Betrayed, abandoned, and distraught, they felt all was lost. In their darkest moments, fate gave them unexpected second opportunities.
Even the strongest are broken by life. Wendy faced a lonely future, Edith worried she had lost her son’s love, and Charlie discovered a tragic secret. In their darkest times, they found hope—proof that hope may emerge unexpectedly.
Son sees his mother’s will and orders her to pack immediately
I was drinking afternoon tea in my son Gerald’s magnificent home’s lounge when the phone rang. Helen, his assistant, transferred the call.
“Mother!” Gerald’s authoritative voice made my stomach twist. “I have two things to tell you. First of all, Sam sent me your new will by mistake… and I want you to pack your bags immediately.”
I laid my cup down with trembling hands. “Gerald… Are you upset about the will? Please let me explain—”
“I don’t need your explanations, Mother,” he interrupted. “I need you to have your bags packed and be ready to leave by 16:00.” He hung up.
I was frozen in my chair. I felt a heavy weight on my heart. Gerald, my youngest and closest kid, constantly supported me.
This year, when my arthritis deteriorated, he took me into his home without making me feel like a burden. I had disappointed him now.
I fought tears as I climbed stairs. I left my home and savings to Amy and Oliver, my older children. Gerald was wealthy and accomplished. Perhaps I misunderstood his heart. Maybe he felt slighted.
Packing began with my closet open. My mind raced as I folded garments with shaking hands.
I thought Gerald would accept my decision. Well, I was mistaken. While zipping my suitcase, a lump emerged in my throat.
Why did the housekeeper say “Mrs. Nezbit?” “Do you need any help?”
I nodded slowly. “Yes, dear, thank you.” We brought my stuff downstairs, my heart heavy with each step.
Gerald arrived on time at 16:00. He entered the house expressionless. “Please, Gerald, let me explain—”
“I don’t have time for explanations, Mother. Come.” His voice was forceful, preventing disagreement. He carried my suitcase to his trunk. I followed, heartbroken and silent.
I watched him drive, looking for signs of warmth and love. “Where are we going, Gerald?” I whispered.
He played the radio, drowning me out. My stomach twisted in uneasiness. I peered out the window and realized we were going to a new part of town.
“Listen, Gerald, about the will…” I asked, wanting to clarify.
He frowned and muttered, “Oh, the will!” “The will in which you leave your house and $120,000 in savings to be divided between Amy and Oliver, and I get the old cabin by the lake, Grandfather’s war photos, and Dad’s watch?”
A knot formed in my throat. “Yes… You see—”
Before I could finish, Gerald stopped the car. Surprised, I blinked. An elegant private jet waited at a small private airfield. Gerald turned to me and, to my surprise, had unshed tears in his eyes.
“Oh, Mom, I understand about the house and the money. Amy and Oliver are struggling, and I have more money than I could ever spend,” he remarked. “But what you’re leaving me shows me how well you understand me. You know exactly what’s important to me and close to my heart. I have all the money I need, but the memories you’re giving me? Those are priceless.”
I gasped, unable to comprehend his words. “But Gerald… I thought you were kicking me out!”
He grins. “No such luck! I’m taking you to Tahiti for two weeks. I think it will do your arthritis the world of good, and I could use some quality time with my mom!”
I sobbed as I hugged him. “Oh, Gerald! I thought—” I couldn’t finish.
He laughed, patting my back. “I know what you thought, Mom. But I’d never do that to you.”
I cried tears of relief and affection instead of holding them back. Finally, my darling son understood me.
The two weeks in Tahiti were fantastic. I didn’t realize I needed the warm sun, ocean breeze, and laughing we shared.
Gerald even acquired a tan, and to my joy, he met a stunning New York vacationer. Watching them together, I thought I wouldn’t have to wait long for grandchildren!
Son Leaves Mom Wheelchair-bound on Street, Year Later Sees Her Walking to His House
“Can’t talk now, mom! I’m with a customer. I might finally sell a house this year. I’ll call the neighbors to check up on you. But I’m sure it’s nothing. You must’ve sat on the pot too long. Ok. Gotta go. I’ll come in to check on you tonight.”
Wendy recalls calling her son John as her legs felt numb. She remembered her anxiousness when she contacted him for aid. She remembered gasping for breath, fearing death. Although he lived a few blocks away, her son didn’t have time to help.
He forgot to phone the neighbors or visit her that night. Throughout the year, he failed to sell any house.
Wendy started having leg numbness a year ago. They suddenly stopped working like paralyzed. Initially, her legs were weak for 10-15 minutes. She would gather herself and lie in a corner of the home until her legs recovered.
Over time, her legs went numb more often, until she fell and couldn’t get up. She called for aid, and the neighbors came. They informed John, who hurried Wendy to the hospital.
Wendy was diagnosed with unusual nerve compression condition, causing lower limb numbness. She and John disregarded her symptoms for nearly a year, complicating her problem. Her fall-related injuries made matters worse.
Wendy was wheelchair-bound.
John drove Wendy to and from the hospital for her first month of physiotherapy, but nothing helped. Even though she was paying for treatment, John was tired of transporting her about.
Wendy would wipe her tears while listening to her son’s disrespectful comments in the car.
He’s my son. Wendy consoled herself, “At least he’s there for me.”
After physiotherapy and medication failed, Wendy’s doctors recommended an expensive operation. Wendy begged John for aid after spending all her cash on treatment, but he refused.
“Do you know how much rent I pay for my house? I can’t afford it, but as a realtor, I need to have a lifestyle. Who would buy a house from someone who lives in a small house?” John said her.
Wendy’s neighbors called John to say she was in the hospital for surgery. Despite not knowing about the procedure, John drove to the hospital.
He entered Wendy’s room and saw her crying on her bed while physicians spoke to her. The primary doctor exited and asked, “Are you her son?” John nodded.
“Where have you been? We waited for a next of kin, but since no one arrived, we decided to deliver the news to Wendy directly.”
“What news?”
“Your mother’s surgery did not produce the expected results. We still haven’t noticed any significant movement in her legs. And we can’t be sure when we will see a change. We’ll have to wait and watch for now. Wendy has already signed the discharge formalities and is free to go.”
John consoled Wendy with false sympathy. He questioned her how she got the money as he wheeled her to his car.
“I didn’t want to trouble you, son, so I made the decision myself.”
“What decision, mom?”
“I sold the house.”
Astonished, John paused.
“Remember Joanne? My friend from the old book club who moved to another city? She introduced me to her nephew, who wanted to buy a house in our area. Actually, they called and said they were coming here to visit me—”
“Are you kidding, mom? You sold the house? And for what, a failed surgery? You’re so selfish! You didn’t even think of me! It’s my house too, right? I was waiting on that house after—”
John paused, but Wendy understood. She was hurt because John only worried about his inheritance and ignored her.
A potential customer called John while Wendy wiped her tears. He left to respond. He informed Wendy he had an urgent customer meeting after his call.
“Go, son. As I said, Joanne’s coming to visit me. I’ll ask her to drop me at the nursing home. I’ve already spoken to them about moving there.”
“You see, that’s what I’m talking about. I had no idea what you do—”
Another call interrupted John. He shook his head at his mother and ran. Wendy softly cried on the street near the parking lot, alone and hurt.
A year had gone since John last spoke to his mother. His driveway was approached by an automobile one morning. He wasn’t expecting guests. Walking out, he observed a senior woman exiting the car.
She looked for something in the glove compartment outside the car.
“Can I help you, ma’am?” John inquired, confused by a stranger parking outside his house.
The woman turning around shocked John to his core. Wendy was standing. “Mom, oh my God! How are you?”
She said, “Much better, son. I love every moment.” John was surprised and called Wendy over for a glass of water.
John had no idea how to approach her. Wendy responded, “Don’t look so gloomy, son. Look, I’m fine now. Remember when you left me all alone on the street after my failed surgery?” John turned pale remembering his behavior.
“Well! My friend Joanne and her nephew, Evan, arrived shortly after that. They were heartbroken seeing me all alone near the parking lot, so they took me with them instead of dropping me at the nursing home. Joanne had to leave the next day, but Evan offered for me to stay with him in my old house. I mean, his house since he bought it from me.”
“He cared for me like a son and even found better doctors in another city. I was afraid of another surgery, but Evan was there by my side throughout. And miraculously, the surgery worked. Evan also paid for my knee replacement surgery. Not only can I walk, but I can also run like I used to when I was young.”
John couldn’t speak. He was uncomfortable but didn’t like Wendy praising a stranger. He said, “I get it. I was a horrible son. But if this Evan is so great, why are you even here?”
John heard another automobile outside his house. A young man entered his home.
Wendy laughed “Oh, Evan. Great timing. We were just talking about you,” greeted Evan.
John shouted, “Excuse me. You can’t just enter my house like that,” pointing at Evan.
Evan’s “Well, but I can enter MY house, can’t I?” confused John.
Evan owned Jonathan’s house. John was uninformed because he solely dealt with the agency that mediated all transactions. John had also skipped six months’ rent and avoided agency contact.
The agency informed Evan, but Evan knew John was struggling from Wendy’s feedback, so he went easy on John and requested the agency to back off.
Wendy decided she couldn’t offer John any more rope after learning about his shenanigans. Evan should penalize John for not paying rent, she said.
Wendy grabbed into her suitcase. “Oh, I almost forgot, son!” “Here is the eviction notice. You have 15 days.” Wendy sent John and Evan out.
John held his head on his couch. He understood his actions had brought him to his knees.
Surprised to Learn His Birthday Deliveries Will Continue for 15 Years, Boy Cries.
Leaving school with his friend Mark, 15-year-old Charlie carried a rucksack over one shoulder.
The late afternoon sun created sweeping shadows across the parking lot, where students spoke and automobiles honked in chaos.
“Did you hear? We’ve got another test on Friday,” Mark announced.
Charlie slumped and grumbled.
“Oh no, not again! Is this the fourth test this week? School is exhausting…”
Mark grinned. “Don’t be so dramatic. It’s just studying. You always stress out before tests, but in the end, it all works out fine.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Charlie murmured, scanning the parking lot. Frowning clouded his face.
“My mom’s late again! How much longer do I have to wait?”
“Maybe something came up. Don’t be mad at her—she’s picking you up. Be grateful,” Mark shrugged.
Charlie side-glanced.
“Yeah? I don’t see your mom’s car either. Are you super grateful that she’s late too?”
Mark laughed quietly and shook his head. “She won’t be picking me up anymore. My parents bought me a car for my birthday.”
His jaw dropped when Charlie paused.
“What!? A car!? I’d be grateful too if someone got me a car!” he said, jealous.
Always calm, Mark shrugged again. “You should be grateful no matter what. She’s your mom. Anyway, see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah… bye,” Charlie said as Mark left toward the student parking.
A car horn blared across the lot as he stewed in irritation. Charlie turned to see his mom’s automobile.
He grumbled and hurried for his backpack, slinging it higher on his shoulder. He opened the automobile door and slid into the passenger seat, frowning.
Alice, his mother, looked over at him, grasping the steering wheel.
“Sorry, sweetheart, I’m late again. I had to finish a few things,” she apologized.
“You’re always late these days…” Charlie murmured, avoiding her look as he sank deeper.
Alice calmly sighed.
“I said I’m sorry. Now, tell me—how was your day?”
“Not great,” he said, peering out at the automobiles.
She looked at him again, worried. “What happened?”
“Mark’s parents bought him a car for his birthday,” Charlie added.
Alice smiled slightly to lighten the situation.
“That’s wonderful! Did he give you a ride?”
Charlie looked at her incredulously.
“No. Mom, my birthday’s coming up soon. Can you get me a car?”
Alice answered after temporarily tightening her wheel grip. “Sweetheart, I already have your gift planned. Maybe I can get you a car in a few years…”
“A few years!?” Charlie raged.
“So I have to wait while all my classmates drive around and I look like an idiot?”
Alice breathed gently and added, “I know it’s hard, but I just can’t afford a gift like that right now.”
Charlie crossed his arms and spoke sharply. “Then return whatever gift you got and buy me a car!”
“I can’t do that, Charlie. I’m sorry,” she stated firmly, her voice mournful.
Turning away, he pressed his forehead against the window.
Alice drove, periodically looking at her son, his disappointment weighing on them both.
The automobile slowed as she entered the driveway. Her features softened as she faced Charlie.
“Dinner’s in the fridge if you’re hungry. I have a few errands to run, but I won’t be long. Love you, sweetheart!”
“Yeah…” Charlie muttered without looking. He opened the car door and entered the home.
The empty house’s silence enveloped him as the door closed.
He dropped his backpack by the couch without sitting. He had a persistent itch in the back of his mind.
He thought his mom was overly quiet after their dispute. Why not tell him what she was doing?
His curiosity took over. He tiptoed into her bedroom quietly, feeling heavier like he had crossed an unseen line.
At her workstation, he opened her laptop.
The screen lit up, and he hesitated before clicking her email.
Most was unimportant—work announcements, receipts, newsletters.
He then saw a strange email confirming a birthday delivery.
He frowned when he opened it.
His eyes grew. Delivery was repeated. There were 14 more planned—one per year for 15 years.
He whispered, heart thumping, “What the…?”
Uneasy and confused, he searched her emails for a storage unit address.
He found a little key with the same address in her drawer under papers.
His heartbeat accelerated as he grabbed the key and left.
The parking lot’s dim light illuminated the storage unit’s metal door.
With shaking hands, Charlie unlocked it. He froze when the door creaked.
Inside, over a dozen nicely wrapped gifts were lined up.
Some were small enough for his palm, others large enough for a bike.
Each was topped with his mom’s looping script handwritten letter.
He entered with cardboard and subtle perfume odors. He read a note.
“Happy 17th birthday, sweetheart. I love you more than anything in the world. I hope you like this computer. Study hard!”
Setting the note back strained his throat. She did this—why?
He took the first gift, a little box with two notes. Drawing off the first, he gasped as he read:
“My dear son, if you’re reading this, I may no longer be with you. For years, I’ve known I had cancer, and no treatment has worked. My time is limited, but I didn’t want your birthdays to feel empty after I’m gone.”
Words blurred as tears filled his eyes. He wiped his cheeks, but tears kept falling onto the page.
“That’s why I prepared these gifts ahead of time. They may not always be exactly what you want, but please open one each birthday and know I love you. Always.”
Charlie gasped when he held the note. His chest hurt like never before.
He surveyed the storage container, where gifts became more than items.
She loved him and tried to stay with him even when she couldn’t.
He carefully returned the message, closed the door, and rested against it.
His heart was heavy, but he understood what his mom had done for him better.
Homeward travel was quiet. Though the surroundings was hazy, his mind raced with emotions. He no longer wanted an automobile.
What mattered now was bigger.
Charlie carefully entered the living room, his shoes making a faint sound on the wood floor.
Alice, his mother, sat on the couch with a book.
Though ignorant of her son’s inner turmoil, she smiled slightly and scanned the pages.
Charlie hesitated in the doorway, his chest swaying with breaths. His face showed fear and anguish, and his eyes were red and swollen from sobbing.
Alice looked up, her smile dimming, to see his countenance. She looked alarmed.
She put down the book and leaned forward, “Charlie! What’s wrong? Where were you?”
“Mom!” he gasped as he ran across the room. He hugged her hard.
“Sweetheart, tell me what’s going on,” she begged urgently. She softly rubbed his back to comfort him. “How can I help?”
Charlie recoiled as he cleaned his face with shaky hands.
“I know, Mom. I went to the storage unit,” he whispered.
Alice froze, eyes widening.
“What? Why? What were you doing there?” she questioned, sounding panicked.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Charlie sobbed again.
“Isn’t there anything we can do?”
Alice inhaled deeply, her lips twitching.
“There’s nothing, Charlie. I’m so sorry,” she said, crying.
“No, Mom, I’m sorry,” he snapped.
“I’ve been such a terrible son. I don’t need a car or any gifts. None of that matters. I just want you to be with me.”
“Charlie…” she whispered, emotional.
“Please, Mom,” he pleaded.
“I want to spend as much time with you as I can. I love you!”
Alice hugged him again, tears streaming.
Holding him closely, she replied, “I love you too, sweetheart,” her voice breaking.
The room was quiet save for their faint sobbing and their fragile but powerful embrace of love and understanding.