Valarie Watts was heartbroken when she delivered her stillborn son, Noah, in July. As she mourned, she decided to sell most of the items she had purchased in anticipation of bringing him home. Among the things she couldn’t part with, however, was a white crib that held so many hopes and dreams.
Last month, during a yard sale, a retiree named Gerald Kumpula noticed the crib. Though Valarie, 28, had been hesitant to let it go, Gerald, 75, gently asked if he could buy it. A craftsman who specialized in creating benches from old headboards and footboards, Gerald had an eye for transforming the old into something new.
Valarie eventually agreed to sell it for just two dollars, finding some solace in knowing that Gerald would be crafting something beautiful from the crib. “I was kind of at peace with it,” she said, “because he’d be making something nice.”
As Valarie and Gerald’s wife, Lorene, struck up a conversation at the sale, Lorene asked about Valarie’s son. It was then that Valarie shаrеd her heart-wrenching story of loss. Touched by her pain, Lorene relayed the story to Gerald on their way home.
Having raised fifteen children and doted on numerous grandchildren, the Kumpulas understood the depth of Valarie’s grief. They knew that the crib truly belonged with her. A week later, they returned with a special gift: a bench crafted from the crib that had once symbolized her dreams for Noah.
Valarie was overwhelmed with emotion when she saw the bench. “It’s beautiful,” she told TODAY.com. “There are still good people out there.” The bench now sits in her living room, a space filled with memories of Noah.
“I’m so happy that it’s not just sitting around doing nothing,” she said. “Now I can sit in it, hold his bear, and think about him if I need to.” In the final days of her pregnancy, Valarie had noticed a decrease in Noah’s movements. On July 22, during a cesarean section, she and her fiancé, Jimi Hamblin, received the devastating news that Noah wasn’t breathing. The doctors later explained that his umbilical cord had tightened, cutting off his oxygen supply.
The Kumpulas, who had lost their first grandchild to stillbirth, were deeply empathetic to Valarie’s pain. Gerald understood the sorrow that an unused crib could bring. “An аbаndоned crib is a somber reminder,” he said. “A bench functions more as a monument. It’s a part of that awful event, but it’s not a crib—an empty crib—likе it would be.”
Gerald refused any payment for the bench, simply saying, “It’s just nice to be able to help someone. Helping others is good.”
Valarie, who is set to marry Jimi this autumn, finds comfort in the bench, which now sits next to a bookcase holding pictures, footprints, handprints, and ashes of Noah. The couple also has a 7-year-old daughter named Nevaeh. For Valarie, the bench has become a place of solace.
“Even though he’s not here, I feel comforted by his presence when I’m sitting in it,” Valarie said. “Everything has a calm, ‘it’s okay’ vibe to it. I can sit on the bench and feel better when I’m depressed; everything will work out in the end.”