Практика Shadowing: Learn English With Story 🔥 The Secret About Dad | Level 3 Listening Practice - Изучайте разговорный английский по видео
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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.
Что вы научитесь
Этот видеоролик поможет вам улучшить произношение английского, работая с естественной речью в повседневных сценах. Вы научитесь распознавать и использовать эмоциональную интонацию — как передавать тревогу, любопытство или умиление в разговоре. Также вы закрепите навык понимания длинных предложений с простым синтаксисом, что важно для свободного общения. И самое главное: здесь можно потренировать shadow speech — технику повторения речи за носителем, чтобы улучшить ритм и акцент.
Слушайте за этими звуками
В диалоге много связной речи: например, фраза "I wanted to study" слышится как "I wanna study" (сокращение "want to" до "wanna"). Обратите внимание на сцепление слов: "small town" превращается в "sm allt own", а "old train station" — в "ol dtra in station". Эти особенности делают речь естественной, и их важно замечать, чтобы говорить так же, как носители.
Говорите, как.native
Чтобы подражать ритму диалога, обратите внимание на ударения. В слове "photography" ударение на второй слог ("phoTOgraphy"), а в "emotional" — на первый ("eMOtional"). Используйте технику shadowing: повторяйте фразы за спикером сразу же, не останавливаясь. Это поможет вам привыкнуть к темпу речи и улучшить произношение. Для тренировки можно использовать shadowing site, где вы можете записать себя и сравнить с оригиналом. Помните: ключевой момент — чувствовать эмоции, которые передаёт речь, тогда ваша речь станет живой и естественной.
Что такое техника Shadowing?
Shadowing — это научно обоснованная техника изучения языка, изначально разработанная для подготовки профессиональных переводчиков и популяризированная полиглотом доктором Александром Аргуэльесом. Метод прост, но эффективен: вы слушаете аудио на английском от носителей языка и немедленно повторяете вслух — как тень, следующая за говорящим с задержкой в 1–2 секунды. В отличие от пассивного прослушивания или грамматических упражнений, Shadowing заставляет мозг и мышцы рта одновременно обрабатывать и воспроизводить реальные речевые паттерны. Исследования показывают, что это значительно улучшает точность произношения, интонацию, ритм, связную речь, понимание на слух и беглость речи — что делает его одним из самых эффективных методов для подготовки к IELTS Speaking и реального общения на английском.