It was a freezing night in Chicago, and the bitter wind whipped through the streets like an angry beast. Michael Jordan, after another long day of charity events, was driving through the city in his black Mercedes. The temperature outside had dipped to 12°F, and the soft glow of his car’s dashboard clock ticked away at 11:43 PM. The streetlights flickered as snowflakes swirled in the headlights, adding to the silence of the empty streets.
Michael had just finished signing hundreds of basketballs for sick children at the Children’s Hospital, but something felt off. He couldn’t shake the feeling of emptiness that seemed to have followed him all day. As he drove, his thoughts drifted to a different time, to a part of his life he’d been searching for answers to for so long. His mind was restless when his eyes caught sight of something—someone—standing against the wall of a convenience store, Sam’s Corner. A young girl, no more than twelve, was shivering in the cold with only a thin jacket and a worn Cubs baseball cap on her head. Even from his car, Michael could see how cold she was.
His heart tightened. He had seen many homeless people in Chicago, but there was something different about this girl. Maybe it was the way she tried to look brave despite the obvious cold, or perhaps it was the emptiness in her eyes. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he felt compelled to stop. He pulled into the parking lot.
“Hey there,” Michael called softly, stepping out of his car. The girl’s eyes shot up, her body tensing as if she might run.
“It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you,” he reassured her, though her eyes seemed to search his face, looking for any sign of deceit. He felt a strange jolt as their eyes met—deep brown with flecks of gold. There was something familiar about them.
The girl hesitated. “I’m fine, Mister,” she said, her teeth chattering. “I don’t need anything.”
Michael smiled, understanding her pride, remembering the same feeling when he was young and too proud to accept help. “Take this,” he said, removing his expensive cashmere coat. “It’s cold out here, and you don’t deserve to freeze.”
She stared at the coat, then at him. “Why?”
“Because sometimes, angels dress up like regular people to test our kindness,” Michael said with a smile, his voice light. “And I’d hate to fail an angel test.”
A tiny smile crept across the girl’s face, transforming her from a scared street kid into someone more approachable. But as Michael watched, his head started to ache again. There was something so familiar about her.
“Thank you,” she whispered, taking the coat. “I’m Sarah.”
“I’m Michael,” he replied, taking a step back. “Stay safe, Sarah. If you need anything else, you can come back here.”
She nodded, pulling the coat tighter around herself. She seemed a little warmer now, both physically and emotionally.
As Michael walked back to his car, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that he had just met someone incredibly important. Something about her smile, her eyes, seemed to remind him of someone he had been searching for his entire life.
At home, Michael sat in his heated garage, staring at the photo wall in his mansion. He barely looked at the photos anymore—they were just part of the background. But tonight, one photo stood out—a family picture from when he was a toddler, with his parents, his baby sister, and him.
His sister. The one who had been stolen from the hospital before they could even take her home. He stared at the only photo they had of her, a nurse’s photo taken just hours before she vanished. The baby had been too young to clearly identify her eyes, but in the picture, there was a small smile—one that felt familiar.
The pain of losing her gripped Michael’s chest. But now, as he thought about Sarah, about her eyes, her smile, he couldn’t ignore the connection. The possibility that this girl, this Sarah, might be the sister they had been searching for for 30 years.
The next few days were a whirlwind of hope and confusion. Michael’s security team searched the city for Sarah, following every lead. They learned where she washed dishes for food and where she hung out with other homeless kids. Each place added to the mystery of her life, but the most important piece was still missing.
It wasn’t until Michael tracked down Sarah again at an old warehouse on Pine Street that he found the confirmation he needed. After offering Sarah food and medicine, Michael’s suspicion grew. The more time they spent together, the more he realized—there was something undeniably familiar about her.
The tests, the photographs, the birthmark—everything began to fall into place.
When Michael called his mother to tell her what he had found, her voice trembled. “Michael, could it be? After all these years… is it really her?”
The DNA test results confirmed it. Sarah was indeed Michael’s sister, Joy, stolen from the hospital 30 years ago. The joy, the disbelief, the tears—they couldn’t be contained.
But for Sarah, it was overwhelming. The reality of her past—the lies her foster parents had told her—was too much. Still, she couldn’t deny the connection she felt. She saw something familiar in Michael’s parents’ eyes, too.
As she recovered in the hospital, Sarah began to remember fragments of her past. The lullaby Michael’s mother used to sing to her, the comfort of a warm coat. Slowly, the family began to heal, and they were finally able to bring Joy, now Sarah, home.
The media was relentless, but Michael kept them at bay, just as he promised. His family had already suffered enough. Sarah needed time to adjust. She needed time to heal.
In the weeks that followed, Sarah Joy adjusted to her new life. She had a new room, a new family, and a new beginning. But one thing stayed the same—the coat. The coat that had started it all, that had brought them together.
One night, Sarah Joy looked at Michael and said softly, “I think I’m ready to be Joy. But can I still be Sarah sometimes? Until I get used to it?”
Michael smiled and nodded. “You can be whoever you need to be.”
And with that, a family that had been broken for 30 years was finally whole again.
Sometimes love looks like a coat given to a stranger. Sometimes it’s the smallest acts of kindness that bring the biggest miracles.
And for Michael, it was the coat that reunited him with his sister. The one he never knew he was meant to find.
The winter had been long, but spring had finally arrived.
Sarah Joy Jordan was home.
Working for Michael Jordan’s $175 Million Investment, Daughter Jasmine Was Worried about the Goat’s False ‘Last Dance’ Stories
February 20, 2022; Cleveland, Ohio, USA; NBA great Michael Jordan is honored for being selected to the NBA 75th Anniversary Team during halftime in the 2022 NBA All-Star Game at Rocket Mortgage FieldHouse. Mandatory Credit: Kyle Terada-USA TODAY Sports
The farther away we get removed from Michael Jordan and his dominance over the NBA, the more the Bulls legend seems to get mythologized. Every story about MJ feels as though it came straight of a fictional tale, whether it be about something he did on the court or if it was something he did off it, from say, a maniacal and competitive standpoint.
However, while us fans know Michael as well, the Michael Jordan, his kids simply thought of him as ‘dad’. Earlier on in their childhood, Jeffrey, Marcus, and Jasmine never truly understood the hoopla surrounding their father.
As they got older, they began to realize that Jordan was perhaps more than just an ordinary man. He was a global and cultural icon, adored by millions across the globe. Jasmine in particular would understand this but at the same time, didn’t think of him as anything more than just a man.
Jasmine Jordan would constantly text Michael Jordan about his Bulls stories
‘The Last Dance’ docuseries taught an entirely new generation about the greatness that Michael Jordan put on display on a nightly basis in the 1980s and 90s. Since Jasmine Jordan was still a kid during her father’s reign over the league, she never got a full grasp of what went down during those 12-14 years.
While watching the Netflix doc, she realized that her dad’s stories about the Bulls were turning out to be quite true. Though, she was still quite skeptical about it all. So, in an interview, she hilariously admitted that she would text her dad during the series and ask him if all those stories in the doc were true.
Well if there’s one person in the history of sports who doesn’t need to exaggerate how incredible their career was, it would be Michael Jordan. So it’s safe to say that the stories he told his daughter were probably all true.
Jasmine Jordan now works for her father
Michael Jordan purchased the Charlotte Hornets in 2010 for a measly $175 million. In just 12 years, that investment is now worth $1.7 billion. Jasmine actually works as a representative of several Hornets players in the franchise.
She’s also a field representative for Jordan Brand in the sports marketing department, taking into account future athletes, with a focus on women’s sports.
