Agnes Lloyd had never celebrated her birthday in all her years on this Earth, and her 70th was getting close. On the day of, she pretended it was just a typical day until she walked out to her car and heard someone shockingly yelling her name. She never imagined what would happen next.
“When’s your birthday, Mrs. Lloyd?” one of the students, Christian, asked Agnes suddenly. They had finished the entire lesson quicker than she expected, and they were discussing other topics of conversation, which she encouraged this one time. But she was caught off guard by Christian’s question.
Her birthday was not a pleasant topic at all. She hadn’t celebrated it in her almost 70 years, which was a sore subject for her. Her parents didn’t care about birthdays and didn’t have the money for presents either way. When she married her late husband at 18, they focused on studying and making a good life for themselves, so they disregarded most celebrations too.
Then their kids came along and were always the main focus. Agnes was sure that none of her children even knew the exact date of her birth, and maybe that was her fault for not making them put in the effort. But after so many years, she just let it go. It was easier than being disappointed.
The thought made her smile as she walked in the street toward the parking lot when a sudden yell startled her. “MRS. LLOYD!” the sound reverberated, and she dropped her purse from the fright.
“Well, my birthday is not important, guys. I don’t really celebrate it all,” she told her students, scrunching her nose and shaking her head.
“But you have to celebrate it. How old are you turning this year?” Christian inquired, and the others laughed a bit. He looked around the class, confused. “What? Is that rude?”
“It’s a little rude to ask how old an older woman is. But I’ll tell you. I’m turning 70 this year, and it’s just going to be another regular day,” she replied, laughing at Christian’s innocence.
“That’s a big milestone! Are your children coming?” another student chimed in, and Agnes shook her head. Her children had their own lives now, and they never did anything for her birthday.
“No, they’re busy. And I don’t even think they remember my birthday. But what kind of birthday parties do young people have these days?” Agnes asked, distracting them from her birthday. They took the bait and soon started discussing all kinds of parties and themes that are popular nowadays. Agnes breathed a sigh of relief and smiled at the kids.
The class ended, and the rest of her day went on as usual. But the subject of her birthday hurt her heart that night. Her husband died many years ago, and although they didn’t celebrate, hugging him on her birthday was always great. Now, she was alone, and nothing seemed to matter.