As Lila was ready to celebrate her 17th birthday, she received an unexpected and creepy gift from her stepmother: a pink funerary urn. Like the type you keep ashes in? Yes, that’s the one. But that’s not all! Lila learns that her college fund was given to Monica to open her salon. What will Lila do?
Let me tell you, I’ve been sitting on this one for a few days, just trying to make sense of what went down.
I always thought my stepmom, Monica, was the worst, though not Disney villain evil. She was the kind of person who talks over you, forgets your birthday, and calls you “kiddo” when you’re practically an adult.
A smiling teenage girl | Source: Midjourney
But, what she pulled on my 17th birthday? It shattered whatever shaky truce we had.
At least, that’s what I thought. Turns out, things weren’t exactly what they seemed.
Here’s how it all went down.
My mom, Sarah, died when I was ten, and after that, it was just Dad and me. We were a solid team. The type of team that has pizza for dinner half the week, late-night movies, and this unspoken agreement that we’d always have each other’s backs.
Two boxes of pizza on a coffee table | Source: Midjourney
Then came Monica, about three years ago.
At first, she wasn’t horrible; she was just… there. Like a stray cat that never leaves, so you have no choice but to adopt it. Monica moved into our house, took over the bathroom with her fifty bottles of face serums and creams, and slowly pushed her way into my dad’s world.
Monica had big dreams of opening a hair salon, which was fine. I wasn’t against people having dreams. I had my own dreams waiting for me, but she treated me like I was just this annoying piece of furniture that came with the house.
A woman’s vanity | Source: Midjourney
Honestly, I was counting down the days until I could escape to college.
Dad had promised me since middle school that there was a college fund waiting for me.
“Don’t worry, sweet girl,” he told me. “Your mom and I put together the fund when you were five. There’s more than enough, and every year on your birthday and Christmas, I add more.”
A smiling little girl | Source: Midjourney
“Thank you, Dad,” I said. “I just want to study and make something of myself, like Mom said.”
“You only have to worry about your grades, Lila,” he said. “I’ll handle the rest.”
Naturally, I worked my butt off in school, knowing that in a few years, I’d be out of here.
A smiling man | Source: Midjourney
College was my golden ticket, and no one — not even Monica — would stand in my way.
At least, that’s what I thought.
On the morning of my 17th birthday, I came downstairs expecting the usual lukewarm effort. By lukewarm, I mean a sad card, some pancakes, and Monica forgetting my favorite syrup. Dad was at work, so it was just Mon and I.
A plate of pancakes and a card on a table | Source: Midjourney
She handed me a gift bag, which was already weird because Monica wasn’t exactly the thoughtful or sentimental type.
“Happy Birthday, kiddo,” she said, flashing one of her tight-lipped smiles.
I wasn’t expecting much, but I sure as hell wasn’t expecting this.
I reached inside the bag and pulled out… an urn.
A shocked teenage girl | Source: Midjourney
A funerary urn.
You know, the kind that people store ashes in. Cold, heavy, and, well, pink. It was pink.
I just stared at it, my brain short-circuiting.
“What the hell is this?” I asked, holding the urn like it was cursed.
A pink funerary urn | Source: Midjourney
Monica leaned against the kitchen counter, smug as ever.
“It’s symbolic,” she said as if that explained anything.
“Symbolic of what?”
Monica’s grin widened.
A smiling woman in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
“It’s time to bury your dreams of college, kiddo. Your dad and I talked about this, and we decided to put the college fund to better use.”
“Better use?” I asked, a cold shiver running through me.
“Yep. We’re investing it in my hair salon. College is a gamble, Lila. A business? That’s something real, sweetie.”
A hair salon being renovated | Source: Midjourney
She sipped her coffee like she’d just said the most reasonable thing in the world.
I was frozen in place, trying to make sense of what I’d just heard. Had they really taken my future, everything I’d worked for, and sunk it into Monica’s salon dream?
“How could you do this?” I whispered.
Monica just smiled, a little too pleased with herself.
A shocked teenage girl | Source: Midjourney
“Life’s full of disappointments, kiddo. Better get used to it now,” she said.
Wow.
That was it. I was done. I ran upstairs, slamming the door behind me so hard that the walls shook.
I cried so hard it hurt. What else could I do? Everything I had been holding onto was gone, and the only person I thought I could count on, Dad, had let this happen.
An upset teenage girl | Source: Midjourney
My mom wanted me to get out and make something of myself. And now? It was all over.
The next few days were a blur. I didn’t speak to Monica or my dad unless I absolutely had to. Every time I looked at that stupid urn sitting on my desk, my stomach twisted.
I couldn’t even bring myself to throw it out. It felt like some kind of morbid evidence. Like proof of the betrayal I didn’t see coming.
A pink funerary urn on a desk | Source: Midjourney
At school, my friends tried to cheer me up.
“Maybe she thought it was funny, Lila,” my friend Kira said. “Like, who really knows what Monica is thinking?”
“And anyway, there’s nothing stopping you from throwing it out! Just do it! Don’t overthink it,” Mel said.
Three teenage girls | Source: Midjourney
But still, I couldn’t focus on anything other than the fact that Monica was prancing around, acting like she was the queen of the house, while I sat there with no future.
Then, a few days later, something strange happened.
When I got home from school, there was a note on my desk. Not in an envelope, just folded, with my name written in Monica’s messy handwriting.
A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
Meet me at the salon at 6 P.M. tonight. No questions. Just trust me. -M.
I almost laughed out loud. Trust her? Yeah, right.
But something about the note gnawed at me. Maybe it was the fact that I wanted to confront her one last time, tell her exactly what I thought of her.
Against my better judgment, I decided to go.
A note on a table | Source: Midjourney
When I got to the salon, the lights were off, and the front door was unlocked.
I hesitated for a second, wondering if this was some elaborate prank. But curiosity got the best of me.
I stepped inside, and there they were. Monica and my dad, standing side by side, both grinning widely.
“Surprise!” Monica shouted, throwing her arms up like this was the happiest moment of her life.
The entrance to a salon | Source: Midjourney
I just stared at them, completely lost.
“What is this?”
Monica stepped aside, and that’s when I saw it — a shiny, brand-new sign mounted on the wall.
Dream Cuts: A Scholarship Fund in Honor of Sarah
I blinked, feeling like the room was tilting on its axis.
A hair salon | Source: Midjourney
“What… what is this?”
Monica smiled, but it wasn’t her usual smug grin. This one was softer, almost real.
“We didn’t use your college fund, kiddo. It’s all still there. The salon? It’s not just for me. It’s for you, too. For other kids like you, too.”
I couldn’t breathe.
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
“But then, why would you make me think otherwise?” I asked.
Monica winced, putting her hand on her head.
“Yeah, so, the urn thing… That was not my best idea. I thought it’d be motivational, like, bury the past and embrace the future. You know? But it turns out that it was just creepy.”
A woman with her hand on her head | Source: Midjourney
I stared at her, speechless.
My dad stepped forward, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.
“We’ve been planning this for months, Lila,” he said. “Your mom always wanted to help kids get to college. This salon is going to fund scholarships. For you and for others in her name.”
“The salon has been my dream, Lila,” Monica said. “But it was never going to come at your expense. This way, a great portion of all our profits in the future will go to the fund.”
A smiling man | Source: Midjourney
I didn’t know what to say.
Or what to think.
Just that I felt a warm haze take over me.
Monica laughed softly.
“I’m not a monster, darling,” she said. “I just didn’t want you to think that I was trying to take over your mom’s role.”
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
For the first time in a long time, I smiled.
It wasn’t perfect, but things with Monica probably never would be. But, at that moment, standing in the middle of a salon named for my mom’s dream, I realized that she wasn’t trying to ruin my life.
She was trying to build something bigger than any of us.
A smiling teenage girl | Source: Midjourney
And somehow, against all odds, it felt like a new beginning.
And yeah, I kept the urn. But I planted white peace lilies in it, thinking it would be symbolic after all. And who knows, maybe I’ll take the urn to college.
What would you have done?
Peace lilies planted into a pink funerary urn | Source: Midjourney
If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |
I Transferred $24K to My Daughter for Her College Tuition, Only to Discover She Never Enrolled — What She Spent It On Made Me Pale
Caroline had been saving for her daughter’s college fund since Angela was born. But after a classmate of Angela’s reveals that Angela is not actually enrolled in college, Caroline must uncover what her daughter is doing and what she used the money for.
Children are always going to break your heart. This was something that I learned the hard way after trusting my daughter, Angela, completely.
A close-up of a smiling girl | Source: Midjourney
Since Angela was born, I have been saving for college. I needed to know that irrespective of what life threw my way, I would be able to educate my child.
“I think you can wait until she’s a little older,” my husband, Holden, said. “We can do it together.”
“You can add to her college fund later,” I said, looking at my baby girl. “But I’m going to start from next month. I wasn’t able to study, Holden. And it was because we didn’t have the opportunity to do so. Angela is going to get that opportunity.”
A smiling baby girl | Source: Midjourney
“Okay, Caroline,” my husband said. “You start it now, and I’ll add to it in a year. The house will be paid off, and I’ll be able to put that money into the fund.”
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
Velho vende mala surrada, todos o ignoram, exceto o menino coxo que concorda em comprá-la — História do dia
Um garoto vai ao mercado de pulgas para comprar fitas de música antigas, mas tem pena de um senhor idoso que está vendendo uma mala velha, e esse ato de gentileza muda sua vida.
A vida de Martin Farmer não era fácil e continha poucos prazeres. Ele tinha dezessete anos, mas já carregava um pesado fardo de responsabilidade. Sua mãe estava doente, e seu pai havia falecido dois anos antes, deixando-o como o homem da casa.
Pouco depois disso, um acidente de moto deixou Martin com ferimentos graves na perna esquerda, o que encerrou sua brilhante carreira no futebol, e ele estava contando com o futebol para pagar sua faculdade…
Apenas para fins ilustrativos. | Fonte: Unsplash
O dinheiro era curto, então Martin trabalhava depois da escola todos os dias e o dia todo aos sábados para sobreviver e ajudar a pagar os remédios da mãe. De vez em quando, ele tirava US$ 5 de suas economias e ia ao mercado de pulgas local para procurar fitas de música antigas dos anos 80 e 90.
Essas viagens mensais ao mercado de pulgas eram seu único prazer — seu único hobby. Naquele domingo, Martin estava se recuperando de uma semana particularmente difícil. Ele havia trabalhado duro, mas as contas médicas de sua mãe tinham chegado pelo correio.
O salário da semana não era suficiente para manter os lobos afastados para sempre, Martin sabia disso. Ele e a mãe tiveram uma discussão acalorada na noite de sábado. Ele queria largar a escola e trabalhar em tempo integral, mas a mãe discordou.
Esta manhã ele acordou cedo, fez o café da manhã para ela e então foi para o mercado de pulgas. Pelo menos por algumas horas, ele pararia de pensar em seus problemas.
Era uma manhã linda, então a feira estava cheia de pessoas vasculhando o lixo e os tesouros da vida de outras pessoas, e Martin foi até um vendedor em particular que ele conhecia bem.
Apenas para fins ilustrativos. | Fonte: Unsplash
Ele estava de pé ao lado da mesa do homem, examinando um tesouro de fitas antigas quando um velho chegou e montou uma pilha de bolsas e malas velhas na porta ao lado. O homem imediatamente começou a anunciar seus produtos:
“Malas, bolsas e pastas!” ele gritou com sua velha voz rachada. “Cinco dólares cada, a melhor pechincha da sua vida!”
Uma mulher que passava parou, olhou e cheirou. “Tralha velha é o que você tem! Tem tanto mofo nessa mala que ela provavelmente vai se desfazer!”
“Vá em frente, moça!” o velho se virou. “Ajude um velho! Estou limpando meus velhos tesouros e com certeza posso usar o dinheiro! As coisas estão difíceis…”
Outro homem passou e cutucou uma maleta com o pé. “Velho, eu não daria nem um dólar por esse pedaço de lixo! Você não vai vender nada!”
Milagres acontecem onde e quando menos esperamos.
O velho balançou a cabeça. “Você está errado. A pessoa certa vai aparecer porque isso aqui é uma mala cheia de esperança”, ele disse. “Porque parece uma mala para você, mas eu prometo a você, é um sonho se tornando realidade!”
Apenas para fins ilustrativos. | Fonte: Pexels
Martin sorriu. Ele se virou para o homem e disse: “Eu poderia usar muita esperança agora mesmo! Quanto custa o sonho se tornando realidade?”
“Jovem”, disse o velho sorrindo alegremente. “Esta maravilha aqui é 100% couro legítimo, feita na década de 1930, e pode ser sua por apenas $5!”
Sorrindo, Martin pescou no bolso sua única nota de $5 e entregou ao homem. “Aqui está”, ele disse.
O homem estava sorrindo enormemente, e ele agarrou a mão de Martin. “Você é um garoto gentil”, ele disse. “E você merece o que está recebendo!”
Martin riu, pegou a velha mala que era muito mais pesada do que ele imaginava e acenou um adeus pesaroso para o músico. “Da próxima vez!”, ele prometeu e foi para casa almoçar.
Apenas para fins ilustrativos. | Fonte: Pexels
Quando ele chegou em casa, sua mãe reclamou da mala imediatamente. “Martin! Você teve que comprar tralha? Já temos o suficiente disso! Coloque na garagem ou vai encher a casa de poeira!”
Martin obedientemente carregou a mala para a garagem. Ele estava prestes a colocá-la em cima de uma mesa velha quando mais uma vez percebeu o quão pesada ela era. Ele abriu a mala e ficou surpreso ao ver que ela estava cheia de pacotes embrulhados em jornal.
Curioso, ele rasgou o jornal e encontrou um maço de notas de $20! Rapidamente Martin desembrulhou os outros pacotes. Era tudo dinheiro! Milhares de dólares, centenas de milhares de dólares!
Martin gritou por sua mãe e ela veio correndo. Ela ficou sem palavras ao ver as pilhas de dinheiro. Ela não reclamou da poeira…
Apenas para fins ilustrativos. | Fonte: Pexels
Naquela noite, Martin e sua mãe contaram e recontaram o dinheiro. Havia $300.000! “Há o suficiente para as contas médicas e os medicamentos…” disse Martin.
“Ah, e para a faculdade”, disse a mãe de Martin. “E talvez então a gente pague a hipoteca…”
“Mas mãe”, Martin disse suavemente. “Não é nosso dinheiro. O homem me vendeu esta mala por cinco dólares e ele parecia muito pobre. Tenho certeza de que ele não sabia sobre o dinheiro.”
A Sra. Farmer cuidadosamente colocou todo o dinheiro de volta na mala velha. “Nesse caso, você tem que encontrá-lo, Martin”, ela disse. “E devolver tudo a ele.
Apenas para fins ilustrativos. | Fonte: Unsplash
Nas três semanas seguintes, Martin assombrou os mercados de rua e mercados de pulgas procurando pelo velho, mas ele não estava em lugar nenhum. Então, um dia, ele o viu em um ponto de ônibus, carregando outra mala velha.
“Espere!” Martin gritou. “Escute, você se lembra de mim? Você me vendeu uma mala velha? Eu tenho que devolvê-la para você!”
“Devolver?” perguntou o velho. “Eu não quero de volta!”
“Por favor, você não entende”, disse Martin. “A mala estava cheia de dinheiro, seu dinheiro!”
Apenas para fins ilustrativos. | Fonte: Pexels
O velho começou a rir. “Eu sei DISSO!” ele disse. “Você se lembra do que eu te disse? A mala estava cheia de esperança e sonhos se tornando realidade. É para isso que ela serve. Use-a bem.”
O velho se virou e começou a ir embora, mas Martin correu atrás dele. “Mas eu pensei que você fosse pobre!”
O homem sorriu. “Não, filho. Sou um homem que passou a vida inteira ganhando dinheiro e agora descubro que tenho mais do que qualquer um deveria ter. Então, dou para aqueles que são gentis o suficiente para ajudar os necessitados. E esse é você!”
Martin foi para casa e contou à mãe a história do velho. Eles decidiram usar o dinheiro para ajudá-la a melhorar e pagar a faculdade dele, e daquele dia em diante, eles incluíram o Suitcase Man em suas orações.
O que podemos aprender com essa história?
- Milagres são encontrados onde e quando menos esperamos. Martin e sua mãe estavam no fim da corda quando encontraram o dinheiro na mala.
- Atos de gentileza são sempre recompensados. Martin gastou seus preciosos $5 para ajudar um homem que ele achava que era mais pobre do que ele e recebeu um presente que fez seus sonhos se tornarem realidade.
Compartilhe esta história com seus amigos. Pode alegrar o dia deles e inspirá-los.
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