At first, I thought he just wanted to play.
My nephew Dax had this habit of tugging at my sweater and saying, “Come outside with me!” every single time I visited. No matter the weather, no matter how tired I looked. I’d smile, ruffle his hair, and say, “Later, bud. Auntie’s tired.”
But that day… that day was different.
I’d been barely holding it together. A breakup, job loss, and the suffocating weight of pretending to be okay for everyone else had left me teetering on the edge. I’d driven over to my sister’s place just to be somewhere else—to disappear without actually vanishing.
And there was Dax, as usual, pulling at my sleeve with his innocent, wide eyes.
“Come outside, Auntie! I have something to show you,” he said, his voice full of excitement.
At first, I thought, I really don’t have the energy for this today, but then I looked at his face. His little smile was contagious, and somehow, in that moment, I knew I needed to step outside—maybe for him, but mostly for me. Maybe the fresh air would do me some good.
I sighed, setting my coffee mug down and pushing myself up from the couch. “Okay, bud. Let’s go.”
He grabbed my hand and tugged me toward the door, running ahead of me with a speed I couldn’t match. I followed him out into the yard, the chilly autumn breeze hitting me in the face. As soon as I stepped outside, I took a deep breath, feeling the weight on my shoulders lighten, even just a little. There was something about being out here, in nature, that made everything seem quieter.
Dax led me to a small treehouse at the back of the yard—a wooden structure he’d helped build with my brother-in-law a few months earlier. It was nothing fancy, just a small platform with a few windows, but Dax loved it. He jumped up the ladder, not waiting for me to follow, and stood proudly at the top.
“Look, Auntie!” he called down to me, beaming. “I got it all ready for us!”
I couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. “All right, I’m coming up,” I said, and followed him up the ladder.
As soon as I was inside the treehouse, Dax grabbed my hand again and pulled me over to a small table where he’d set out a couple of his favorite toys. But there was something else, too—a journal, with pages scribbled with messy writing.
I raised an eyebrow. “What’s all this?”
“It’s my special journal,” he said seriously. “It’s for you.”
I sat down beside him. “For me? What’s in it?”
His eyes lit up. “It’s for your dreams. I’m going to help you get them back!”
I stared at him, puzzled. “What do you mean, get them back?”
Dax paused for a second, as if I was the one who didn’t understand. “You don’t remember? You used to tell me about your big dreams. About traveling. About starting your own business. About being happy again. But now you’re sad, Auntie. I want to help you be happy again.”
My heart stopped for a moment. I had told him all that? I didn’t even remember.
The journal was filled with little notes from Dax, written in his own childish scrawl, telling me things like, “You’re gonna be okay, Auntie!” and “Let’s make today the best day ever!” I was taken aback by how much he remembered, how much he cared. And how deeply he seemed to understand me—better than I understood myself.
“I don’t know, Dax,” I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve just been so tired. I don’t think I have the energy to dream anymore.”
Dax frowned and placed a tiny, sticky hand on my cheek. “You do have the energy, Auntie. I know you do. You just have to believe it. I believe in you.”
Tears started welling up in my eyes. I wasn’t used to being this vulnerable. But in that moment, the world seemed a little softer. A little quieter. And for the first time in what felt like forever, I let myself believe it, too. I believed in Dax’s belief in me.
“I’m going to try,” I said, looking him in the eyes. “I’ll try to remember.”
We spent the next hour in that treehouse, laughing, talking, and even planning what our “adventure” would look like the next day. For the first time in months, I wasn’t pretending. I wasn’t hiding behind the walls of my sadness and exhaustion. I felt, for the first time in a long time, like I had a purpose.
When I left my sister’s house later that day, I felt lighter, as if the weight of the world had been lifted off my shoulders just a little. I drove home, still holding onto the journal Dax had given me, and when I got inside, I set it down on my desk. And that’s when it happened.
As I was about to leave the room, my phone rang. It was an unknown number. I almost didn’t answer, but then something told me to pick up.
“Hello?” I said cautiously.
“Amanda?” a voice on the other end asked.
“Yes, who’s this?”
“This is Natalie from the job search agency. I know you’ve been applying for positions, and I just wanted to let you know we’ve received an offer for you. The company wants you to come in for an interview. It’s for a marketing position, one that we think would be a great fit for your experience.”
I felt a rush of emotions—surprise, excitement, and disbelief all at once. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely,” Natalie said. “The company was really impressed with your application, and they want to move forward. We’ll send you the details for the interview tomorrow, but we wanted to let you know as soon as possible.”
I could barely process it. The job I had dreamed of, the one I’d been too afraid to apply for, was finally within my reach.
I looked down at the journal, Dax’s words still echoing in my mind: “You’re going to be okay, Auntie.”
The next day, I showed up for the interview feeling like a different person. I felt confident, ready, and—most importantly—believed in myself. The interview went better than I could have imagined. They offered me the job on the spot. It wasn’t just a marketing position; it was the opportunity I had dreamed of, the one I thought had passed me by.
As I left the building, I thought about how far I had come, how much Dax had unknowingly helped me. He didn’t know it, but his simple belief in me had been the spark I needed to reignite my own belief in myself.
And that’s when it hit me—the karmic twist. That little boy, with his pure, honest heart, had saved me. Not just from a job I didn’t know I could get, but from myself. He had given me the strength to step forward, to start over, and to believe that better days were ahead.
Sometimes, the people we think we’re supposed to be helping—our children, our nieces, our nephews—are the ones who end up teaching us the most important lessons of all. Dax didn’t know the weight I was carrying. He didn’t know how lost I’d felt. But through his eyes, I saw myself in a way I hadn’t seen in years.
So, if you’re feeling lost or stuck, remember this: sometimes, the people around you are waiting to show you the way. You don’t have to carry the weight of the world alone. It just takes one small moment, one spark of belief, to light the way forward.
And remember, it’s never too late to believe in your own dreams.
If this story resonated with you, please share it. You never know who might need to hear it today. Let’s remind each other that we can always find the strength to rise again.
