My husband and I bought our granddaughter a wedding gift from her registry. She reached out and accused us of being cheap after getting the wedding present. Now, she is upset and threatens to cut us off because we didn’t give her the cash gift that we presented to each of our grandkids a day before their wedding.
An elderly couple | Source: Getty Images
I’m in my 70s, a proud grandmother to five amazing grandkids: three women and two men. I adore my grandkids and often show up for them emotionally and financially. Whenever they have celebrations or hard times, they know that they can count on me.
Grandparents with their grown grandkids | Source; Getty Images
The youngest of grandkids, Eloise, got married last October. My husband, who is also in his 70s, and I have a tradition for our grandkids. We buy a small gift from the wedding registry, usually the cheapest item, and then, the day before the wedding, we give them a check for $40,000.
We hope they’ll use it for a house, but it’s ultimately their choice. We also ask them to keep it a secret, considering our large family. Until now, everyone has respected this request.
Happy young woman opening a gift | Source: Getty Images
This time, we sent an air fryer to our youngest granddaughter, the cheapest thing on her registry. Eloise called us, livid, accusing us of being cheap. I remember picking up her call and she didn’t even say hi, she just started ranting, “Seriously, Grandma? I just got your gift. An air fryer? That’s the cheapest thing you could find on my registry!”
Woman rejecting a gift | Source: Getty Images
I was taken aback because as much as the air fryer was the cheapest on their registry, I still thought it’d be useful to them, so I told her that. Eloise kept on complaining, “Useful? Come on, you know you can do better than that. Everyone knows you have the money. I just can’t believe you’d be this cheap with me. It’s embarrassing.”
An air fryer | Source: Getty Images
In this heated moment, I told her, “Yes, you’re right. We are cheap, old, and useless. The only thing you DIDN’T know is that the day before the wedding, we were going to gift you a check for $40,000.”
Woman disappointed by a gift | Source: Getty Images
I revealed this in an attempt to explain to Eloise about the cash gift we usually give our grandkids before the wedding but she was so angry at this point, that she wasn’t listening to a thing I said. I speculated that maybe she didn’t believe we would gift her such an amount of money after only buying her an air fryer.
Eventually, she said, “No, it’s clear. You just don’t love me enough to show it. You know how much pressure I’m under with the wedding. And then, this? It’s like you don’t even care,” then she hung up.
Disappointed elderly couple | Source: Getty Images
Despite my husband and I’s shock at Eloise’s reaction, we then bought her a China set, hoping to appease her, but decided against giving her the $40,000, feeling she hadn’t earned it.
Fast forward to last week. Eloise talked to her brother and found out that we were telling her the truth about the money. After confirming it with her cousins, she, called again, accusing us of discrimination, “I just found out that it’s true you gave the money to everyone else when they got married. Why didn’t I get anything?”
A cash gift | source: Getty Images
We stood firm, explaining our stance was due to her initial reaction, “We felt after your reaction to the wedding gift, it wasn’t right to go ahead and gift you the money.” Eloise pleaded trying to convince us otherwise, “So, you’re punishing me? Is that it? Because I was upset about an air fryer?”
Woman throwing tantrums | Source: Getty Images
I was angry that she didn’t even understand what she did wrong. “It wasn’t about the air fryer, Eloise. It was how you spoke to us, the disrespect. That’s not something we expected or can support,” I explained.
Bewildered elderly woman on phone | Source: Getty Images
Eloise implored us, nearly in tears, “But that’s so unfair! I was stressed, Grandma. Planning a wedding is hard, and I just snapped. I didn’t mean any of it.” I felt like she should have only apologized to us instead of finding excuses to justify her behavior.
However, I told her, “We understand that it’s a stressful time, but actions and words have consequences. We hoped you’d understand the value of family and love over material things.” Full of desperation, Eloise added, “But you don’t understand! Can’t we just forget all this happened? I need that money, Grandma.”
Young woman holding back tears on phone | Source: Getty Images
She pleaded, threatened to boycott Christmas, and accused us of cutting her off but we didn’t budge. In the end, I expressed, “We love you very much. This has nothing to do with cutting you off. We just hope you’ll reflect on this and understand why we made our decision.”
Woman showing threatening finger | Source: Getty Images
Now, Eloise has followed up on her threat and she’s boycotting Christmas. Her mother, who is our daughter-in-law, is siding with her, calling us unreasonable. However, we feel that after all we have done for Eloise, the air fryer gift, shouldn’t have triggered this reaction.
Bewildered elderly couple | Source: Getty Images
For context, we had already paid for her college, and her parents covered her graduate school and half the wedding. Additionally, she and her husband are financially comfortable and do not desperately need our money.
We’re also not upset with our grandkids for revealing the cash gift since she is among the group of family members who are allowed to know about it. Our reason for sending the air fryer earlier was that we live far away, so we always send our gifts early.
Elderly couple enjoying family time | Source: Getty Images
The wedding gift is also separate from the money, which we give with the hope it will be used for something significant, like a home. Now, we feel like the action we took towards Eloise was well deserved and we are not going back on our decisions even if she and her mom threaten to do their worst.
Despite the tumultuous events and Eloise’s refusal to understand our perspective, my husband and I stand by our decision. Love and respect in our family are paramount, and we hoped this situation would be a learning experience for her.
Elderly couple with family on Christmas | Source: Getty Images
The holidays might be quieter this year with her family’s absence, but our hope is for healing and understanding in the future. Our door and hearts remain open to Eloise, whenever she’s ready to mend fences.
Little Girl is Caught Stealing, but When the Cashier Learns Why, She Makes an Unthinkable Decision — Story of the Day
Claire never expected a simple theft to shake her to the core—until she caught a child sneaking out with a sandwich. But when she saw the tiny candle flicker on top, heard the whispered birthday song, her heart ached. This wasn’t just shoplifting. It was survival. And Claire had a choice to make.
I stood behind the counter at Willow’s Market, the small corner store where I had worked for the past four years.
The scent of fresh bread lingered in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of cinnamon from the bakery section.
It was a comforting smell, the kind that wrapped around you like a warm blanket on a cold morning. The store had that effect—cozy, familiar, a little worn around the edges but full of heart.
I ran my fingers along the edge of a shelf, straightening the jars of homemade jam. Every item had its place, and I made sure of it.
Keeping the store neat wasn’t just part of the job; it was my way of showing I cared.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Beside the register, I had placed a small box filled with handwritten notes—each one carrying a simple kind wish for the customers.
Little things like, “Hope today brings you something good” or “You’re stronger than you think.”
Some people ignored them, some smiled politely, and a few—especially the older customers—tucked them into their pockets like tiny treasures.
It was something small, but it made people smile. And that mattered to me.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Just as I finished organizing the checkout area, the front door swung open sharply, making the hanging bells jingle too hard.
The sudden noise sent a jolt through me.
Logan.
I sighed internally.
Logan was the son of the store’s owner, Richard, and he had zero interest in keeping the store alive.
He wanted something more profitable—a liquor store, maybe, or a vape shop.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Something that would bring in fast cash, not the slow, steady kind of business his father had built over the years.
But Richard had refused, saying the community needed a place like Willow’s Market. And Logan? Well, he didn’t take no very well.
Logan sneered as he scanned the store, hands tucked into the pockets of his expensive coat.
It was too nice for a place like this—black wool, probably designer, the kind of thing that didn’t belong near dusty shelves and wooden counters.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“How’s it going, Claire?” His voice was casual, but there was something sharp beneath it, like a blade hidden under silk.
I straightened, forcing a polite tone. “We’re doing well. I opened early today to get everything ready.”
His sharp blue eyes flicked toward the counter. Right at my box of notes.
He reached for one, lifting it with two fingers as if it were something dirty.
“What the hell is this?” he scoffed, reading aloud. “Enjoy the little things? What kind of sentimental garbage is this?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Before I could respond, he tossed the note onto the floor and, with one careless sweep of his arm, knocked over the entire box.
The papers fluttered like wounded birds, scattering across the wooden floor.
My stomach tightened.
I knelt quickly, gathering them up with careful hands. “It’s just something nice for customers,” I said, trying to keep my voice even.
“This is a business,” Logan snapped.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Not a therapy session. If you wanna play philosopher, do it somewhere else. This store already isn’t making much money.”
His words hit like a slap, but I refused to react.
“It’s your father’s store,” I reminded him, standing up, my fingers curling around the handful of notes I had managed to pick up.
His jaw ticked. “For now,” he muttered, voice lower this time. Then he leaned in, just enough for me to catch the faint scent of expensive cologne.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“And you work here for now,” he added, his voice dripping with warning. “One more mistake, Claire, and you’ll be looking for a new job.”
His words sat heavy in the air between us, thick with meaning. He wasn’t just talking about my notes.
Then, just like that, he turned and left. The bell above the door clanged behind him, the sound sharp and jarring.
I stood there, my heart pounding, watching the scattered notes on the floor.
I had spent time writing each one, hoping they might bring someone a moment of comfort. But in the end, they were just paper to him.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I took a deep breath, willing my hands to stop shaking.
Then, slowly, I knelt back down and started picking them up again.
Later that afternoon, I stood behind the register, absently smoothing my apron as I watched Mrs.
Thompson count out coins with careful fingers. She was one of our regulars, always buying the same things—fresh bread and a small packet of tea.
The store was quiet, the golden afternoon light slanting through the front windows. Outside, cars rolled by lazily, and a few people walked past, chatting about their day.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Mrs. Thompson finally gathered the right amount and placed the small stack of coins on the counter with a satisfied nod.
“You know, dear,” she said, looking up at me with her warm, wrinkled smile, “this store is the best thing in the neighborhood. I don’t know what I’d do without it.”
Her words eased something tight in my chest. I hadn’t realized how tense I’d been since Logan’s visit. His voice still echoed in my head, sharp and full of warning.
“One more mistake, Claire, and you’ll be looking for a new job.”
I forced a smile. “That means a lot, Mrs. Thompson. Really.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
She patted my hand with the softness only age could bring. “Don’t let that boy get to you,” she said knowingly.
Before I could respond, movement near the sandwich shelf caught my eye. A small figure in an oversized hoodie hovered there, their head ducked low, fingers twitching at their sides.
Something about the way they moved—too hesitant, too jumpy—made my stomach tighten.
I glanced back at Mrs. Thompson. She was tucking her tea into her purse, humming to herself.
I turned back to the hooded figure.
“Excuse me!” I called, stepping out from behind the register. “Can I help you find something?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The kid’s head snapped up, and for a split second, wide brown eyes locked onto mine. Then—
They bolted.
In one swift movement, they spun toward the door, their sneakers skidding slightly on the worn floorboards.
A small shape vanished into their pocket as they pushed past the door, setting the hanging bells into a frantic jingle.
My stomach dropped.
I glanced at Mrs. Thompson. “Watch the register for a second?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
She barely hesitated before waving me off. “Go, dear!” She clutched her purse like she was preparing to defend the store herself.
I ran outside, my heart hammering as I scanned the busy sidewalk. The kid was fast—too fast.
Weaving through the crowd, dodging between people, slipping around corners like they’d done this before.
I almost lost them. Almost.
Then, a voice called out.
“Ran that way, five minutes ago.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I turned. A homeless man sat on a newspaper, pointing lazily down a side street.
I nodded in thanks and hurried forward, following his direction.
And then—I saw her.
The kid had stopped behind an abandoned alley, far from the main street. The oversized hoodie swallowed her small frame, making her look even younger.
I slowed my steps, pressing myself against the brick wall at the alley’s entrance, watching.
She pulled something from her pocket.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
A wrapped sandwich.
From the other pocket, she retrieved a tiny candle and a lighter.
My breath caught.
She unwrapped the sandwich with careful hands, smoothing the paper flat like it was something precious. Then, she stuck the small candle into the soft bread and flicked the lighter on.
A tiny flame flickered to life.
And then, she sang.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Happy birthday to me… Happy birthday to me…”
Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it cut through me like a knife.
She smiled—just a little—then took a deep breath and blew out the candle.
I stepped forward before I could think twice.
The girl froze.
Her big brown eyes filled with fear as she took a quick step back, her hands clenching at her sides.
“I—I’m sorry,” she stammered, already inching away like a cornered animal.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I knelt down, making sure my voice was gentle. “You don’t have to run.”
Her lips trembled.
“You’re not mad?” she whispered.
I shook my head. “I just wish you didn’t have to steal a sandwich for your own birthday.”
For the first time, something in her cracked. The tough shell, the instinct to fight or flee—it slipped, just for a second.
I held out my hand. “Come on. Let’s go back to the store. We’ll get you something to eat. No stealing required.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
She hesitated.
Then, to my surprise, she reached out and took my hand.
Back at the store, Logan was waiting for me.
The moment I stepped through the door, his voice hit me like a whip.
“Where the hell were you?” he barked. His arms were crossed, his jaw tight, impatience rolling off him in waves.
I tightened my grip on Katie’s small, trembling hand. She shrank slightly behind me, her fingers curling around mine like a lifeline.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“A child took something,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “I went after her.”
Logan’s expression darkened, his nostrils flaring like a bull ready to charge.
“So let me get this straight,” he said slowly, stepping forward, his boots clicking against the wooden floor.
“You left the register. Chased down a thief. And instead of calling the police, you brought her back here?”
“She’s not a thief,” I shot back. “She’s a hungry kid.”
He snorted, shaking his head. “I don’t care if she’s a saint. She stole from the store.”
I saw it then—the way his hand hovered near his pocket, his fingers twitching. He was reaching for his phone.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
My stomach clenched.
“I’m calling the cops,” he said, his voice dripping with finality. “They’ll take her to an orphanage. That’s where kids like this end up.”
Beside me, Katie flinched. I felt her grip tighten like she was bracing for something awful.
I stepped forward without thinking. “Logan, don’t. Please.”
He smirked, tilting his head. “Why not? You care about your job, don’t you?”
His words hung heavy in the air, daring me to argue.
I swallowed hard. My pulse pounded in my ears.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“I’ll quit if you don’t call the police,” I said.
For the first time, Logan hesitated.
He blinked. “What?”
“You want me gone, right?” My voice was even, but inside, my heart was racing. “If I walk away now, you get what you want. Just don’t call.”
Logan’s eyes flickered with something unreadable—maybe shock, maybe amusement. Then, slowly, his lips curled into a smug grin.
“Fine,” he said, sliding his phone back into his pocket. “Pack your things.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I exhaled, glancing down at Katie. Her wide brown eyes looked up at me, searching for reassurance.
I squeezed her hand.
“Let’s go,” I said.
The next morning, I walked into Richard’s office with a heavy heart. Richard was always kind to me, an owner of the store I looked up to. The folded resignation letter in my hand felt like a brick. I had spent four years at Willow’s Market, and now, it was over.
Richard sat at his desk, the morning light casting long shadows across the wooden surface. He was reading over some invoices, his glasses perched low on his nose.
I cleared my throat and placed the envelope in front of him. “Richard, I—”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
But before I could explain, he lifted a hand to stop me.
“Mrs. Thompson told me everything,” he said.
I froze.
My pulse quickened as I searched his face, expecting disappointment, maybe even anger. But instead, there was something softer—understanding.
He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Logan was supposed to take over this place one day… but after what he did?” He shook his head. “I don’t want someone like him running this store.”
I stared at him, my breath catching. “Then… who will?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Richard smiled.
“You.”
I almost dropped my coffee.
“Me?” My voice came out in a whisper.
“You’re not just a cashier, Claire,” he said gently. “You’re the heart of this store.”
Tears burned my eyes.
I had lost a job.
But somehow, I had gained a future.
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