a mop and bucket!”

“Don’t be dramatic, Susan. It’s for the whole family—”

“A $5 bracelet would have meant more! Just something that showed you thought of me as your wife and NOT your MAID! Something that said ‘I love you,’ not ‘Here’s another way to clean up after everyone!’”

An angry man frowning | Source: Midjourney

An angry man frowning | Source: Midjourney

His face darkened, jaw clenching like it did when the bills came due.

“You’re acting like a spoiled princess. Remember where you came from. Your folks are farmers! Do they even know what a vacuum cleaner is?! At least I’m thinking about upgrading our home!”

“Get out!” I roared. “GET. OUT.”

“Fine,” he snapped, yanking the door open. “You’re being ridiculous. It’s a good gift! Most wives would be grateful! Because presents are something a family could use, not what you would want.”

An angry woman holding her head | Source: Pexels

An angry woman holding her head | Source: Pexels

That night, I slept on the couch, wrapped in rage and heartache. Through the thin walls, I could hear Murphy telling his parents I was being “selfish” about the whole thing.

Eleanor’s murmured response was too quiet to make out, but Frank’s grunt of disapproval came through clearly.

As I lay there in the dark, watching the neighbors’ Christmas lights dance across our ceiling, a plan began to form in my head. Revenge, they say, is a dish best served cold, or in this case, wrapped in glittery paper and waiting an entire year.

Christmas lights shining through a window curtain | Source: Unsplash

Christmas lights shining through a window curtain | Source: Unsplash

I smiled into the darkness, already calculating how much I’d need to save from my tutoring money to make it perfect.

The following Christmas, I invited every relative within driving distance. Aunts, uncles, cousins — anyone who might appreciate a good show.

Murphy grumbled about the expense until he spotted his gift under the tree. It was the biggest box of all, wrapped in paper that cost $10 a roll this time.

“What’s this?” he asked, eyes lighting up like a child’s.

“Just a little something special. You do so much for us, honey. I wanted this Christmas to be MEMORABLE!”

A huge gift box against the backdrop of a Christmas tree | Source: Midjourney

A huge gift box against the backdrop of a Christmas tree | Source: Midjourney

“Mom went shopping all by herself,” Mia chimed in. “She wouldn’t even tell us what it is! But she looked so happy when she came home.”

“Cost a pretty penny too,” I added, watching Murphy’s eyes grow wider.

He spent the next few days shaking the box when he thought no one was looking, like a kid trying to guess what Santa brought.

Christmas Eve arrived again. Our living room was packed with family, all eyes on Murphy as he approached his present.

Guests in a room | Source: Pexels

Guests in a room | Source: Pexels

Aunt Martha perched on the armrest of the couch, while Uncle Bill and his three kids crowded around the fireplace.

Even cousin Pete, who never came to family gatherings, had shown up after I hinted there would be some “holiday entertainment.”

“Open it, Dad!” Emma urged, her phone ready to record the moment. “The suspense is killing everyone!”

A teenage girl smiling | Source: Pexels

A teenage girl smiling | Source: Pexels

The gift wrapper fell away. Murphy’s face went from excitement to confusion to HORROR as he stared at the industrial-sized case of toilet paper in the box.

It was premium four-ply, with “extra soft comfort” plastered across the box in cheerful letters, and “perfect for home AND workshop use!” printed in bold red.

“What is this?” he sputtered, “TOILET PAPER??”

A pile of toilet paper | Source: Unsplash

A pile of toilet paper | Source: Unsplash

I stood up, channeling my best game show host voice.

“It’s premium four-ply toilet paper! Because Christmas isn’t about what we want, it’s about what the family needs. Right, honey? And this will be perfect for the bathroom AND your garage! I even got the industrial size, since you love practical gifts so much!”

Our daughters doubled over laughing. Aunt Martha choked on her eggnog. Uncle Bill slapped his knee so hard it echoed, while his kids collapsed in fits of giggles. Cousin Pete actually fell off his chair.

A young man sitting on a chair and laughing | Source: Pexels

A young man sitting on a chair and laughing | Source: Pexels

“Who gives their husband toilet paper for Christmas?” Murphy’s face turned scarlet as he looked around the room full of amused relatives.

I smiled angelically. “Who gives their wife a vacuum cleaner?”

He stormed upstairs, muttering under his breath, while the family erupted in laughter and approval. Even Eleanor gave me a subtle high-five when no one was looking.

A furious man yelling | Source: Midjourney

A furious man yelling | Source: Midjourney

“Well played, Susan,” Frank chuckled, raising his coffee mug in salute. “Well played indeed. Maybe next year he’ll think twice about ‘practical’ gifts.”

That was five years ago. Murphy hasn’t mentioned Christmas presents since, and “selfish” has mysteriously disappeared from his vocabulary.

But just in case he ever gets another bright idea about “practical” gifts, I keep a special shelf in the closet, ready for next year’s wrapping paper. Sometimes the best revenge isn’t served cold, it’s served with a bow on top, and maybe some premium four-ply toilet paper to wrap it in.

A roll of toilet paper wrapped in golden satin ribbon | Source: Midjourney

A roll of toilet paper wrapped in golden satin ribbon | Source: Midjourney

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

Woman Tires of Admirer Who Joins Her Jog Every Morning but Desperately Searches for Him When He Doesn’t Show Up — Story of the Day

Rebecca coped with her depression by organizing her life so there’d be no time for it. She’d been doing that for years since the divorce. Until one persistent stranger decided to interfere with her strict, lonely routine. Little did Rebecca know, he’d become the one person she’d end up missing.

In the dim light of her bedroom, Rebecca lay on her back, her gaze locked on the digital clock beside her bed.

The numbers read 6:29. She took a steady breath, waiting for the clock to change.

As soon as it clicked to 6:30, the alarm went off, but Rebecca was quick to silence it.

She sat up, threw the covers aside, and rose from the bed with practiced precision.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

First things first—Rebecca smoothed out her sheets, arranging every corner until the bed looked crisp and perfectly made.

She walked into the bathroom, where everything had its place.

Her toothbrush rested neatly in a holder, the soap was placed just so in a dish, and a small mirror hung over the sink.

Rebecca took a moment to look at her own reflection, her expression calm but distant.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She was forty-seven, with lines of experience and resilience etched onto her face.

Seven years had passed since her divorce, and though the pain had dulled, it had left behind a scar.

Her response to the heartache had been order, discipline, and strict routine. These things brought her a sense of control, something solid to hold onto when life felt chaotic.

At exactly seven o’clock, Rebecca laced up her running shoes, plugged in her headphones, and stepped outside, ready for her morning jog.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For years, these runs had been her escape, a time to strengthen her body while listening to audiobooks that exercised her mind.

It was her shield against sadness, each step a way to push forward.

But for the past month, something had started to disrupt her carefully designed routine—a neighbor named Charlie, who seemed determined to break through her guarded solitude, one cheerful “good morning” at a time.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Charlie’s house was right across the street, and every morning, just as Rebecca fell into her steady pace, he would come bounding out, waving his arms like an enthusiastic kid, barely managing to keep his sneakers on.

This morning was no different. Rebecca spotted him out of the corner of her eye as he hopped down his steps, shoving his shoelaces into his sneakers in a hurry to catch up.

She sighed, rolling her eyes and speeding up, hoping he’d get the hint this time. But, as always, Charlie wouldn’t be discouraged so easily.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Rebecca! Wait, it’s me!” he called, his voice cheerful as he jogged over, waving with one hand and holding his side with the other.

Rebecca pretended not to hear him and kept her eyes straight ahead, her footsteps rhythmic and focused.

But Charlie was determined, and soon he was jogging alongside her, albeit slightly out of breath.

“You’re fast… as always,” he managed between pants, giving her a crooked smile as he tried to match her pace.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Rebecca pulled out one of her earbuds and glanced at him, feigning surprise. “Oh, hi, didn’t see you there,” she replied, with just a hint of annoyance.

She had her whole morning planned out, and chatting with her neighbor hadn’t been on the agenda.

“No problem, totally my fault for being late,” Charlie said, his breath still coming in gasps.

Rebecca could see he was trying hard to keep up, yet he looked pleased just to be running alongside her.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She gave a small, dismissive nod and was about to put her earbud back in when Charlie chimed in again.

“Hey, want to hear a joke?” he asked eagerly, his voice carrying that unbreakable enthusiasm she found both irritating and oddly endearing.

“You’d save more breath if you talked less while running…” she muttered, but he ignored her suggestion.

“Why did the scarecrow get a promotion?” he asked, grinning.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Rebecca sighed. She knew better than to indulge him, but she couldn’t help herself.

“I don’t know. Why?”

“Because he was outstanding in his field!” Charlie delivered the punchline with a broad, triumphant grin, his eyes bright with expectation.

Rebecca paused, rolling the joke over in her mind, and against her better judgment, a chuckle escaped her lips.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She quickly tried to stifle it, but it was too late. Charlie had seen her reaction, and his face lit up with delight.

“See? You smiled! I’m getting better at this,” he noted with satisfaction, practically glowing at his small victory.

Rebecca shook her head, but her smile lingered, however brief.

“I’ll give it to you, that one wasn’t… too bad,” she conceded, still pretending to be unimpressed.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Charlie threw a fist in the air, grinning as if he’d won a prize.

“Finally! Progress!” he cheered, laughing.

Rebecca picked up her pace again, leaving Charlie struggling to keep up.

Each morning, Rebecca found herself looking forward to the sight of Charlie bounding out of his house with his untied sneakers and his cheerful grin.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

His silly jokes that once made her roll her eyes had grown on her, and she found herself smiling more often, even laughing aloud, which was something she hadn’t done in a long time.

More surprising to her, she had started to slow her pace—just a bit—so they could talk longer.

Charlie’s enthusiasm and light-heartedness had a way of softening the strict walls Rebecca had built around herself.

He had even managed to slip past her strict routine, something she thought no one could do.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

As she laced up her shoes and looked out the window, Rebecca found herself glancing at his house, as she had started doing most mornings. Today, though, something felt different.

The door to his house was shut tight, and there was no sign of him.

She checked her watch and waited, telling herself not to worry. But after a few more minutes passed, doubt crept in.

This wasn’t like Charlie—he was always so excited to join her.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She hesitated, feeling a strange mix of concern and disappointment, but finally, she walked over to his house and knocked on the door.

She tapped her foot as she waited, glancing around and hoping he’d just forgotten to wake up. But there was no answer.

She rang the doorbell again, then leaned close to the window, peeking inside, but the rooms were still and quiet.

“Charlie! Are you there?” she called, trying to keep her voice steady. “Come on, you’re missing our jog!”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She hoped he’d suddenly appear, laughing and apologizing for being late. But all she heard was silence.

Just then, an elderly voice spoke from nearby.

“Who’s shouting out here?” Startled, Rebecca turned to see Mrs. Lewis, an elderly woman who lived next door to Charlie, watching her with curiosity.

“Oh, Mrs. Lewis,” Rebecca said, feeling embarrassed for the outburst.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I usually run with Charlie, but he didn’t show up today. Maybe he overslept,” she added, her voice quieter, almost as if she were speaking to herself.

She felt a pang of worry, wondering if maybe he simply didn’t want to run with her anymore.

Mrs. Lewis shook her head, looking concerned.

“Overslept? Oh no, dear. He was taken to the hospital by ambulance last night.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Rebecca’s heart skipped a beat.

“The hospital? What happened to him?”

Mrs. Lewis sighed, clearly upset herself.

“I’m not sure. I only saw the ambulance pull up and take him away. It’s such a shame. Poor man lives alone with no one to watch over him.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Rebecca stood there, processing the news, a wave of guilt and worry washing over her.

She had only known Charlie for a short while, but in that time, he had somehow become a part of her life, someone she looked forward to seeing.

Without a second thought, Rebecca thanked Mrs. Lewis, turned around, and headed back home to grab her purse and keys. There was only one hospital nearby, and she needed to find him.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Rebecca felt her heart racing as she walked through the bustling halls of the hospital, the antiseptic smell filling her nose and making her even more anxious. She took a steadying breath as she approached the reception desk, hoping to sound calm.

“Good morning,” she said, her voice just a bit shaky. “I’m looking for a patient who was admitted last night. His name is Charlie.”

The receptionist raised an eyebrow, looking over her glasses. “Do you have a last name, ma’am?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Rebecca felt herself blush. “No, sorry… I only know him as Charlie. We just… met recently,” she admitted, realizing how strange it must sound.

The receptionist gave her a slightly skeptical look. “You do know that only family or close relatives are typically allowed to visit patients, right?”

“I… I’m his girlfriend,” she blurted, surprising even herself.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The receptionist’s eyes softened as a small smile crept onto her face. “Girlfriend, huh?” She tapped a few keys on her computer, a slight twinkle in her eyes.

“You might as well learn his last name, then. You’ll need it if he’s going to be around,” she said with a wink.

“Charlie Sanders. Room 113. I’ll take you there.”

Rebecca felt her heart flip as she whispered a quick “thank you” and followed the receptionist down the hall.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Before they even reached the room, she could hear Charlie’s familiar laughter, his voice carrying through the doorway as he shared a joke with someone in the room.

The receptionist rapped gently on the wall to announce Rebecca’s arrival.

“Charlie, there’s a lady here to see you… she says she’s your girlfriend,” she added, a hint of playfulness in her voice as she glanced at Rebecca.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Charlie’s eyes lit up as soon as he saw her. “Yes, yes! Rebecca, come on in. Of course, she’s here for me,” he said with a grin, gesturing for her to come closer.

Rebecca felt a rush of relief as she walked over to sit beside him.

Charlie looked tired but cheerful, as if the hospital gown and the IV were just minor inconveniences in his day.

She glanced at him, both relieved and exasperated. “Girlfriend, huh?” Charlie teased, raising his eyebrows playfully.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Rebecca gave him a mock-scowl. “I had to say something to get in here, didn’t I? And you missed our jog this morning! What happened?” she asked, a touch of concern creeping into her voice.

Charlie sighed, shifting slightly in the bed.

“Well… it’s a bit embarrassing to admit, but those jogs? Not exactly great for my health.”

Rebecca’s face fell. “What do you mean?”

He glanced down, looking a little sheepish.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I have a heart condition. Doctor’s orders are to avoid anything too intense… like trying to keep up with you,” he admitted with a wry smile.

Her heart sank, and she shook her head in disbelief.

“Charlie, why didn’t you tell me? You shouldn’t have been running at all!”

Charlie gave a small, lopsided smile.

“Well… if I didn’t, I wouldn’t have seen you. I wouldn’t have gotten to know you.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Rebecca felt her face soften, a mix of surprise and affection warming her heart.

“So you were willing to risk your health just to talk to me?” she asked quietly, looking him in the eye.

He nodded, his expression turning serious.

“Yes,” he said simply.

“I’ve watched you every morning, jogging at the same time, like clockwork. I’ve seen you give things to charity, help the neighbors. You’re… you’re someone special, Rebecca.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Rebecca felt a lump form in her throat, his words striking her in a way she hadn’t expected.

She reached over and took his hand, squeezing it gently.

“Charlie,” she said, her voice soft, “you don’t need to run to spend time with me. How about dinner at my place instead?”

Charlie’s face broke into a warm smile.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Now that sounds a lot safer for my heart,” he replied, his eyes shining. “I think the doctor would definitely approve.”

Rebecca chuckled, feeling the tension in her chest ease as they shared a smile.

“I hope so,” she murmured, looking forward to an evening that didn’t involve heart-stopping runs but instead a quiet meal with someone who, in a short time, had become surprisingly important to her.

Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.

If you enjoyed this story, read this one: Lucy once thought she had a loving family and a happy life. But after the divorce —she had nothing. It felt like there was nothing left for Lucy in this world. But then, everything changed when a car nearly hit her. That’s when she met a long-lost friend, and her life began to take a new turn.

This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life. 

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