“An unmarried teacher adopted two abandoned twin brothers.”
An unmarried teacher adopted two abandoned twin brothers.
With hard work, she raised them until they became students at prestigious universities—
but 22 years later, her life ended in a tragic twist…
Madam Helen Carter, who taught literature at a small-town high school in America,
lived alone after the death of her parents.

Unmarried, she always felt her life was complete—

her students, her books, and those afternoons when she stood in the sun,
overlooking the schoolyard under the shade of oak trees.

One cold morning, as she was returning from the market and passing by an old church,

she heard faint crying.

Behind some bushes, two newborn babies lay wrapped in old clothes.

Nearby was a small cloth bag containing some old clothes
and a crumpled letter:

“Please, if anyone has a kind heart, help us.
We can’t keep them.
Forgive us.”

Helen neither informed the police nor consulted anyone.

As if by instinct, she brought the children home.

She named them Michael and Peter.

Two names that symbolized her greatest dreams:

a life filled with light and peace.

Life became more difficult than ever.

Her meager salary wasn’t enough to support two children.

Helen began tutoring, selling cakes in the evenings

and typing documents for the school board.

But she never complained.

When Michael ran a high fever

or Peter cried and called for his mother,

she would wrap them in her arms and whisper:

“It’s me… Helen.

Mother is here.” Now no one will abandon you.»

Time passed.
Michael excelled at math.
Peter loved to draw.

They were obedient and affectionate boys,
knowing how hard their adoptive mother worked—
so they always did their best in school.

Even though they didn’t have birth certificates or any clear documents,
Helen didn’t give up.
She knocked on doors, asked for help,
gained permissions—
slowly—
until they could go to school like other children.

In their final year of high school,
both passed the university entrance exams.

Michael got into the University of Science and Technology.
Peter into the University of Architecture.

Helen felt immense pride, but also worried:
«When you go to New York, take care of yourself.
Mom won’t be with you anymore…»

And they left.

In the beginning, they called every week.

Then gradually less often.
Then… only sending messages on Christmas and New Year’s.

Helen thought:
“They’re grown up now…
Probably busy studying.”

She didn’t know that one rainy afternoon,
a tall and handsome man was sitting quietly on a bench near her house.

He looked toward the second-floor window—
where Michael and Peter’s study lamps once burned—
then pulled out his phone:

“I’ve found them.
The boys are alive.
He’s the one who raised them…”

One September morning,
when Madame Helen stepped out of the school gate,
she saw two strangers waiting for her.

They showed her some papers… and an old photograph.

“We are Michael and Peter’s biological parents,”
one of them said.

“We’ve come for custody.
We want our children back.”

Helen couldn’t understand.

Her heart felt like it was about to break.

«You… left them.
I raised them from birth.

And now you say…
that you want them back?»

The woman lowered her eyes.

The man said coldly:
«We were very poor at that time.
We couldn’t feed them.

But now we have a stable life.

They are our children.

The law will be on our side.»

Then they left,
leaving behind a DNA test form.

A week later, Michael and Peter returned.
Seeing them after almost a year,
Helen burst into tears
and hugged them tightly.

But the boys seemed like strangers.
They kept avoiding her gaze.
«Mom… these are our real parents.
They want us to be with them.
They too have suffered a lot.»

Helen couldn’t say anything. Years of hard work,
applying for scholarships,
sewing uniforms,
waiting at the university gates—
all became a painful memory.

Two months later,
the court granted the parents’ petition.

The two brothers were allowed to change their family registration,
revert to their old names,
and live with their new families.

There were no farewells.
No hugs.
Not even a last glance.

One cold afternoon,
Helen opened an old wooden box
filled with photographs.

One of her third birthday,
with a homemade cake.

One of the two of them,
studying together at an old table.

One of an autumn lantern parade…

The last photograph:

herself, standing silently,
watching the boys’ graduation ceremony from a distance.

The photograph she had called in at the last minute
by a photographer.

«Maybe being a mother…
is not a blood relation.

Being a mother means giving your whole life…
without any hope.»

Helen took a deep breath.

Folded the photograph and placed it in the box.

Outside, the first snow of that season was falling.

But in her heart…

Winter had already arrived.