A poor old lonely woman named Emma started receiving deliveries every day from an unknown source. She and her late husband never had children together, so she could not tell where these deliveries came from.
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When Emma Richards’ husband died seven years ago, she was devastated. She now had to live out the rest of her life alone, taking care of herself as she had no one else to do it for her.
She and her husband John didn’t have any children that could look after her. Every time Emma was asked why, she always just shrugged and avoided answering.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
One day, while Emma was sitting in her bedroom watching TV, somebody rang the doorbell. She wasn’t expecting any visitors, so she decided to go check who it was.
As she opened the front door, a delivery man in his 40s stood there with several boxes. He was wearing a mask, so she could not see his face clearly.
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“Hello. I am not expecting a package from anybody. May I know who this is from?” Emma asked him.
“I’m sorry ma’am, but these packages were sent anonymously. Rest assured, our security checked them and they are absolutely safe. These are for you,” he said, placing the boxes on Emma’s table by the door.
“That’s strange… thank you, sweet boy,” Emma replied before shutting the door.
When the delivery man left, Emma opened the boxes quickly as she was curious about what was inside. In the first box, there were small household appliances like a new oven toaster, sandwich press, and coffee maker.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“Who would give me all of these?” she said to herself. She proceeded to open the second box, and there were beautiful clothes inside, as well as groceries.
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Every day, Emma started to receive more packages. It’d always be the same delivery man handing them over, so she decided to get to know him.
“What is your name, sweet boy?” she asked.
“My name is Ted Harrison,” the delivery man smiled. “Mrs. Richards, the sender requested for us to give you this. I’ll wait until you finish answering it,” he added, handing her an envelope.
Curious, Emma opened it and read it quickly. It said: Mrs. Richards, please let me know what you need for yourself, and I will grant them.
“Oh, I am dying to know who has been giving me all of these! Now that person even wants me to make requests!” she exclaimed.
“I’m sure the sender loves you very dearly, even though you don’t know who it is,” the delivery man smiled.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
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Emma obliged and wrote what she needed. She didn’t want the person to spend a lot for her, so she only wrote down necessities.
Since that short and sweet encounter, Emma began to prepare quick snacks for Ted the delivery man. For an entire month, he went to her house, handing her parcels that had clothes, food, books, and other novelty items.
At one point, Emma started to get used to Ted’s company. He would spend time with her by eating snacks together and volunteering to do some housework that she couldn’t do herself.
However, one day, Ted didn’t come. Suddenly concerned, Emma decided to head over to the local post office to find him.
“Hello, can you please page Ted Harrison? I just have some donuts I wanted to give him,” she asked the young woman at the reception table. The young woman looked confused.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. There’s nobody named Ted Harrison who works here,” she replied.
“Oh… but he has been delivering my packages every day. That’s strange,” Emma said, suddenly disappointed. She did not know where to find Ted, and it upset her.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
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She walked back home with so many thoughts suddenly going through her head. Who could this kind Samaritan be? Did I go to the wrong post office? Was Ted just pretending to be a delivery man?
As she got to her front porch, she was surprised to see a tiny box in front of the door. There, she saw a key and a note that read:
I learned the truth just a month ago when I decided to hire a private investigator to find out where I came from. I know you blame yourself and regret what you did. However, I want you to know that I don’t blame you and that I know you only had my best interest at heart.
You and your husband could not feed me, so you gave me up for adoption. I ended up in a wealthy family that treated me like their own, but something always felt lacking. I realized that was you, mom.
You’re lacking in my life, and I would love to spend more time with you. If you’d be willing, I recently bought a new house. I had a key duplicated for you in case you wanted to move in with me. Please, allow me to take care of you. With love, your delivery man, Ted.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
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Emma was shaking by the time she finished reading the message. She had always longed to see her son before she died, and she couldn’t believe that it was him who found her. And that son turned out to be Ted! She couldn’t help but cry, all the guilt from her past catching up with her once again.
It was true what Ted found out about their past. Emma and John were on the verge of bankruptcy when they found out she was pregnant. They knew they wouldn’t be able to raise Ted in a good environment, so they put him up for adoption.
They left their son at an orphanage when he was only months old. With his belongings, Emma left a letter that explained why they could not raise him. The letter was anonymous, but after convincing the orphanage directors to disclose the contents of his adoption papers, Ted found Emma’s name.
Emma wanted to see Ted immediately. She prepared to leave her house to meet him, but someone knocked on the door. When she opened it, she saw Ted.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
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“Hi, mom,” Ted said softly.
Emma started to cry. “I can’t believe it. My son,” she started sobbing. She pulled him in for a hug and refused to let go. “I am so sorry, sweetheart. I truly am. I wish you can forgive me,” Emma continued to cry.
“You don’t need to apologize, mom. I’m here because I want to spend more time with you. It’s not too late to start over. We can still be a family,” Ted said before breaking their long hug.
That night, Ted and Emma spent time together by packing her belongings in boxes. A truck was waiting outside, where they loaded her things so they could transfer them to Ted’s house.
There, Emma was surprised to see Ted’s wife and children. They were just as excited as Ted to welcome her into their home, and since then, Emma never had to be alone again.
What can we learn from this story?
- The past doesn’t have to define the future. Emma thought she’d never get to spend time with her son ever again until her son decided to search for the truths of his life that led him to find his biological mom. They ended up moving in together and starting anew.
- Forgiveness can be a beautiful thing. Instead of holding a grudge against his biological parents, Ted chose to forgive them. He even decided to introduce himself to his mom so as to build a relationship with her.
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I Chose an Old Photo Album Instead of $10,000 My Grandpa Left as His Inheritance — Its Secret Changed My Life
When my parents and grandmother died in a car accident, Grandpa stepped in to raise us, binding our shattered family with love and wisdom. Little did I know, years later, his will would present a choice that would test our bonds and reveal a hidden secret, changing everything.
The day my parents and grandmother died in a car accident was the worst day of my life. Jacob, Megan, Luke, Beth, and I were left in the care of Grandpa. He stepped up without hesitation, his quiet strength holding us together.
“I won’t let you kids go through this alone,” he said, hugging us all. “We’re family, and we’ll get through this.”
An old man facing the camera | Source: Pexels
Grandpa became everything to us. He was our rock, our guide. But it was in the library that he and I truly bonded.
The others were busy with their lives: Jacob with his business schemes, Megan with her career, Luke with his carefree lifestyle, and Beth following Megan like a shadow.
“Grandpa, why do you love these old books so much?” I asked one evening as we restored a tattered volume.
A private library | Source: Pexels
“Books are like people, Lindsey,” he replied, his eyes twinkling. “They carry stories and wisdom. They deserve care and respect.”
We spent hours in that library, losing ourselves in stories and memories. The smell of old paper and ink became a part of me, just like Grandpa’s gentle wisdom.
Years passed, and our family dynamics shifted. Jacob became more materialistic, always talking about investments and profits. Megan climbed the corporate ladder, hardly looking back. Luke drifted through life, and Beth clung to Megan’s coat-tails. But Grandpa and I remained close, our bond growing stronger.
An old man paging through a book | Source: Pexels
One evening, as we finished a particularly old book, Grandpa sighed. “You’re different from your siblings, Lindsey. You value what’s truly important.”
His words stayed with me, a quiet affirmation of our shared values. While the others pursued wealth and status, I found contentment in simpler things, especially the time with Grandpa.
Then, one fateful night, everything changed. Grandpa’s health declined rapidly, and we knew the end was near. My siblings came over, but their visits were perfunctory, more out of duty than love.
A sick-looking man sits on a bed | Source: Pexels
“Just make sure the will is in order,” Jacob muttered to Megan, not realizing I could hear.
I spent those final days by Grandpa’s side, holding his hand, whispering stories, and reading to him from our favorite books. His passing was peaceful, but the void he left felt insurmountable.
At the reading of the will, we were all tense. Grandpa had left each of us a choice: $10,000 or a photo album filled with family memories. My siblings scoffed at the album.
Mourners at a funeral service | Source: Pexels
“Lindsey, you’re not seriously considering that, are you?” Jacob sneered. “It’s just sentimental junk.”
But I knew better. I chose the album, feeling a deep connection to Grandpa’s legacy. My siblings chose the money, their eyes gleaming with greed.
“You always were the sentimental one,” Megan said, rolling her eyes.
I ignored their taunts, holding the album close. It felt like a piece of Grandpa, something real and lasting. Little did I know, it held more than memories; it held a secret that would change everything.
A woman leafing through a photo album | Source: Pexels
“You’re crazy, Lindsey,” Luke said. “Ten grand could set you up for a while.”
“It’s not about the money,” I replied, opening the album. “It’s about what it represents.”
The siblings laughed, shaking their heads. But as I turned the pages, I felt a strange comfort. The photos brought back floods of memories, moments of joy, love, and Grandpa’s wisdom. Then, tucked behind a photo of Grandpa and me in the library, I found a letter and a check for $100,000.
A hand-written letter | Source: Pexels
“Oh my word,” I whispered, my hands trembling. The letter, written in Grandpa’s neat script, read:
My Dearest Lindsey,
If you are reading this, it means you chose the photo album, just as I knew you would. This album holds the memories of our precious time together, the moments we shared that were more valuable to me than anything else in this world.
You have always been the light in my life, especially in my final days when you cared for me with such love and devotion. Your kindness and strength have been a source of immense pride for me. I wanted to give you something that would remind you of the bond we shared, something that would carry forward our legacy.
A woman reading a letter | Source: Pexels
Enclosed with this letter is a check for $100,000. This is my final gift to you, to help you continue your journey and pursue your dreams. Use it wisely, and remember that I will always be with you in spirit, guiding you and cheering you on.
Thank you for being my rock, for understanding the true value of our memories, and for choosing love over material wealth. You are, and always will be, my precious granddaughter.
With all my love,
Grandfather
A woman holds a letter to her chest | Source: Pexels
Tears streamed down my face. He had known. He had always known. I felt a surge of love and gratitude, mixed with a sense of vindication. My siblings, who had mocked me, were oblivious to this final gift of Grandpa’s love.
“What are you crying about?” Beth asked, peering over my shoulder.
I quickly folded the letter and slipped it into my pocket. “Nothing. Just memories.”
A group meeting | Source: Pexels
As the days passed, I pondered what to do with the money. Grandpa had always taught us the value of giving back. Inspired, I decided to start a foundation in his name, dedicated to helping educate children who had lost their parents, just like we had.
When I told my siblings about my plan, they were shocked.
“Why would you do that?” Jacob asked, incredulous. “You could invest it, make more money.”
A woman and two men consult across a desk | Source: Pexels
“Because it’s what Grandpa would have wanted,” I replied firmly. “It’s about honoring his legacy.”
They didn’t understand, but it didn’t matter. I knew in my heart that this was the right thing to do. As I worked on setting up the foundation, I felt Grandpa’s presence guiding me, his love and wisdom still with me.
Meanwhile, my siblings faced their own struggles. Jacob’s investments went sour, Megan’s career hit a snag, Luke’s carefree lifestyle caught up with him, and Beth, without Megan to follow, felt lost. Their pursuit of material wealth had led them to empty successes.
A man holds his head despondently | Source: Pexels
In a twist of fate, they came to me for help. Their pride had been humbled, and they saw the value in what I was doing. I agreed to help, but with a condition: they had to contribute to the foundation.
“This is about more than just money,” I said. “It’s about family, about giving back. It’s what Grandpa wanted.”
Reluctantly, they agreed. Through working together, they began to see the true value of love, compassion, and family.
The foundation flourished, helping countless children and bringing new meaning to my life. Every time I saw a child’s face light up with hope, I felt Grandpa’s presence.
A child reading a book | Source: Pexels
As the months passed, our family began to heal. We worked together, not just for the foundation but to rebuild our fractured relationships. The siblings who once mocked my choices now respected them, seeing the wisdom in Grandpa’s teachings.
One sunny afternoon, I visited Grandpa’s grave. The cemetery was quiet, the air filled with the scent of blooming flowers. I knelt by his tombstone, tracing the letters of his name.
“Hi, Grandpa,” I whispered. “I hope you’re proud of us. We’re trying our best to live by your values.”
A group of children bonding in an exercise | Source: Pexels
I felt a gentle breeze, almost as if he were responding. I smiled, knowing that his spirit would always be with me, guiding me.
As I stood up, I looked around the cemetery, feeling a sense of peace and fulfillment. The foundation was thriving, my siblings were learning the true value of love and family, and I had found my purpose.
And in that moment, I knew that true wealth wasn’t in money or material possessions, but in the connections we cherish and the values we uphold. Grandpa had taught me that, and it was a lesson I would carry with me forever.
A woman visiting a gravesite | Source: Pexels
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