I thought my adoptive daughter was taking me to a nursing home, but when I saw where we were really going, I was shocked

When my husband passed away too soon, his daughter was just five years old. From that day, I took on all the responsibility of raising her. I fed her, cared for her when she was sick, helped with schoolwork, and stayed by her side during sleepless nights. Later, I supported her through college, both financially and emotionally.

Now, at thirty, my adoptive daughter had seemed distant and cold, and I feared she was tired of caring for me. One evening, she told me to pack only the essentials. I assumed she was taking me to a nursing home, my heart heavy with fear.

But when the car stopped, I was shocked. Before me stood a beautiful two-story house with a well-kept garden. My daughter smiled and said, “Mom, this is our home now. I’ve been saving to give you the house of your dreams.” Tears of joy filled my eyes.