I Found Tiny Children’s Shoes on My Late Husband’s Grave Every Time I Visited—Their Secret Changed My Life
The first time I saw a small pair of blue sneakers by Paul’s headstone, I assumed it was an accident. Perhaps a grieving parent had left them there. After Paul’s death in a car accident, I kept busy making homemade jam to distract myself from the emptiness.
When I returned to the cemetery the following week, I found small red rain boots at the base of the headstone. Unease set in—who was leaving these shoes? Paul and I never had children. Despite my attempts to brush it off, more pairs appeared with each visit, deepening my frustration and grief.
I eventually stopped going, hoping the shoes would cease if I stayed away. But when I returned, six pairs lined up at his grave ignited my anger. Who was mocking my sorrow?
One cold morning, I arrived early to discover the source. It was Maya, Paul’s former secretary. I hadn’t seen her since she left abruptly before his accident. She was placing a pair of brown sandals by the other shoes, her face marked by grief. When I called out to her, she turned, startled.
