When I came home from my daughter's funeral, I found a tent in my garden - I turned pale when I saw what I found inside

I blinked and rubbed my eyes. Maybe I was hallucinating. Grief does strange things to people, doesn't it? I was exhausted and emotionally drained. But no, the tent was still there. Bold, bright, and out of place. It was like a splash of color in a black-and-white world.

I slowly got out of the car. My legs felt like they might give way at any moment. Who would set up a tent in my backyard? And today of all days? Questions swirled around in my head. Was this a prank? Or had I completely lost my mind?

I approached, each step feeling heavier than the last. The wind picked up, rustling the colorful flags on the tent roof. My heart pounded so hard I thought it would burst.

“This can’t be true,” I muttered, clenching my fists.

But it was real. As I got closer, I could see the details—the stitches on the fabric, the wooden stakes holding it in place. My mind raced. There was no note, no indication of who had put it there or why.

I reached out and touched the tent flap. It felt solid and real. My stomach lurched. I didn't want to open it, but I had to know what was inside.

I took a deep breath, grabbed the edge of the flap and pulled it open.

I opened it slowly, my breathing shallow, my heart racing. Inside lay something, wrapped up in the middle of the room. For a moment, I couldn't believe it. It was wrapped in a blanket, small and silent. My stomach lurched, and I couldn't stop the flood of memories that suddenly overwhelmed me.

Lily lay in the hospital bed. So pale. So fragile. The tubes, the machines. I remember her tiny body swallowed by the blankets and how she barely moved in the last few days. My knees almost buckled under the weight.

"No," I whispered in a trembling voice. "No, not again..."

I took a step forward, my whole body shaking. The sight before me felt like another cruel joke, as if the world were mocking me. Why today? Why now?

Suddenly the bundle moved.

I gasped and froze. My heart pounded so loudly I could hear it in my ears. For a split second, I didn't know what to do. My mind raced, expecting the worst and preparing myself for even more pain.

But then a small head peeped out from under the blanket. A tiny Labrador puppy, his fur soft and golden like sunlight. He blinked at me with big, curious eyes, a pink bow tied around his neck. My breath caught in my throat. I stared at him, completely overwhelmed.

“What… what are you doing here?” I whispered in a shaky voice.

The puppy wriggled out of the blanket and stumbled toward me, tail wagging. He was so full of life, so innocent, a stark contrast to the grief that had consumed me for so long. I slowly knelt down and reached out to touch the soft fur, still in disbelief. My fingers trembled as they brushed against the puppy's warm, vibrant fur.

Tears welled up in my eyes. "Why is there a puppy here? Who did this?" My voice broke, confusion mingling with the heavy sadness I'd been carrying with me all day.

As I petted the puppy, I noticed something else—an envelope under the blanket. My heart stopped. With trembling hands, I picked it up and stared at it for a moment. The handwriting on the front seemed familiar. My breath caught in my throat when I recognized it. Lily's handwriting. Messy, but hers.

Tears blurred my vision as I carefully opened the envelope. Inside lay a short, simple message. My hands trembled as I read the words.