After losing my wife, I don’t get to see my daughter as often, but we talk every day. For my 80th birthday, my only wish was to visit her. I drove to her house, excited to surprise her. When she opened the door, her face showed a mix of surprise and nervousness.
“Dad, why are you here?” she asked, her voice shaky.
With a smile, I said, “I wanted to spend my birthday with you.”
Her expression quickly changed, and she hesitated before saying, “Dad, you can’t stay. I’m really busy right now. It’s not a good time.”
Feeling a little hurt, I replied, “That’s okay. I’ll wait on the sofa until you’re done.”
But she was insistent, nearly pushing me out the door. “No, Dad, you need to leave.”
As I walked away, a strange feeling lingered. Near my car, I heard noises coming from inside. Curious and concerned, I glanced through the living room window.
Inside, I saw two strangers moving around frantically. My heart raced. What was going on? Who were these people, and why was my daughter acting so strange?
I stepped away and called the police. Within minutes, officers arrived and cautiously approached the house. After a tense few moments, they led the strangers out in handcuffs, with my daughter following, tears streaming down her face.
“Dad, I’m so sorry,” she cried, hugging me. “Those men broke in just before you arrived. I didn’t know what to do, and I was trying to protect you.”
Relief washed over me as I held her. “It’s alright, sweetheart. The important thing is that you’re safe.”
The police took our statements and assured us the intruders would face justice. My daughter and I then sat on the sofa, the same one I’d hoped to wait on earlier, and spent the rest of the day together.
Despite the frightening experience, it became the most unforgettable birthday I could have imagined, knowing my daughter would go to such lengths to protect me.