The Expectations from Family and the Reality of Parenting

Making the decision to have children requires a thorough awareness of the obligations involved. It can be difficult, inconvenient, and far from lonely to raise a child. It’s crucial to understand that while many parents look to their friends and family, particularly their parents, for support, this assistance isn’t always available.

An Inspiring Reddit Tale

A debate was triggered by a Reddit post that was widely shared:

After taking maternity leave, a new mother asked her mother for childcare assistance so she could resume her job. Since 1992, her 64-year-old mother has been a stay-at-home mom and has not worked.

She refused, though, saying she was unwilling to take on the duty again because she had already raised her children. In addition, she advised her daughter to think about remaining at home, as she had done, and letting her partner be the only provider, much like a “traditional” family, if she really wanted a child.

It was not financially feasible for this mother to remain at home. She had to go back to work because she was the main provider for their small family. She and her partner were already having a hard time saving money for a bigger place for their growing child, and they were living in a one-bedroom apartment in a pricey city.

Her mother offered to babysit after she explained their predicament, but only at $20 an hour, with extra late fees if they were late picking up the child.
She also needed bottles, a stroller, a car seat, and extras of everything the baby had at home.

In response to these demands, the mother began looking into infant daycare, which would be closer to their home and more reasonably priced. They were in a challenging situation because both parents were employed full-time and there were no other family members available to assist.

She questioned whether she was mistaken to expect her stay-at-home mother, who spends the majority of her day cooking and watching TV, to provide free childcare while she and her partner worked to improve their financial circumstances as she concluded her post.

Many people found resonance in this story, which brought to light the difficulties of juggling work and parenting, financial hardships, and the complexities of generational expectations.

Charles—my husband, my anchor, my best friend—was taken in a freak accident on a construction site. One minute, we were planning Maggie’s fifth birthday, and the next, I was signing his death certificate. Grief carved out every corner of my soul, but I had our daughter, Maggie. She was six now, all big eyes and bunny hugs, and she gave me a reason to breathe when I didn’t want to.

Then Jacob entered our lives.

He was warm, calm, the kind of man who waited to make sure your coffee order was right and remembered the name of your dog. He didn’t try too hard with Maggie—he let her come to him. Eventually, she did.

I let myself believe again. That I could be loved. That I could build something safe for Maggie and me.

We got married on a quiet little farm. There were ducks, a swing under an oak tree, and the kind of laughter that felt like sunshine in my chest.

But the truth came out on a quiet evening—one that began like any other.

Maggie was already in bed, her bunny tucked under one arm, when she looked up at me and whispered, “Mommy? New-Dad asked me to keep a secret.”

The breath caught in my throat.

“A secret?” I said, forcing calm. “You can always tell me anything, baby.”

Her little fingers fidgeted with the blanket.

“I woke up yesterday after my nap, and I looked for him. He said we’d play video games, remember? But I couldn’t find him. Then… I saw him come out of the basement with a pretty lady in a red dress. He said not to tell you.”

I froze.

Jacob in the basement—with another woman? In our house?

I tucked Maggie in with a kiss and a promise that she’d done nothing wrong. But inside, I was shaking.

Later that night, when Jacob was on the couch pretending to scroll aimlessly through his phone, I confronted him.

He didn’t miss a beat.

“Oh, that? She’s an interior designer,” he laughed. “I was trying to surprise you. I wanted to turn the basement into a family room.”

He took me downstairs and—sure enough—it had been transformed. New paint, cozy lighting, a couch that still had that fresh furniture smell.

It looked like a surprise.

But it didn’t feel like one.

That night, I couldn’t sleep. Something about Maggie’s story—and the designer’s red dress—wouldn’t let me rest. I dug through Jacob’s old social media posts. Buried in the timeline was a photo—two years old—of him with a woman who looked exactly like Maggie described. Blonde hair. Red dress. Wrapped around him like ivy.

I showed the picture to Maggie the next morning.

“That’s her,” she whispered.

Something inside me snapped.

I told Jacob I had a last-minute work trip and took Maggie to my mother’s. Then I set up hidden cameras in the basement and the living room. I knew Jacob wouldn’t notice—he never paid attention to the small stuff.

That night, I waited. Watched. At first, nothing happened. Jacob drank milk from the carton, watched TV, scrolled his phone.

Then—just when I started to think maybe I was wrong—it happened.

Motion detected. Basement camera.

Jacob. The woman in red. Laughing. Kissing.

My blood ran cold.

I drove straight home, heart hammering. I pulled into the driveway just as Jacob walked her to her car.

His face went white when he saw me.

“She’s just the designer,” he said. “She came to fix a few things we missed.”

“At midnight?” I asked. “Is kissing part of her job description too?”

The woman rolled her eyes.

“Oh, please. He’s been lying to both of us. I’m not just some designer—I’ve been with him for years. He said you were just a sad little widow with a big house. An easy score.”

I looked at Jacob, waiting for a denial. A whisper. Anything.

He stayed silent.

I pointed to the street.

“Out. Now.”

The next day, I dumped all his things into trash bags and left them at a construction site. Fitting, I thought.

Then I went to get my daughter.

I took Maggie for ice cream, and as she giggled over chocolate syrup and marshmallows, I leaned over.

“You were very brave, baby,” I said. “You did the right thing.”

“No more secrets,” she said, nodding solemnly.

“No more secrets,” I echoed.

Jacob was gone. The dream I’d built with him—gone. But what remained was the truth, my daughter, and a home filled with love I didn’t have to question.

Sometimes, the worst betrayal shines a light on the deepest strength. I don’t need a man to complete our family. Maggie and I are enough. We always have been.

And that, I’ve come to realize, is the kind of peace no one can fake.

If this story moved you, share it. Because every woman deserves to know: your intuition matters, and your child’s voice—even in whispers—is worth listening to.

Linda Gray’s name is forever etched in television history thanks to her unforgettable role as Sue Ellen Ewing on the hit show Dallas. With over 300 episodes under her belt, Gray’s on-screen presence was magnetic — yet her personal journey has been one filled with both triumphs and heartbreak.

Now 84 years old, Linda Gray continues to inspire with her strength, resilience, and enduring beauty.

Born on September 12, 1940, in Santa Monica, California, Linda grew up in Culver City, not far from the glitz of Hollywood. But behind the backdrop of stardom, her early years were marked by hardship. Diagnosed with polio as a child, she took it in stride — even seeing the idea of using a wheelchair like her grandfather’s as something to aspire to. Her childhood home was chaotic; her mother, a former ballerina, battled alcoholism, leaving Linda and her sister to manage much of the household. Her father, a watchmaker, was steady but emotionally distant.

Despite a rocky start, performance was always in her blood. She put on shows in the neighborhood, took the lead in school plays, and later began modeling for beauty brands and airlines. At just 21, she married photographer Edward Lee Thrasher. Though they had two children together, Jeff and Kehly, their marriage was emotionally cold and creatively stifling. It took Linda 21 years to leave the relationship, but when she did, she was determined to reclaim her life and her dreams.

By the time she finally pursued acting classes in her 30s, Linda was raising children and struggling with her husband’s lack of support for her ambitions. She began working in commercials and earned minor film roles — including the now-legendary gig as Anne Bancroft’s body double in The Graduate (1967). In a full-circle twist, she would later go on to play Mrs. Robinson on stage in London.

Everything changed in 1978 when she landed the role of Sue Ellen Ewing on Dallas. Initially slated for just five episodes, her character quickly became a central figure in the series, known for its sharp-edged drama and tangled personal relationships. Sue Ellen’s complicated marriage to J.R. Ewing, played by Larry Hagman, captivated audiences and made Gray a household name.

Off-screen, Linda and Larry shared a sibling-like relationship. She often playfully scolded him for his off-set antics, and their natural chemistry translated into television magic. “We felt blessed,” she once said. “We don’t know what happened. It was absolute magic.”

Her role on Dallas earned her Golden Globe and Emmy nominations, but more importantly, it gave her a platform and independence. She finally divorced Thrasher in 1983, during the peak of her career. Her son Jeff followed her into the entertainment world, becoming a celebrated director. Tragically, he passed away in 2020 after battling leukemia — a loss Linda marked with a deeply personal tribute, calling him “the kindest, funniest, sweetest human being.”

Even in the face of such grief, Linda’s resilience remains one of her defining traits. She returned to Dallas in its 2012 revival and continued acting in TV roles. Her 2015 memoir, The Road to Happiness Is Always Under Construction, revealed a woman who has faced personal battles with grace and determination — from overcoming illness to confronting addiction and navigating heartbreak.

Today, Linda Gray lives in Santa Clarita, California. She has spoken openly about the lessons she learned from her mother’s struggles, her failed marriage, and the ups and downs of Hollywood. Through it all, she’s stayed grounded, passionate about her craft, and committed to living life on her own terms.

Looking at her now — radiant, elegant, and still going strong — it’s clear that Linda Gray is much more than a television icon. She’s a woman who’s embraced every twist and turn of her journey and emerged stronger for it.

Her story is not just one of fame, but of courage, perseverance, and self-discovery. And for that, she remains deeply admired by fans around the world.

Despite the difficulties of pregnancy, a mother chose love over fear. Learn about her remarkable journey to a healthy baby and a newfound sense of joy.

The news that Olesia was pregnant was a dream come true for her, as pregnancy is often a time of excitement and expectation. She was excited to start the wonderful journey of bringing her baby into the world, just like countless women around the world.

Kelly Sikkemaon Unsplash took the picture.

Olesia had routine ultrasounds during her pregnancy, and everything seemed to be normal. However, when doctors discovered anomalies in her unborn child during a crucial scan, her entire world changed.

In addition to some organs appearing swollen, the baby’s hands were not developing normally. Olesia and her husband, Eugen, were devastated by the news. The couple, however, never thought of giving up on their child in spite of their grief. They had an unwavering love for their unborn child.

The doctors were open and honest, stating that life-changing changes would be necessary to raise a child with these difficulties. Given the potential emotional and physical strain of raising a child with special needs, they even recommended adoption as a workable solution.

Obstetrical Difficulties

Camila Cordeiro took this picture on Unsplash.

Eugen and Olesia remained steadfast. They gave the medical staff their word that they were prepared to take on any obstacles that might arise. They acknowledged their comprehension of the situation by signing documents, but their determination was unwavering.

Rather than giving up, Eugen focused his energies on getting ready for the birth of their child. Eugen got to work designing a cozy and affectionate nursery for their child while Olesia concentrated on keeping herself healthy.

The couple’s daughter, Nadejda, was born a few months later. She was born in perfect health, which surprised and relieved everyone. The abnormal results were later found to be caused by a large uterine fibroid that had affected Olesia’s ultrasounds.

J. Fox, the award-winning actor, considers fatherhood his most cherished role. Married to Tracy Pollan for over 30 years, they share four children. Fox humorously mentioned to Reader’s Digest that it sometimes feels like five.

Fox emphasizes the importance of always being available for his children: “Always be available to your kids. Because if you say, ‘Give me five minutes, give me 10 minutes,’ it’ll be 15, it’ll be 20. And then when you get there, the shine will have worn off whatever it is they wanted to share with you.”

Diagnosed with Parkinson’s in 1991, Fox praised his children for their empathy and resilience. His Instagram often features his close bond with them. On Mother’s Day 2022, he wrote to Pollan, “Our children are beautiful, sensitive, intelligent, empathetic, independent, compassionate, adventurous, lovely people. That’s your fault.”

I used to think meeting Jason was a stroke of fate.

At the time, I had everything lined up: a stable job at a well-known firm, a cozy Brooklyn apartment, and my son, Jamie—five years old and full of light. When Jason entered the picture, he was charming, grateful, and in need of a place to stay. I didn’t hesitate.

“He treats Jamie like his own,” I told my best friend when he moved in.

“You barely know him,” she warned. But I was too taken with his warmth to care.

I even used my contacts to get him a job. He rose quickly—new clothes, a car, the confidence of someone who knew how to play the part. A year later, he proposed.

“You don’t need to work anymore,” he said. “Focus on Jamie. I’ll take care of us.”

And I believed him.

At first, it felt like I was living the dream. But slowly, things changed.

Jason started complaining about Jamie—too sensitive, too quiet, not “boy enough.” Money got tight, even though he had a steady paycheck. When I asked, he always had an excuse: delayed transfers, unexpected expenses. It never made sense, but I didn’t push. I didn’t want to see what was really happening.

Eventually, I started picking up night shifts as a rideshare driver. It was the only way to keep things afloat without upsetting the fragile balance at home.

One night, I returned after my shift to find Martha—our neighbor—in her robe with Jamie asleep in her lap.

“He was perfect,” she whispered, stroking his hair. “Like my own grandbaby. I don’t mind watching him.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” I told her.

But she frowned. “And Jason? Does he know how hard you’re working?”

“He knows,” I lied. “He’s just… busy.”

I didn’t know just how “busy” he really was—until that night.

It was supposed to be another uneventful pickup. A man in a gray coat. A woman with red lipstick. They slid into the back seat like any couple on a romantic night out.

Then I looked into the mirror—and my blood ran cold.

Jason. With someone else.

They didn’t recognize me. My hoodie was pulled low, the cab dark. I stayed quiet and drove.

“I thought you were going to cancel again,” she whispered.

“Not tonight,” Jason said, pulling her close. “I missed you.”

They kissed. I gripped the steering wheel so tightly my hands ached.

“My parents want to meet you,” she said. “They said they’ll gift me a house if they think we’re serious. You know… engaged.”

Jason laughed. “So we’re playing house now?”

She giggled. “They’re old-fashioned. But it’s worth it. Two houses, maybe—live in one, rent the other.”

Jason’s voice dropped. “As soon as Abby gets her inheritance, I’m out. Her mom’s not doing well. It’ll happen soon.”

I kept my eyes forward, my breath calm, even though everything inside me was breaking.

“Saturday, then,” she said.

“Perfect,” Jason replied. “I’ll come up with something at home.”

Saturday. Our anniversary.

I dropped them off at a modest house—the kind he claimed was “business travel.” He handed me cash, never once looking at my face.

“Thanks, buddy,” he said, and disappeared inside.

I sat there in silence, then whispered into the night:

“Game on, Jason.”

On Tuesday, I made his favorite stew. Lit a candle. When he walked into the kitchen, I was all smiles.

“Do you remember what Saturday is?”

He paused. “Anniversary, right? Yeah. Nine years. That watch, huh?”

I nodded. “I booked the place by the lake. A reservation for two at eight.”

He winced. “Ah, Saturday’s tough. Big business trip. But… we’re not a date-night couple anyway, right?”

“Of course,” I said sweetly. “No big deal.”

Saturday came.

I dressed Jamie in his green dinosaur shirt, the one he adored. I wore the same dress I had on our first date. As I fixed my makeup, I barely recognized the woman in the mirror.

“Where are we going?” Jamie asked in the car.

“To a party,” I said. “But be polite, okay? Even if people lie.”

Ashley’s house was larger than I expected. Balloons. A grill smoking in the backyard. Music. Laughter.

I rang the doorbell.

Ashley answered—her smile froze when she saw me.

“Hi. You must be Ashley. I’m Jason’s wife.”

She stumbled back. Her parents came to the door, confused. Jason appeared behind them, drink in hand. When he saw me—his face drained.

“Happy anniversary, sweetheart,” I said, handing him my wedding ring. “Jamie and I thought we’d drop by. He really wanted ice cream.”

Jamie peeked around me. “Hi, Daddy!”

Ashley’s mom gasped.

“Daddy?” she whispered.

I turned to Ashley’s father. “Your daughter invited a married man to dinner. He’s been living with me and my son. Told us he was on business trips. Turns out, this was the business.”

Ashley’s mouth opened, then snapped shut.

Jason tried to speak.

“Not now,” I snapped. “I stood by you when you had nothing. Helped you build a life. And this is what I get?”

I looked at Ashley. “I hope the second house is worth it.”

We left to a chorus of gasps, raised voices, and slamming doors.

I didn’t flinch. Not once.

Three months later, Jason showed up in divorce court—alone.

Ashley’s parents testified for me. Turns out, being embarrassed publicly will do that to a person.

I won everything. Full custody. The apartment. The savings. Even the car he’d used for his ‘business trips.’

I moved my mother in with us. Sold the apartment. We bought a little place by the water—simple, sunny, and honest.

Jamie has space to grow. I have room to breathe. And peace?

That’s something Jason could never fake.

Susan barely slept that night.

The call echoed in her mind like a bitter song on repeat. She sat at her kitchen table long after the moon had crept across the sky, her cup of tea cold, untouched. Her fingers ached from wringing her hands, from all the thoughts that came and went—mainly one:

“We don’t owe you anything.”

She had heard many things in her life—some cruel, some careless—but never that. Not from her own son.

Ben had been a sickly baby. She remembered nights pacing the floor, whispering lullabies through her exhaustion, praying his fever would break. She remembered patching torn school uniforms, baking cookies for school events, cheering the loudest at football games. Every scraped knee, every broken heart—she had been there.

And now, this.

By sunrise, she had made a decision. Not out of anger, but out of clarity.

The delivery men arrived promptly at 9 a.m. They found the old washing machine already unhooked, ready at the curb. Susan handed them her card, thanked them kindly, and once they were gone, she went inside to her computer

She didn’t call her son again. She didn’t try to explain. She didn’t argue.

Instead, she opened a document she had last updated years ago: her will.

She read through it line by line, taking a long, slow breath. Then she made a change. Several, actually.

By 11 a.m., the legal documents were finalized with a notary and sent off.

At noon, she posted a message in the community center’s senior forum:

“Looking for help around the house—willing to offer a rent-free room and stipend to a student or young adult with a kind heart. No experience necessary. Just kindness.”

By the next morning, Susan had ten responses. One stood out—a young nursing student named Lily, raised by her grandmother. She moved in the following week, and Susan, for the first time in years, felt warmth return to her home.

The following month, Ben called—this time with urgency.

“Mom, what the hell is this?” His voice trembled with disbelief. “You’re leaving everything to a stranger?”

Olivia’s voice shrieked in the background: “She’s lost her mind!”

Susan remained calm. “Not a stranger. A kind soul who helped me when I needed it.”

“But Mom—” Ben tried again.

“I asked for help once,” she said softly. “And you told me you owed me nothing. So now… I’ve asked someone else.”

Ben was silent. The words caught in his throat.

Susan didn’t hang up. She just waited.

Then, gently, she said, “You made your choice. And now, so have I.”

She ended the call.

And this time, she didn’t cry. She looked out the window as Lily tended the garden—her garden—and smiled.

Because sometimes, family isn’t who you raise… it’s who shows up when you need them most. 🌱

I picked up Levi from school, and he was remarkably quiet. Something wasn’t right, and I knew it instantly, but Levi wouldn’t tell me. When we arrived home, he said, “Mom, my teacher said my haircut is ‘aggressive’ and intimidates the rest of the children.” He had not spoken a word on the way home.

“What?” Perplexed by what he had said, I asked. Like my brother, who is in the military, my son also sports this short military hairstyle.

I found it hard to comprehend why an 8-year-old boy would get into trouble over a neat haircut.

Levi then gave me a note that said my son’s hair was allegedly getting in the way of the school’s efforts to “maintain a positive learning environment.”

What I was reading was unbelievable. Even a “corrective action” was mentioned, but I wasn’t sure if that meant suspension or detention.

Levi was very concerned. He thought he had done something wrong, but he hadn’t, and I was prepared to do whatever it took to keep him safe.

Since a clean-cut look couldn’t be against the rules, I honestly assumed it was a misunderstanding. However, when I met with the school administration, I was informed that my son had violated the dress code.

When I discovered that other students at the school had the same haircut and had not received a note regarding any infractions of the school’s rules, my annoyance increased.

I made the decision to resist. I wouldn’t make my son feel bad about getting a neat haircut.
After pressing, I had a meeting with the vice-principal of the school. She said she thought Levi’s teacher had a personal grudge against it when I brought up that other students at the school weren’t disciplined for having the same hairstyle.

Later, I learned that Levi’s teacher, Ms. Reeves, lost her father as a result of his severe PTSD following his military service. The vice-principal assured her that he would speak with her and put things right.

I received a call from the school a day later. I wanted to speak with Mrs. Reeves.

She apologized for the disciplinary note and appeared sorry when I saw her, claiming she didn’t realize she had overreacted. She then told me about her father, saying that she still hadn’t processed some of the details of his death and that everything associated with the military, like my son’s haircut, made her think of her own father.

I learned from this experience to always support my child as a parent. However, it also taught me that compassion should always be allowed. We can never truly understand what other people are going through or the reasons behind their actions.

Being kind and willing to listen are sometimes the best ways to diffuse a disagreement or misunderstanding.

The early morning quiet of a Georgia highway was shattered by tragedy — a single moment that changed everything for a young family and left two communities mourning the kind of loss that words can barely touch.

Reagan Dougan, just 27 years old, was doing something so many mothers do: packing up her four children — ages 9, 4, 2, and just 3 months — into the car for a road trip. They were headed to Florida, where her husband Christian waited. A journey meant to bring a family together ended in unimaginable devastation.

It was around 6 a.m. on Sunday, April 6, 2025, when Reagan’s rented Jeep Cherokee, driving along I-95 South in McIntosh County, collided with another vehicle. In the seconds that followed, everything unraveled. The SUV struck the rear of an Infiniti sedan, then slammed into the center guardrail. Witnesses watched in horror as the Jeep erupted into flames.

Inside were five lives — a mother and her four children — lost instantly.

Authorities quickly responded. The driver of the other vehicle survived and was hospitalized. But nothing could be done for Reagan or her children. The highway remained closed for hours as investigators tried to piece together what had gone wrong. A cause has yet to be formally determined, but one thing is painfully clear: one moment took away an entire future.

Reagan’s family had just relocated to Raleigh, North Carolina. New roots, new neighbors, new memories just beginning to form. Now, that same neighborhood is grappling with profound grief.

“She always had a smile on her face,” said Jason Flores, one of her neighbors. “The kids were always happy. Their food always smelled good when they cooked it.” The image of their little ones laughing in the yard is now a haunting memory, a snapshot of innocence lost.

For those who knew Reagan best, the loss feels surreal.

“She was very loving, very kind,” said Christopher “Jonesy” Butler-Jones, a close family friend. “That was her dream — to be a mother, to raise a family. Her kids were everything to her.”

Jonesy’s voice broke as he spoke of Christian, who is now left to carry the unimaginable weight of losing not just one loved one, but five. “He lost his whole family. It’s just heart-wrenching.”

Christian’s stepmother, Sarah Stoltman, set up a GoFundMe campaign to help cover the overwhelming costs of funeral arrangements and transporting the family’s remains to Florida. The campaign — seeking $120,000 — has already raised more than $88,000, a sign of how deeply this tragedy has affected people, even strangers.

“While Christian works with his and Reagan’s family to begin mourning these five beautiful souls, we cannot even fathom the financial burden it is going to endure,” Sarah wrote. “This is about giving them the dignity and peace they deserve.”

Photographer Katrina Cusatis, who had captured maternity photos for the family last fall, shared her heartbreak in a tribute: “Their love, joy, and connection were truly unforgettable. My heart is completely broken.”

Across social media, others have echoed that sentiment, posting memories, childhood photos, and words of disbelief. The pain is widespread, stretching from North Carolina to Florida, from the family’s inner circle to people moved by their story from afar.

Reagan Dougan is remembered as someone who made you feel like sunshine — warm, joyful, unwavering in her love. Her children, though their lives were brief, filled days with laughter, light, and the kind of energy only little ones can bring.

The world may never understand why tragedies like this happen. But in the wake of this loss, one thing is clear: love remains. It pulses through the memories, the stories, the photos, and the outpouring of support. It’s in the small things — a smell from a kitchen, a neighbor’s wave, a child’s laugh that echoes just a little too long in your memory.

For Christian, the road ahead is unfathomable. But he isn’t walking it alone.

As friends and strangers alike wrap him in support, and as Reagan and the children are laid to rest, their legacy lives on — in love, in community, and in the unbreakable bond of a family that even death can’t erase.

The worst kind of living is in captivity. Unfortunately, a lot of animals suffer from this fate as a result of human cruelty. Grandma Somboon, an elephant who was kept in captivity for more than 80 years, is one of them.

After being rescued from the wild as a calf, this unfortunate animal has lived her entire life transporting tourists and entertaining at shows.

The Save Elephant Foundation in Thailand, a group that advocates for captive elephants, eventually took notice of Somboon.

The rescue posted on Facebook last year, saying, “We’re on a rescue mission to protect Somboon and transport her to her final true home.” “It’s time for Grandma to be cared for well and allowed to rest.”

Their mission to finally give the lovely animal the life she has always deserved was accomplished quickly.

Somboon was taken to the Elephant Nature Park sanctuary after being released from his shackles.
It did not, however, mean that her ordeal was over.

Unfortunately, her body and health suffered as a result of years of neglect and hard work.

She was severely dehydrated, emaciated, missing a tooth, and her eyes were blurry, and she still had a long way to go before she fully recovered.

“Upon arrival, many new elephants, still plagued by paranoia and lack of trust, take weeks before they will lie down,” the rescue wrote.

“However, Grandma Somboon defied the norm. Exhausted from her journey and a lifetime of hardship, she promptly sought the sand pile prepared for her, sleeping soundly amidst the bustling activities around her.”

After being brought to her new haven, Somboon immediately lay down and rested because she was worn out from the difficult life she had led for more than 80 years.

She was able to sleep without her ancles being chained for the first time in eight decades.

She was able to adapt, despite her rescuers’ fears that she wouldn’t.

Every day, Somboon makes progress that surprises everyone.

Life felt good again for this poor elephant.

The existence of rescue organizations that provide abused and neglected animals with a fresh start makes us very happy.