Her journey, though challenging, is one she does not have to walk alone.
Valarie Watts was sad when she gave birth to her stillborn son in July. Still grieving, she decided to sell most of the goods she had bought in preparation for bringing Noah home.
On the other hand, she was adamant about keeping the white crib and decided to leave it out of the garage sale she held last month. Gerald Kumpula, a pensioner, saw it and tried to buy it.
Watts, 28, was hesitant but eventually agreed when she learned that Gerald, 75, was a craftsman who built benches from old footboards and headboards.
“I was fine with it because he would have done something nice,” Watts explained. She agreed to sell for $2.
Watts was talking to Gerald’s wife Lorene and revealed his horrific story when Lorene noticed the baby items on sale and asked Watts how old her son was.
Lorene told Gerald about Watts’ story on the way home. Watts’ crib belonged to the Kumpulas, who have 15 children and dozens of grandchildren. A week later, the pair delivered Watts a bench made from a crib.
Watts told TODAY.com, “It’s beautiful.” “There are still good people out there,” I reasoned.
She kept the bench in her living room as a reminder of Noah.
“I am overwhelmed with joy that it is not just sitting somewhere unused,” she noted. “Now I can sit in it and hold his bear and think of him when I need to.
Watts experienced decreased fetal movement in the final days of her pregnancy, and Noah was born by C-section on July 22, just hours after Watts and friend Jimi Hamblin discovered he had no heartbeat. Doctors believe Noah’s umbilical cord was compressed, depriving him of oxygen.
Watts’ plight was better understood by the Kumpulas, whose first grandchild was stillborn.
“The unused crib is a sad reminder,” Gerald remarked. “The bench serves as a memorial.” It’s part of that terrible incident, but it’s not a reminder like an empty crib would be.”
Gerald refused Watts’ offer to pay him.
“It’s nice to be able to help someone. Helping others is rewarding,” he noted.
Watts has a 7-year-old daughter named Nevaeh and plans to marry Hamblin this fall. She says the bench, which sits near a corner bookcase with Noah’s photos, handprints, footprints, and ashes, helps her cope with her loss.
“In a way, when I’m sitting in it, I feel comforted by his presence, even though he’s not here,” said Watts, the nanny. “It’s like peace, everything feels great. When I’m feeling down, I can sit on the bench and know that everything is going to be okay.”
Noah’s memory lives on, not just in Valarie’s heart but also in the form of a bench that now holds a sacred place in her home. It’s a symbol of hope, a reminder that even in the darkest moments, there is light to be found.
In a world that often seems cold and indifferent, Valaria’s story reminds us that acts of kindness, no matter how small, have the power to touch lives, mend hearts, and create lasting connections. It is a testament to the resilience of the human spirit, the ability to turn grief into a force for good, and the beauty that can emerge from the ashes of grief. As the bench stands as a silent witness to this narrative of loss and love, it invites us all to reflect on the impact we can have on each other’s lives and the legacy of compassion we can leave behind.