Pratique du Shadowing: Learn English With Story 🔥 The Secret About Dad | Level 3 Listening Practice - Apprendre l'anglais à l'oral avec la vidéo
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Hello, and welcome to English Story.
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Today's story is emotional, mysterious, and filled with secrets, family tension, and a painful search for the truth.
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It will also help you improve your English listening and vocabulary through simple conversations and real -life emotions.
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As you listen, try to imagine every scene, every expression, and every feeling.
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This is the story of a young woman who uncovers a family secret
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and searches for the father she thought had abandoned her.
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My name is Nora, and for most of my life I believed my family was ordinary.
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I grew up in a small town surrounded by green hills, quiet fields, and narrow roads.
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There was one main street in the center of town.
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It had a bakery, a small supermarket,
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a pharmacy, a library, and a little cafe where older people met every morning.
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Almost everyone knew each other.
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If someone bought a new car, the whole town knew about it before the end of the day.
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If a child got a good grade at school, their parents would tell their neighbors.
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And if someone moved away, people would talk about it for weeks.
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For many people, the town felt safe.
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For me, it sometimes felt too small.
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I was 19 years old and I had recently finished school.
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I wanted to study photography in a big city.
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I wanted to meet new people, see different places, and discover what kind of person I could become.
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But my family was very close, and leaving home was not easy.
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I lived with my mother, Lisa, my grandmother, Rose, and my younger brother, Kevin.
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My mother worked at the town library.
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She loved books and spent most of her free time reading.
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My grandmother took care of our garden and grew flowers, tomatoes, and herbs.
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Kevin was 12 years old and had more energy than anyone I knew.
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And then there was me.
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I was quiet and usually kept my feelings to myself.
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I loved taking photographs photographs, I photographed almost everything—the old train station, the trees behind our house,
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people walking through the market, the bakery in the early morning.
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Sometimes I even took pictures of empty streets because I liked the feeling of quiet places.
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My mother often smiled when she saw me with my camera.
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You see beauty everywhere, she once told me.
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I laughed.
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Maybe that's because I don't know what else to do.
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You'll find your way, she said.
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At the time, I didn't realize how important those words would become.
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My life seemed normal until one Tuesday morning.
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My mother was working at the library.
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Kevin was at school.
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My grandmother was in the garden, and I was cleaning the house.
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Our house was old, so there were always things that needed to be cleaned or repaired.
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That morning, I decided to clean the closet under the stairs.
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I moved some old coats and boxes.
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Then I saw something behind them.
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It was a small wooden suitcase.
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It was covered in dust.
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I pulled it out and placed it on the floor.
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I had never seen it before.
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There was no lock.
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I opened it.
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Inside were old clothes, postcards, photographs, and a small brown envelope.
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The photographs immediately caught my attention.
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I picked up the first one.
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It showed my mother, but she looked very young.
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She was standing beside a man I had never seen before.
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The man was tall, with dark hair and a warm smile.
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He was holding a baby.
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I looked more closely.
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The baby was me.
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My hands became I turned the photograph over.
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There were three words written on the back.
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Nora, six months.
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I stared at the photograph.
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Who was this man?
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I picked up another photograph.
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There he was again.
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He was standing beside my mother near a lake.
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Another picture showed him sitting at a restaurant with my mother.
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In another, he was holding me.
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There were so many photographs,
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and in every one he looked happy I had never seen him before not once I
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suddenly remembered something from my childhood
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when I was seven years old I had asked my mother
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about my dad she had been washing dishes at the time I
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remember turning toward her and asking mom where is my dad she had stopped washing the plate.
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Then she had said, he's not part of our lives.
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Why?
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I asked.
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Sometimes people leave, she replied.
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I asked more questions.
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She became quiet.
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Eventually, I stopped asking.
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As I sat on the floor that morning, I realized that the man in the photographs was my father.
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But why had nobody told me?
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I opened the brown envelope.
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Inside was a letter.
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The paper was old and yellow.
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I unfolded it carefully.
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It was addressed to my mother.
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The first sentence made my heart beat faster.
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Lisa, one day Nora will ask about her father.
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I stopped reading for a moment.
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Then I continued.
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Please don't tell her that he stopped loving her.
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That isn't true my eyes moved quickly across the page he wanted to come back you know
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that one day she deserves to know what really happened there
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was no signature i read the letter again my father hadn't
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simply disappeared there was a story behind his disappearance a story
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my mother had never told me i put the letter back
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into the envelope then i heard the front door open my
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mother was home nora she called i quickly stood up she
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walked into the hallway then she saw the suitcase her face
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changed she looked frightened what are you doing i found this I said.
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She didn't answer.
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I held up the photograph.
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Who is he?
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My mother stared at the photograph.
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Then she looked at me.
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Where did you find that?
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Here, I replied.
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I showed her the letter.
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She became very quiet.
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Mom, who is this man?
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I asked.
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She sat down slowly on the stairs.
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His name is Eric.
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I swallowed.
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Eric what?
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I asked.
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Eric Martin, she replied.
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Is he my father?
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I asked.
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She closed her eyes.
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Yes.
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The words seemed to echo inside my head.
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My father.
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My father was alive in those photographs.
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He had held me.
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He had smiled at me.
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He had looked at me with love.
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And my entire life, I had believed he simply didn't want me.
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Where is he?
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I asked.
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My mother didn't answer.
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Mom, where is he?
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I don't know, she replied you don't know I asked she looked down he
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left a long time ago why I asked I don't want
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to talk about it she said I felt anger growing inside me then
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when were you planning to tell me she remained silent next year
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when i was 20 30 i asked nora please she said
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no i shouted my voice began to shake i've spent my
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entire life thinking my father didn't care about me my mother started crying
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i never said
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that you didn't have to you never talked about him i said i was trying to protect you, she said.
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I stared at her. From what?
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She didn't answer.
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From my father, I asked.
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She shook her head.
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From the truth.
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That sentence frightened me more than anything else.
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What truth?
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I asked.
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My mother stood up.
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I can't tell you today.
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Why?
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I asked.
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Because it's complicated, she replied.
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Then explain it, I said.
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I need time, she replied.
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I shook my head.
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You've had 19 years.
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She looked at me with tears in her eyes.
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I know.
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Then she walked into the kitchen.
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I stayed in the hallway.
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For the first time in my life, I realized that my mother had a part of her life that I knew nothing about.
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And somehow, I knew I couldn't stop searching until I found the truth.
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That night, I couldn't sleep.
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I kept thinking about the photographs.
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My father had been there.
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He had held me.
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He had smiled.
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He had loved me.
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So why had he disappeared?
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The next morning, I went to the library.
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My mother was working behind the front desk.
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I didn't speak to her.
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Instead, I went upstairs to the old records room.
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I knew my grandmother had kept old family documents there.
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I began searching through boxes birth certificates old newspapers letters bills
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photographs then I found an old newspaper article the headline said
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local businessman leaves town after family dispute the man's name was
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Eric Martin my father's name I read the article carefully Eric
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had owned a small repair shop in town the article said
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he had left after a serious disagreement with his business partner
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then i saw another name victor lewis my mother's older brother my uncle i sat down
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why had my father argued with my uncle i searched through
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more papers then i found a second article It mentioned financial problems at the repair shop.
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Money had disappeared.
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Someone had been accused of taking it, but the article did not say who.
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I knew I had to talk to my grandmother.
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That afternoon, I found Rose sitting in the garden.
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Grandma, I need to ask you something.
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She looked at me, then she sighed. About Eric?
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I froze.
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You knew?
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She put down her gardening gloves.
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I knew there were things your mother didn't want you to know.
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Please tell me, I said.
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I promised Lisa I wouldn't, she replied.
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Grandma, please, I said.
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She looked at me for a long time.
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Then she whispered.
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Your father didn't leave because he stopped loving you.
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I felt tears in my eyes.
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Then why did he leave?
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She looked toward the garden gate.
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Because your uncle Victor was involved.
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I felt nervous.
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Involved in what?
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Money, she replied.
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I stared at her.
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What happened?
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She took a deep breath.
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Your father discovered that Victor had been taking money from their business.
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I couldn't believe it.
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My uncle stole from them?
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Yes, she said.
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Did dad report him?
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I asked.
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No, she replied.
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Why?
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I asked.
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Because your mother was afraid, she said.
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Afraid of Victor?
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I asked.
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Rose nodded.
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He threatened her.
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I stood there silently.
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What did he threaten her with?
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My grandmother looked at me.
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He said he would destroy the family if Eric went to the police.
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Suddenly, the mystery became even darker.
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But one question remained.
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Where is my father now?
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My grandmother looked away.
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I don't know.
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Then she added quietly, but perhaps your mother does.
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That evening, I returned home.
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My mother was sitting alone in the living room.
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I stood in front of her.
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I know about Uncle Victor.
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She looked up quickly.
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Who told you?
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Grandma, I replied.
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My mother closed her eyes.
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I didn't want you to find out this way.
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Then tell me the truth, I said.
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She looked at me.
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This time, she didn't say no. Instead, she whispered, Your father never stopped loving you.
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And then she reached for a drawer beside her.
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She took out another envelope.
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This belongs to you.
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I stared at it.
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What is it?
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A letter from your father, she replied.
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I felt a little nervous.
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Why have you kept it?
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My mother looked at me with tears in her eyes, because I was afraid.
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I slowly took the envelope, and before I opened it, I already knew
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that my life was about to change forever her I sat
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at the kitchen table with the envelope in front of me
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for several seconds I couldn't open it my mother sat across
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from me she didn't speak finally I pulled the letter out the handwriting was old
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but clear the first line said my little Nora I stopped nobody had ever called me
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that i began reading my little nora
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if you ever read this letter i want you to know
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that i never wanted to leave you the day you were
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born was the happiest day of my life i remember holding you in my arms you were
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so small you opened your eyes and looked at me i promised myself that i would always protect you.
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I couldn't continue.
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My eyes filled with tears.
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I looked at my mother.
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Why didn't you show me this?
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She looked down.
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Because I was afraid.
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I continued reading.
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The letter explained everything.
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My father had discovered that Victor had been stealing money from their repair business.
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Eric wanted to go to the police, but Victor threatened my mother.
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He told her that if Eric reported him, he would make sure our family lost everything.
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My mother became terrified.
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She begged Eric not to report Victor.
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Eric agreed to leave the town temporarily.
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He believed that after a few months, everything would become calm.
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He thought he would return.
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But before he left, he wrote the letter.
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The final line said, I don't know when I will see you again, Nora, but I want you to know one thing.
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No matter how many years pass, I will always love you.
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If you ever wonder why I left, please don't think it was because of you.
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You were never the reason you were the reason i wanted to stay i covered my mouth i couldn't stop crying
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my mother began crying too why did you let me believe he abandoned me i asked i was scared
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she replied that's not enough i said i know she replied
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what happened after he left i asked My mother took a deep breath.
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He came back.
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I looked at her. When?
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Two years later, she replied.
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Did you see him?
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I asked.
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Yes, she replied.
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What happened?
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I asked.
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She looked away.
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He came to our house did he ask about me i
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asked yes she replied did he want to see me i
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asked yes she said i spoke quietly then why didn't he my mother started crying
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because i told him you were better without him
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i stared at her you said
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that i was afraid victor would come after him again she replied
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but dad wasn't dangerous I said I know she said then why I asked
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because I made a terrible decision she replied for the first
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time I could see how much pain my mother had been carrying but understanding her didn't make the truth hurt less.
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Did dad try again?
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I asked.
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Many times, she replied.
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My mother stood up and walked to an old cabinet.
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She opened the bottom drawer.
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Inside were letters, lots of them.
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I stared at the pile.
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what are those letters from eric she replied i couldn't speak she picked up the first one
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he wrote every year i touched one carefully why did you keep them
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because i couldn't throw them away she replied how many are
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there i asked 22 she said i looked at her in despair belief.
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22 letters.
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My father had been writing to me for years, and I had never known.
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I opened another letter.
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He wrote about his life.
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He wrote about his repair shop.
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He wrote about the places he had traveled.
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But every letter mentioned me.
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He wondered if I liked school.
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He wondered if I still liked taking photographs.
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In one letter, he wrote, I hope Nora still looks at the world through a camera.
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She always saw things other people missed.
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I began crying again.
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He remembered.
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He knew me.
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Even though he wasn't there, he had never forgotten me.
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I spent the entire night reading those letters by morning i
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had made a decision i was going to find him my
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mother didn't try to stop me instead she gave me his
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last known address it was in a city several hours away
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i don't know if he still lives there she said but you should try i looked at her are you afraid
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she nodded very why I asked
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because I don't know what he will say she replied I
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understood my mother wasn't only afraid of my father she was
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afraid of the past the next morning I took the train
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my hands were shaking as I held the address I kept thinking about all the possible endings Maybe he had moved.
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Maybe he didn't want to see me.
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Maybe he had another family.
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Maybe he was angry.
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The train arrived after three hours.
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The city was much bigger than my hometown.
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There were tall buildings, crowded streets, buses, shops, and people everywhere.
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I felt lost, but I kept walking.
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The address led me to a small street near an old market.
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The house number was correct, but the house was empty.
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I stood outside for several minutes.
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Then I noticed an older man sitting on a bench nearby.
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Excuse me, I said.
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He looked at me.
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Can I help you?
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Do you know someone named Eric Martin?
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I asked.
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His expression changed.
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Eric?
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Yes, I replied.
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Are you looking for him?
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He asked.
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I nodded.
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The man studied my face.
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Then he smiled.
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You must be Nora.
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I was very surprised.
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How do you know my name?
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The man stood up.
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Eric told me about you.
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Where is he?
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I asked.
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He doesn't live here anymore, he replied.
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I felt disappointed.
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Do you know where he went?
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DeMann nodded.
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He owns a repair shop near the old train station.
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He gave me directions.
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I thanked him and started walking.
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The streets became quieter as I moved away from the center.
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Then I saw a small shop.
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There was an old sign above the door, Martin Repairs.
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I stopped.
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My heart was beating so fast that I could almost hear it.
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I stood outside for several seconds.
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I was afraid to go inside.
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Then the door opened.
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An older man walked out.
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He had gray hair.
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His face was thinner.
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There were lines around his eyes.
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But I knew him.
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I had seen his face in photographs my entire life he
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looked at me he froze I couldn't speak he whispered Nora
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I nodded his eyes filled with tears for a moment neither
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of us moved then he said I knew this day would come my voice shook
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how because i always hoped you would find me he replied he looked at me carefully
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you look just like your mother i smiled through my tears people say i look like you
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he laughed softly maybe that's true then he looked away i'm
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sorry those were the first words he said I'm sorry I wasn't there.
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I wiped my tears.
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I thought you left because you didn't want me.
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His face broke with sadness.
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Never.
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He stepped closer.
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I wanted to come back every single day.
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Then why didn't you?
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I asked.
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He took a deep breath.
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Because I thought staying away was protecting you.
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I looked at him.
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Everyone says that.
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He looked confused. Who?
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My mother, I replied.
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He closed his eyes.
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I understand.
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We went inside the shop.
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There were tools, machines, boxes, and old bicycles everywhere.
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We sat at a small table in the back.
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For hours, he told me the story.
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He told me about meeting my mother.
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He told me about the business.
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He told me about Victor.
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He told me how frightened my mother had been.
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And he told me something I didn't know.
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Victor had eventually admitted that he had taken the money.
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But by then, Eric had already left.
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Why didn't you come back after Victor admitted it, I asked.
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Your mother asked me not to, he replied.
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Why, I asked.
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She believed you had a better life without me, he said.
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I looked down.
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She was wrong.
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Yes, he whispered.
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Then he reached into a drawer.
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He pulled out a small box.
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I've kept this for you.
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I opened it.
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Inside was a tiny silver bracelet.
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There was a small letter beneath it.
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What's this?
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I asked.
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It belonged to you when you were a baby, he said.
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I stared at the bracelet.
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I thought my mother had it, I said.
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She gave it to me before I left, he replied.
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I held it carefully.
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Then I noticed something engraved on the inside.
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My name, Nora.
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I began to cry.
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My father reached across the table.
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This time, I didn't move away.
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He held my hand.
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I missed you so much.
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I looked at him.
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So did I.
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For the first time, we both cried not because we were strangers but
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because we were finally beginning to become a family before i
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left he asked me a question will you come back i
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smiled yes tomorrow he asked i laughed maybe not tomorrow he smiled then next week next week i said
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when i returned home my mother was waiting she stood
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when she saw me did you find him I nodded how
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was he I smiled he was waiting for me my mother
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covered her face with her hands then she began to cry
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I sat beside her he wants to see you she shook her head i don't know
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if i can you can i said i'm ashamed she replied you made mistakes i said i know she replied
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but he did too i said she looked at me
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do you hate me i was silent for a moment no are you angry she asked yes i replied she nodded
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i understand but i don't want to spend the rest of my life being angry i said
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my mother reached for my hand i don't deserve your forgiveness Maybe not yet, I said.
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She looked at me.
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But maybe one day.
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That was the beginning of our healing.
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The following month was difficult.
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My father came to our town.
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The first meeting between him and my mother was painful.
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They sat in the living room while I waited in the kitchen with Kevin.
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Nobody spoke for several minutes.
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Then my father said, I'm sorry.
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My mother looked at him.
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I'm sorry, too.
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There were no angry words, no shouting.
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Only two people who had carried the same painful memory for almost a while.
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20 years they talked for hours they talked about the past they talked about fear they talked about mistakes
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and finally they talked about forgiveness i didn't hear everything but i didn't need to
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when they came into the kitchen my mother was crying my father looked tired
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but both of them looked lighter Kevin looked at my father
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so you're really my dad my father smiled yes Kevin thought
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for a moment do you know how to fix bicycles my
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father laughed of course Kevin immediately smiled then you're useful we
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all laughed it was the first time our family had laughed together in a long time.
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From that day forward, things slowly changed.
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My father visited often.
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Sometimes he stayed for dinner.
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Sometimes he helped Kevin repair his bicycle.
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Sometimes he and my mother sat in the garden and talked.
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They didn't suddenly become the same people they had been 19 years ago.
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Too much time had passed.
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Too many things had happened.
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But they were learning how to forgive.
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And I was learning how to accept the family I had A few months later,
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I moved to the city to study photography Leaving home was still difficult But this time,
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I wasn't leaving because I wanted to escape I was leaving
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because I had a dream My father helped me carry my boxes to the train station My mother stood beside him
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Kevin gave me a hug.
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Don't forget us, he said.
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I won't, I replied.
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My grandmother smiled.
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You'd better visit.
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I will, I said.
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Before I got on the train, my father gave me something.
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It was the old wooden suitcase.
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The one where you found the photographs, he said.
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I looked at it.
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Why are you giving it to me?
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Because the story inside it belongs to you now, he replied.
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I smiled, but I'm going to put new things inside it.
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Good, he said.
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The train arrived.
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I hugged my mother, then my father.
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For a moment, I felt tears in my eyes.
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Not because I was afraid, because I finally knew where I belonged.
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As the train moved away from the station, I looked through the window.
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My family became smaller and smaller, but my heart felt full.
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I photographed my father repairing an old bicycle.
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I photographed my mother reading a book.
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I photographed Kevin raffing.
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Then I took a picture of all three of them standing together.
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When I looked at the photograph later, I smiled.
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It wasn't a perfect family, but it was real.
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And sometimes, real is better than perfect.
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I decided to call the photograph the family we found again.
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The photograph was later displayed at a small student exhibition.
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My father and mother came to see it.
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They stood in front of the picture for a long time.
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My father held my mother's hand.
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My mother smiled.
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I stood a few steps away and watched them.
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At that moment, I realized something.
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For 19 years, I had believed my family story had been stolen from me.
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But perhaps it wasn't stolen.
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Perhaps it had simply been waiting for me.
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Waiting for the day I became brave enough to ask questions.
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Waiting for the day my mother became brave enough to tell the truth.
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Waiting for the day my father could finally come home.
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Looking back, I understand why my mother kept the letters.
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She was afraid.
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She thought the truth would destroy me.
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But she learned something, too.
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Sometimes hiding the truth doesn't protect people.
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Sometimes it only delays their pain.
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The truth can hurt.
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It can make us angry.
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It can change everything we believe.
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But it can also give us a chance to heal.
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My father taught me another lesson love isn't always about being physically present sometimes people can be far away
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and still love you every day of course i wish he had been there
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when i was a child i wish he had watched me
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take my first photograph i wish he had attended my school events i wish he had been there
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when i was afraid but i cannot change the past what i can do is appreciate the time we have now Today,
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my father and I talk every Sunday.
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My mother still works at the library.
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Kevin is now much taller than me and still believes he can beat me at everything.
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My grandmother still takes care of her garden.
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And our family has learned to talk about difficult things.
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We don't hide behind silence anymore.
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Sometimes my mother and father still disagree.
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Sometimes old memories hurt.
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Sometimes, forgiveness takes time.
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But we keep trying.
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Because family isn't about being perfect.
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Family is about choosing to stay, choosing to listen, and choosing to forgive.
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I still have the old wooden suitcase.
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Inside it, I keep the photographs.
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I keep my father's letters.
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I keep the little silver bracelet.
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And I keep one photograph of my father holding me when I was six months old.
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Whenever I look at it, I remember the girl I used to be A girl who
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believed she had been forgotten A girl who thought her father
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had chosen to leave her A girl who didn't know the truth
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Then I look at my life now And I realize how much can change when we finally ask the right questions
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Sometimes one photograph can open a door Sometimes one letter can change your entire life.
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And sometimes the truth you fear the most is the truth that finally sets you free.
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This story teaches us several important lessons.
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First, truth has power.
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Secrets may seem protective, but they often create more pain than honesty.
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When we hide important truths, we prevent healing from happening.
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Second, forgiveness takes time.
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It doesn't happen overnight.
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It requires patience, understanding, and sometimes many difficult conversations.
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Third, love can survive distance.
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Just because someone is not physically present does not mean they have stopped loving you.
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Sometimes people make sacrifices because they believe it is the best way to protect their loved ones.
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Fourth, fear can cause mistakes.
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My mother was afraid, and that fear led her to make a decision that caused years of pain.
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But she was not a bad person.
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She was a frightened person.
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Understanding this helps us forgive.
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Fifth, family is what we choose to make it.
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Blood relations are important, but real family is built on honesty, effort, and the choice to stay connected,
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even when things are difficult.
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And finally, our past explains us, but does not define us.
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Nora believed her father had abandoned her.
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That belief shaped her childhood, but discovering the truth allowed her to rewrite her own story.
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Thank you for listening to this story on TaleTalk English.
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I hope this story helped you in two ways.
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First, I hope it helped you learn simple English through an emotional story.
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Second, I hope it gave you something useful for your real life.
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This story is about family, secrets, and the painful but necessary search for the truth.
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It reminds us that sometimes the hardest journey is not finding another person, but finding the truth.
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Now, I want to ask you one question.
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Would you want to know a painful family secret if it completely changed the way you saw your past?
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Write your answer in the comments.
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You can simply share your thoughts.
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Your comment may help another person who is facing a similar situation.
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If you enjoyed this story, please like this video, share it with a friend,
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and subscribe to TaleTalk English for more emotional and meaningful stories that help you learn while you listen.
What You'll Learn from This Story
This video isn't just a gripping tale—it's a goldmine for building real-world English skills. You'll practice active listening as you follow Nora's journey, picking up on subtle emotions in her voice and the natural flow of daily conversations. You'll also boost your vocabulary for describing family and small-town life, from "narrow roads" to "herbs in the garden." Plus, the story's slow, clear pace makes it perfect for shadow speak—repeating lines aloud to match the speaker's tone and rhythm, a key trick for sounding more natural.
Listen For These Sounds
Pay attention to how the speaker links words smoothly, a common feature of native speech. For example, "I wanted to study" becomes "I wanna study" (a reduction of "want to") and "she said" might sound like "she sed" (with a soft "d" instead of a hard "t"). You'll also hear connected speech in phrases like "the old train station," where "the" blends into "old" to sound like "thee old." These small sounds are what make English feel fluid—catch them, and your listening comprehension will soar.
Say It Like a Native
To mirror the speaker's rhythm, focus on stress: in "I loved taking photographs," the stress falls on "loved" and "photographs" to emphasize Nora's passion. For shadow speech, pause the video after short lines (like "You see beauty everywhere") and repeat them, copying the rise and fall of the speaker's voice. This isn't just about pronunciation—it's about feeling the emotion behind the words. Use this story as your shadowing site; the more you mimic, the more natural your own speech will become. And don't worry if you stumble—practice makes progress, and this story's warm, conversational tone makes it easy to keep trying.
Ready to start? Hit play, listen closely, and let Nora's secret guide you to better English. Remember: every time you repeat a line, you're one step closer to speaking like a native.
Qu'est-ce que la technique du Shadowing ?
Le Shadowing est une technique d'apprentissage des langues fondée sur la science, développée à l'origine pour la formation des interprètes professionnels. Le principe est simple mais puissant : vous écoutez de l'anglais natif et le répétez immédiatement à voix haute — comme une ombre suivant le locuteur avec un décalage de 1 à 2 secondes. Les recherches montrent une amélioration significative de la précision de la prononciation, de l'intonation, du rythme, des liaisons, de la compréhension orale et de la fluidité.