So, I sold it. The buyer, Ben, seemed like a good guy—enthusiastic about fixing up the place. We shook hands, and just like that, the house, along with its memories, was no longer mine.
A week later, I received a letter via courier. To my surprise, it was in my grandfather’s handwriting. The paper was yellowed with age, as if it had been sitting, waiting for the right moment to be delivered. My hands shook as I opened it. The message was simple but intriguing: “Check the basement of the house.”
Without wasting time, I called Ben. “Hey, it’s Alex. I need to come by the house—there’s something I need to check in the basement.”
Ben, a little puzzled but still friendly, replied, “Sure, come over. The basement’s just as you left it.”
When I arrived, I barely recognized the house. Ben had already started making improvements. The yard was cleared, and the house had a fresh coat of paint. He greeted me at the door, and we headed straight to the basement. It was still dimly lit and musty, filled with cobwebs and old furniture. Ben watched me search, amused but curious.
“You sure your grandfather wasn’t just messing with you?” he joked.
I was beginning to wonder the same thing. But then, I noticed a loose brick in the wall. Behind it was a small, dusty box containing old letters and a key. Ben peered over my shoulder. “What do you think that key unlocks?” he asked.
“I’m not sure,” I replied. But I had a feeling it was important. After thanking Ben, I took the box and key home, determined to figure out the mystery.
The next day, I returned to the house with a plan. As Ben opened the door, surprised to see me again, I made a bold offer. “Ben, I’d like to buy the house back.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Really? I thought you said it was a burden.”
Taking a deep breath, I explained. “At first, I thought selling was the right choice. But after receiving my grandfather’s letter, I’ve realized this house means more than I ever thought. It’s not just a building; it’s part of my family’s history, a legacy I need to preserve. I can’t let it go.”
Ben considered for a moment. “Well, I’ve already put in a lot of work. You’d have to offer more than what you sold it for.”
I knew this wouldn’t be easy. “How about five grand more?”
Ben shook his head. “Not enough. The market’s good, and I could sell it for a profit. How about twenty grand more?”
My heart sank. Twenty grand was a lot. But I couldn’t lose the house now. “Deal,” I said, though it hurt to agree.
Over the next week, I finalized the paperwork to buy the house back. During this time, I met Clara, a local historian with a passion for old homes. Over coffee, I shared the story of my grandfather’s house, and she was instantly intrigued.
“Your grandfather sounds incredible,” Clara said. “If you ever need help restoring the house or researching its history, I’d love to assist.”
I gratefully accepted her offer. Clara’s enthusiasm breathed new life into my project. Together, we spent hours sifting through old documents, photos, and memories, piecing together the story of the house and its significance.
Finally, with the house back in my name, I returned to the basement, key in hand. Moving aside an old wardrobe, I discovered a hidden door. The key fit perfectly. Behind the door was a small room, and in the center was a modest chest. My heart raced as I opened it, expecting treasure.
Instead, I found a letter in my grandfather’s familiar handwriting and an old poker chip.
The letter read: “I knew you would sell the house, you fool! I always taught you to honor your ancestors and remember your roots. Yet, you sold it off without a second thought. Let this be a lesson to you.”
At the bottom, in a playful tone, it said: “P.S. I put something in here, so here’s an old poker chip—worthless! Consider it a lucky charm.”
I sat there, the letter in hand, disappointed at first, but then understanding hit me. My grandfather, ever the trickster, had orchestrated this whole experience to teach me a valuable lesson. The house wasn’t just about property or money—it was about honoring the past and valuing what truly matters.
With a renewed sense of purpose, I decided to keep the house and turn it into a family retreat. What I once saw as a burden now felt like a treasure—a connection to my roots and a place where future memories would be made.
Over the months that followed, the house underwent a transformation. With Clara’s help, I restored it, blending its old charm with fresh beginnings. The house, once dilapidated, became a place of laughter and love—a symbol of family heritage.
As the final touches were added, Clara and I grew closer, spending more and more time together. The house wasn’t just a part of my past anymore—it had become a symbol of our future, a place filled with love, memories, and the lessons my grandfather had so cleverly imparted.
In the end, my grandfather had left me far more than a house. He’d left me a legacy, a lesson about family, roots, and the importance of holding on to the things that truly matter.
Son Is Ashamed of Poor Elderly Mom at Wedding until She Takes the Mic and Gives a Toast — Story of the Day
When Arnold sees his poor mother at his wedding, he becomes furious because he told her not to come. She hands him a gift and gives him a toast, and Arnold bursts into tears and drops to his knees the next minute.
“Ah, look, someone is leaving the café smiling. Just look at her blush!” Diana’s boss said as a wave of laughter rumbled across the eatery’s kitchen.
“We’ll be there, Miss Diana. What time is the wedding?” a co-worker asked as others flocked around Diana, who couldn’t stop blushing.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“It’s at 11 a.m. this Sunday. I’ll be looking forward to seeing all of you at the church.”
The 60-year-old was a cleaner at the café. She had taken half a day off to buy the best wedding suit for her only son, Arnold. Diana spent a long-time shopping for the blue suit. It was pretty expensive, but she wasn’t bothered. “My boy should look his best!” she thought.
Diana had spent all her savings on buying her son’s suit, and she couldn’t wait to see his reaction when she surprised him at home…
“I can’t wait to see him get married!” Diana thought. She had been impatiently waiting for this moment ever since Arnold told her about his plans to marry his girlfriend, Masha.
“Son, look what I got for you!” Diana burst into their home, suit in hand and a beaming smile on her face. “I’m sure you’ll love this! Can you please try it on? The seller assured me I could still exchange it if there’s something wrong with the fit.”
Arnold walked away to throw his mother’s gift he thought was ‘garbage,’ but he was interrupted by her voice on the mic.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
She took out the suit from the garment bag and showed it to Arnold, who frowned. He was not pleased.
“I’m not wearing such an ordinary suit for my wedding. I’m marrying a rich man’s daughter and should look my best. I would look tacky in that cheap suit.”
Diana’s eyes started to fill with tears. She pretended she was okay, but her son’s words silenced her. She was disappointed, and her heart felt heavy.
But nothing crushed her more than when Arnold told her: “One more thing…I don’t want you to come to my wedding. Everyone from my fiancée’s wealthy family will be attending. I don’t want you to be there in your dirty clothes and spoil my image. Everyone will ask me what you do, and I don’t want to have to tell them you’re just a cleaner.”
Diana could no longer hold back her tears. She hurried to her room and locked herself away. She cried the rest of the day because she was terribly hurt. Arnold was too busy to check on her and left to attend to the wedding preparations. The celebration was in two days.
It was Sunday—Arnold’s much-awaited big day. And despite her son’s prohibitions, Diana wouldn’t miss such a beautiful moment. She pulled herself together and checked her wardrobe, picking the prettiest dress she had, then she got ready.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
“You are too young to understand this mother’s wish and pain. I cannot afford to miss your big day, son. I’m coming,” she said aloud as she stared at herself in the mirror.
Diana packed an old ceramic vase she intended to give as a gift to her son. When she arrived at the church, she saw her colleagues and boss were already there. She was happy and, for a moment, forgot Arnold had asked her not to attend his wedding.
“Howdy, Miss Diana! I’m sure you are the happiest mother on earth!” her boss commented.
Diana smiled and walked in with the heavy gift box. She watched the bride and groom exchange wedding rings and then kiss. Even if she wanted to, Diana could not stop her tears from flowing. She was delighted. “I’ve done it!” she said.
Following the wedding, a lavish reception took place. Several wealthy guests flocked to the venue to greet the newlyweds. Arnold saw his mom approaching and was shocked. He raised his eyebrows in disgust. “Why has she come? I told her not to spoil my day!” he thought.
“Congrats, darling! You two look amazing! Best wishes!” said Diana, handing the gift to her son.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Flickr/claytron (CC BY-SA 2.0)
Arnold looked around and realized the moment was being photographed. He didn’t want to make a scene, so he shyly took the gift from his mother. He slightly tore open the box and saw the vase inside. “She gave me an old vase lying around in the house? How cheap?!” he groaned.
Arnold walked away to throw his mother’s gift he thought was ‘garbage,’ but he was interrupted by her voice on the mic. Arnold turned pale with shock. He had no idea that a twenty-five-year-old secret she’d been keeping from him would be unraveled that day.
“Twenty-five years ago, just minutes before my best friend died….” began Diana, who quickly looked up at the ceiling as tears started to gather in her eyes.
“She gave me an old vase and told me to give it to her son the day he gets married. It was a gift from her late parents, and she wanted her son to have it.”
Arnold did not understand what his mother was saying.
“After she died, I adopted her little son and raised him as my own. I never married anyone because I wanted to devote my time and love only to my child. Son, it’s time to check out what your late mother left you in that vase. Cheers!” Diana lifted a glass for a toast as a shocked Arnold inspected the vase.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pixabay
He was flabbergasted. Inside the old ceramic vase were wads of cash. Tears gushed from his eyes as he dropped to his knees.
Arnold realized the woman he was ashamed of was not his birth mother but the one who sacrificed her whole life to raise him. She was more than a mother to him. She was his savior and guardian angel who saved him after he was orphaned.
“I’ve kept my promise to my late friend. I’m happy for you, son. Take care, and God bless you!” Diana finished. She walked toward the entrance to leave, but Arnold couldn’t let her go like that. He raced after her and blocked her way.
“Mom, I’m sorry. Your love for me is priceless. I’m sorry for hurting you. I was never a good son, but you were always a good mother to me. Why didn’t you tell me I was an orphan? Please don’t leave me. I don’t want to become an orphan again.”
Diana hugged Arnold, and they returned to the stage, where the groom danced with his mother.
“I love you, mom!” he whispered, and Diana smiled, tears of joy gushing from her eyes.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
What can we learn from this story?
A mother will do anything for her child, even look past his faults to see him happy. Though her son forbade her from attending his wedding out of shame, Diana chose to ignore that because she wanted to witness her son’s big day and his happiness.
No amount of money can measure up to the love a mother has for her child. When Arnold learned Diana had raised him and given him a better life after his birth mother’s death, he regretted uninviting her to his wedding. No amount of wealth could measure up to Diana’s love for him.
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