For Nancy, her son Henry was everything; she could not imagine life without him. It had been 23 years since the terrible accident that took Henry’s life. Every year on that day, she brought his favorite pie to his grave to remember him. But this year, something was about to change.
For 23 years, Nancy, now 61, had never missed a single year on this date. She baked her late son’s favorite pie and took it to his grave each year since he passed away.
The pie, a simple but delicious apple and cinnamon treat, had been Henry’s favorite since he was a child.
The smell of apples and cinnamon reminded her of when Henry was young, running into the kitchen with his eyes shining at the sight of the pie.
On this day, just like every year before, Nancy carefully carried the freshly baked pie to the graveyard.
The dish felt heavier as she walked toward Henry’s resting place. The grave was neat and covered in flowers, showing how much he was still loved.
The stone had become smoother over the years because she often ran her fingers over it, lost in her memories.
Nancy knelt and placed the pie gently on the gravestone. Her heart ached as she began to speak, her voice quiet, as if Henry might somehow hear her.
“Henry, I hope you’re at peace, my love. I miss you every day. I baked your favorite pie again. Remember how we used to bake it together? You always snuck a taste before it was done.”
She smiled, but her eyes were misty with tears. “I wish we could do that one more time.”
The familiar sorrow welled up inside her, but Nancy had learned over the years to push through the tears.
She quickly wiped her eyes and managed a small smile. After a few more moments of silence, she kissed her fingers and touched the top of the gravestone as she said her quiet goodbye.
Then, with a heavy but comforted heart, she turned and walked away, knowing she would be back next year, just like always.
The next day, as part of her routine, Nancy returned to Henry’s grave to clean up the remains of the pie.
Usually, by the time she returned, the pie was either untouched or spoiled by the weather, a quiet reminder of her son’s absence.
She found it bittersweet, knowing the pie stayed where she left it, as if waiting for him.
But today, as she approached the grave, something felt different. Nancy’s heart skipped a beat when she saw the plate was clean—completely empty. For a moment, she stood frozen in disbelief.
Then, she noticed something else. Resting on the plate was a small piece of paper, folded in half.
Nancy’s hands trembled as she picked up the note. Her breath caught in her throat as she unfolded it.
The handwriting was shaky, as though the writer had struggled to form the letters. The simple words read: “Thank you.”
Her heart pounded with confusion and anger.
“Who took Henry’s pie?” she muttered under her breath, clutching the note tightly. “This was for my son. No one had the right to touch it!”
Her private ritual, her way of honoring and remembering her son, had been disturbed by a stranger.
She felt violated, as if someone had stolen a piece of her grief.
With her emotions swirling—part outrage, part confusion—Nancy left the cemetery, determined to find the person who had taken her son’s pie. She needed to know who had done this and why.
Determined to catch the culprit, Nancy decided to take action. She couldn’t let someone continue to disrupt how she honored Henry. So, she made a plan.
That night, she baked another of Henry’s favorite pies, the same apple and cinnamon recipe she had been making for over twenty years.
The next morning, with renewed resolve, she placed the freshly baked pie on Henry’s grave, just like before, but this time she wasn’t leaving.
She found a large oak tree nearby and hid behind it, close enough to see the grave but far enough to not be noticed.
The warm aroma of the pie drifted through the air, filling the quiet cemetery.
Time passed slowly as Nancy watched and waited, her heart racing in anticipation.
An hour later, she spotted movement. A small figure cautiously approached the grave. Nancy squinted, leaning forward to get a better look.
It wasn’t the greedy thief she had imagined. No, this was something entirely different.
A young boy, no older than 9, with ragged clothes and dirt smudged on his face, moved toward the pie with careful steps.
Nancy’s heart tightened as she watched him. The boy didn’t immediately take the pie.
Instead, he knelt by the grave and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small scrap of paper and a dull pencil. His hand trembled as he carefully scribbled something on the paper, his brow furrowed with concentration.
It was clear the boy struggled with writing, but he took his time, making sure each word was clear.
Nancy’s heart softened as she saw him write “Thank you” on the paper, just like before. He wasn’t a thief; he was just a hungry child, grateful for the kindness of a pie left behind.
The anger that had once consumed Nancy melted away in an instant. She realized this boy wasn’t stealing; he was surviving. He was in need, and her son’s favorite pie had brought him comfort.
As the boy began to pick up the pie, his small hands shaking, Nancy stepped out from her hiding spot.
The rustle of leaves under her feet made him freeze, wide-eyed. Startled, he dropped the pie, and it tumbled onto the grass. His face paled, and he backed away, looking terrified.
“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry!” the boy cried, his voice trembling with panic. “I was just so hungry, and the pie was so good. Please don’t be mad.”
Nancy’s heart softened instantly. The sight of him—thin, dirty, and scared—erased any anger she had felt before.
She knelt beside him, speaking gently, her voice as comforting as she could make it. “It’s alright, sweetheart. I’m not mad at you. Where are your parents?” she asked. The boy stayed silent and shook his head. “What’s your name?” Nancy asked, understanding that the boy had nowhere to go.
“Jimmy,” he muttered, still avoiding her eyes, ashamed of what he had done.
“Well, Jimmy,” Nancy smiled softly, trying to reassure him, “it’s okay. You don’t have to steal pies. If you’re hungry, all you had to do was ask.”
Jimmy looked up at her, his lips quivering as he tried to speak. “I didn’t mean to steal,” he said, his voice small and shaky. “I just… I don’t get to eat much, and that pie was the best thing I’ve ever had.”
Nancy’s heart ached for him, and her mind filled with thoughts of how different this boy’s life must be.
The hunger in his eyes reminded her of her own son, Henry, when he eagerly waited for that first bite of her freshly baked pie.
But Henry never had to worry about where his next meal would come from. Jimmy, on the other hand, looked like he had been living with hunger for a long time.
“Come with me,” Nancy said after a moment of thought. She stood up and reached out her hand to him. “I’ll bake you a fresh pie, just for you.”
Jimmy’s eyes widened in disbelief, as if he couldn’t trust his own ears. “Really?” he asked, his voice filled with a mix of hope and doubt.
Nancy nodded, her heart filled with a strange but comforting warmth. “Yes, really. You don’t have to be afraid.”
Slowly, Jimmy reached out and took Nancy’s hand.
She led him back to her home, the boy walking beside her in silence, his eyes darting around as if he wasn’t sure if this was all real. Nancy’s heart swelled with the thought of what she was about to do.
Baking had always been her way of showing love, and now, after years of baking for a son she could no longer see, she was about to bake for someone who truly needed it.
When they reached her cozy kitchen, Nancy set to work, rolling out the dough, slicing the apples, and adding just the right amount of cinnamon—just as she had done many times before.
Jimmy watched her quietly from the corner of the kitchen, his eyes wide as he followed every move she made.
The smell of the pie began to fill the room, warm and comforting, like a hug from a long-lost friend.
Once the pie was baked, Nancy placed it in front of Jimmy. “Here you go, sweetheart,” she said softly.
“This one’s all for you.”
Jimmy hesitated for a moment, as if he couldn’t believe what was happening. But then he grabbed a slice and took a bite. His face lit up with joy, and his eyes sparkled as he chewed.
“This is the best pie I’ve ever had,” he said, his mouth still full. He ate with such happiness that it brought tears to Nancy’s eyes.
She watched him in silence, thinking about how something as simple as a pie could bring so much comfort to someone.
As Jimmy devoured the warm slices with obvious delight, Nancy couldn’t help but think of Henry.
She had always dreamed of seeing her son eat his favorite pie again, watching him enjoy it the way he used to when he was a child.
But now, in some strange and unexpected way, she was sharing it with another boy who needed it just as much.
Watching Jimmy eat, Nancy felt a deep sense of peace wash over her. Perhaps this was how it was meant to be.
Maybe fate had brought Jimmy into her life for a reason. By feeding him, by offering kindness when he needed it most, she was honoring Henry’s memory in a way she had never imagined.
For the first time in years, Nancy felt that her grief had led her to something beautiful—a connection, a purpose that gave new meaning to her life.
Maybe, just maybe, this was Henry’s way of sending her a message—that love and kindness should always find their way back to those in need.
Nancy smiled as she watched Jimmy finish the last slice of pie, her heart full of warmth and gratitude.
She had found an unexpected connection in the most unlikely place, and it filled her soul in a way that nothing else had in years.
Linda received her grandmother’s antique clocks while her covetous brother inherited the house, only to find out her share was worth nearly $200K
A greedy brother inherits a house and mocks his younger sister, who only gets five rusty old clocks from their late grandmother. Little did they know about what was hidden in those timepieces.
“Oh, so grandma called you as well?! I thought you’d be busy in the library…like a good little bookworm!” 26-year-old Brian scoffed at his younger sister Linda, 19.
She had just stepped down from the taxi. Fear filled her eyes as her heart told her: “Nothing will happen to grandma. She’ll be fine. She’ll live for a hundred years more.”
Brian and Linda had come to visit their 90-year-old granny Marlene. She had requested them to see her urgently.
“Sweethearts, I wish to see you one last time. I might not get another chance again,” Marlene had painfully told them on the call two days ago…
As Linda entered her grandma’s bedroom, she coughed, noticing that it was pretty dusty. Marlene was too old and sick to do things on her own. She hadn’t swept the floor, and Linda saw the ceiling was moldy due to leakage.
Linda opened the clock, and what she found inside would go on to change her life.
“Grandma!!” she ran and hugged Marlene, who was in bed. “Nothing will happen to you, grandma. Please don’t worry. God will not take you away from us because you are all that we have.”
Until a year ago, Linda lived with Marlene. She took good care of her and helped her a lot. She was even ready to turn down a life-changing scholarship but moved to the city to pursue her degree upon Marlene’s insistence.
Brian entered the room, coughing and grinning. “Damn…I’m allergic to dust! Grandma, didn’t you sweep and dust your room?”
He came closer and saw his grandma was sick and skinny. But he was least bothered and stood there, waiting to know why she had called them.
Marlene stared into Brian’s eyes as she clasped Linda’s shivering hands. The girl was pained to see her grandma so pale and her eyes lacking that once beautiful spark. They looked lifeless.
Marlene smiled, getting up gently, and took two envelopes from under her pillow. “Sweethearts, this is for you,” she said. “Please use it wisely. I called to give it to you.”
Brian and Linda opened the envelopes and found a wad of $5,000 in each.
Linda could not hold back her tears and ran out crying.
Meanwhile, Brian frowned. “Only this much? I thought you had more to spare. Fine, I have to go now.” He turned his back on Marlene and walked away without even thanking her.
The next day, Marlene was in for a surprise.
“Good morning, grandma!” Marlene heard Linda in her bedroom. She didn’t expect her to return.
She awakened as the girl undrew the curtains, shafts of beams lighting up the dark, dusty bedroom.
She was surprised to see Linda. She had thought the girl had left for the city where she studied and was a part-time librarian.
Linda walked over to Marlene with the envelope she had given her the previous day.
“I added the $4,000 I’d saved over the year. Grandma, remember you told me about your poor vision? I now have $9,000. We can now pay for your eye surgery.”
Marlene rose from her bed. She hugged Linda, tears streaking her face. “I knew you better, darling! But it’s too late for the surgery. I can sense my death nearing. I don’t want to waste this money when it can be used for something better.”
Linda wiped away Marlene’s tears and said she would live with her.
“I’ve taken a month off. I’m not going anywhere until I see that golden smile on your face, grandma.”
And Linda knew what she had to do to restore Marlene’s smile.
Having Linda around was of great help to Marlene. She didn’t have to worry about cooking for herself.
There were days when Marlene would eat stale bread for dinner when she never felt like making herself a nice meal. But after Linda came, she started feeling on her feet again. Marlene had never felt so relaxed and happy before.
One day, she heard strangers’ voices outside her bedroom and went out to check. She was surprised. Linda had spent the $9,000 on renovating the house and fixing the leakage.
“I knew you wanted to repair grandpa’s treasured house for a long time. Are you happy now, grandma?! I renovated it so that you see the beautiful house you once lived in with grandpa. Do you like it?”
Marlene was speechless. She walked to Linda as fast as her fragile legs could carry her and hugged her. Marlene had never cried like she wept on Linda’s shoulders that day.
Marlene often made a wish. “I want to die when I’m the happiest on earth!” A week later, her wish was fulfilled. Marlene died in her sleep, leaving Linda with more than a broken heart.
A couple of days after the funeral, Linda and Brian were called to the lawyer’s office regarding the late Marlene’s will they never knew about.
When they got there, they were told about another surprise inheritance.
“Mr. White, according to your grandma’s will, you’ll be getting her house. Here are the papers. Please sign them.”
Linda was startled. She was not jealous of her older brother, but it worried her because she had renovated the house, and Brian got it when he least deserved it.
“And Miss Linda, this is yours,” the lawyer said, pushing forward a box toward Linda.
“What is this?” she exclaimed and opened the box. She found five old vintage clocks inside. Brian burst into laughter and began mocking her.
“That’s hella insane and cheap!! Grandma left her house to me. She knew who deserved the best. You can decorate your rented apartment with these rusty clocks and cry over it, sis. Luck does not favor everyone!”
Distraught, Linda left for the city, taking the clocks with her. She never bothered to check them thoroughly until one day when she noticed an engraving on one of them.
“OPEN IT!” was etched in a beautiful cursive font on the metal.
Curious, Linda opened the clock, and what she found inside would go on to change her life.
“A note?” she exclaimed and picked a little scroll from the clock’s interior. She unfolded it and sat back, stunned.
“Never underestimate these rusty, old watches! They are 100-year-old classic timepieces that belonged to my grandfather. And they are crafted from rare, exquisite metal! Each piece is worth $40,000, my dear!” began the note.
Linda’s eyes filled with tears of joy as she read further.
“Everyone gets what they truly deserve, Linda! I’m glad you got only the best. With Love, Granny Marlene.”
Linda burst into tears as she held the vintage clocks close to her heart. They still functioned, and she could hear them tick close to her heartbeat. It felt as though her granny had not gone anywhere.
Linda chose not to disclose this to her brother.
“He is blinded by greed and thinks he got the best from grandma. Let him live with that assumption. Granny knew who deserved the best and I needn’t prove it to him!” she thought and kept the rare timepieces locked in her drawer.
What can we learn from the story?
Everyone gets what they truly deserve. Brian mocked Linda when she inherited only five old clocks from their grandmother. Little did he know that she had actually gotten what she truly deserved because each piece was worth over $40,000.
Love and accept your elders for who they are. You will be loved back a hundredfold. Linda loved her grandma unconditionally and cared for her without expecting anything in return. Ultimately, she inherited a surprise $200K worth of legacy after her granny’s death.
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