When a workaholic businessman receives devastating news about his health, he meets a young boy in the hospital who changes his outlook on life. Their bond grows through unexpected friendship and small acts of kindness, teaching him what truly matters—until a heartbreaking twist reshapes everything.
Andrew, 50, sat at his desk, shuffling through papers while juggling scheduling meetings with his partners.
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He didn’t hear Michael, his assistant, enter the room. Michael stood there, waiting. After a few moments, he cleared his throat.
No response. Andrew kept working, his focus sharp. Michael tried again. “Mr. Smith.” Still no answer. He repeated his name three more times.
Finally, Andrew slammed his hands on the desk and snapped, “What?”
Michael didn’t flinch. “You asked me to tell you if your ex-wife called.”
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Andrew groaned and rubbed his temples. “How many times do I have to tell you? Ignore her calls. What now?”
Michael held a notepad. “She left a message. I should warn you—it’s a direct quote. Her words, not mine.” He read from the note. “‘You pompous jerk, I will never forgive you for wasting so many years of my life. If you don’t give me back my painting, I’ll smash your car.’ That’s the message.”
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Andrew’s face turned red. “We’ve been divorced for two years! Does she not have anything better to do?”
Michael looked at him, waiting for further instructions. “Should I respond to her?”
“No! And stop taking her calls,” Andrew said. Then he paused. “Actually, tell her I threw that painting in the trash!”
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Andrew grabbed a pen and hurled it toward the wall. Michael ducked slightly, gave a polite nod, and left the room.
Moments later, Andrew’s phone rang. He frowned, picking it up.
“Andrew Smith?” a voice asked.
“Yes. Who’s calling?”
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“This is the hospital. Your test results are ready. The doctor wants to see you.”
“Can’t you just tell me now?” Andrew said, irritated. “I’m busy.”
“Sorry, sir. The doctor will explain in person.”
Andrew sighed heavily. “Fine. I’ll come in.” He hung up, shaking his head.
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Andrew rarely allowed himself the luxury of a lunch break, but this time was different. The doctor’s office was quiet, the ticking clock on the wall the only sound.
Andrew sat stiffly in a chair, his fingers tapping against the armrest. When the door opened, the doctor stepped in, his face serious. Andrew frowned, sensing bad news.
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The doctor sat across from him and spoke in a steady, measured tone, using terms Andrew didn’t understand.
Then came the word—cancer. “We need to act fast,” the doctor said.
“Is this some kind of joke?” Andrew asked, his voice sharp. “I own a company. I can’t just check into a hospital.”
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The doctor met his eyes. “Your health should come first. The company can wait.”
Andrew leaned forward. “What are my chances of getting better?”
“I can’t promise anything,” the doctor said. “Starting treatment right away is critical.”
Andrew’s voice rose. “Can I still work while I’m here?”
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“Treatment affects everyone differently,” the doctor explained. “You will stay in the hospital so we can monitor you. Someone can bring you a computer.”
Andrew frowned and stood up. “Fine. I’ll sort it out.”
The doctor watched him leave. “We’ll see you tomorrow with your things,” he said before Andrew reached the door.
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As Andrew walked through the hospital’s pediatric wing, he noticed a boy, about eight years old, tossing a ball back and forth with a nurse.
The sound of their laughter echoed in the corridor. The ball suddenly rolled across the floor and stopped near Andrew’s feet.
“Excuse me, sir!” the boy called out, smiling. “Can you please throw the ball back?”
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Andrew picked up the ball, his face tense. Without a word, he hurled it down the hall, far from the boy and nurse, then turned and walked away.
“That was mean, sir!” the boy shouted.
Andrew had been in the hospital for days that felt like weeks. He tried to keep working, setting up his laptop and pushing through meetings.
But the treatment was draining. Each session left him weaker. The nausea was constant, and sleep was nearly impossible.
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One afternoon, during another long chemotherapy session, Andrew leaned back, his eyes half-closed. He felt miserable.
Suddenly, a small voice broke through his fog. He opened his eyes to see a boy standing in front of him. Startled, Andrew flinched. The boy giggled. It was the same boy from the corridor.
“What do you want, kid?” Andrew mumbled, not even lifting his head.
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“I’ve been walking around the hospital looking for someone to play with. It’s boring here.”
Andrew glanced at him, annoyed. “What’s your name?” he asked.
“Tommy,” the boy replied with a wide grin.
Andrew sighed. “Listen, Tommy. I’m not in the mood to play. Go bother someone else before I start feeling worse.”
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Tommy didn’t move. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small peppermint candy. He held it out to Andrew. “This helps with nausea. You should try it.”
Andrew hesitated, then snatched the candy and set it on the table.
“You’re really grumpy!” Tommy said, laughing. “I’m going to call you Mr. Grouch. Are you mad because you’re scared of needles?” He pointed at the IV attached to Andrew’s arm.
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Andrew frowned. “I’m not scared of anything.”
Tommy nodded. “That’s fine. I was scared at first too, but then I stopped. My mom says I’m a superhero. Do you have a superpower?”
“No,” Andrew said, his voice flat.
“That’s because you’re too sad,” Tommy replied, his tone serious now.
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Andrew looked at the boy, surprised by the honesty in his big, bright eyes. “Is there anything you want?” Andrew asked.
Tommy grinned. “Yeah. I want to buy flowers for my mom. She works really hard, but I don’t have any money.”
Andrew sighed again, reached for his wallet, and pulled out a few bills. “Here. Get your flowers. Maybe buy yourself something too. But leave me alone.”
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Tommy’s face lit up. “Thanks, Mr. Grouch!” He ran out, clutching the money, while Andrew stared at the peppermint candy on the table.
With a sigh, he picked it up, unwrapped it, and popped it into his mouth. To his surprise, the sharp sweetness helped ease the nausea. It wasn’t much, but it made a difference for a while.
That evening, as Andrew stared at his laptop, a nurse knocked on his door.
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She carried a small paper bag. “This is for you,” she said, placing it on the table. “Tommy sent it.”
Andrew opened the bag and found it full of peppermint candies. He shook his head, unsure whether to feel amused or moved.
The next morning, he decided to find Tommy. He needed to make one thing clear: the money wasn’t a gift.
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As he approached Tommy’s room, he saw a woman leaning against the wall, her shoulders shaking. She was crying.
“Are you okay?” Andrew asked, his voice low.
The woman wiped her eyes quickly and looked up. “Yes… Did you need something?”
“Tommy gave me some candies yesterday,” Andrew said.
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The woman’s lips curved into a small smile. “Oh, so you’re Mr. Grouch,” she said.
Andrew raised an eyebrow. “My name’s Andrew,” he replied.
“I’m Sara,” she said. “Are you here for treatment too?”
Andrew nodded.
“Then you understand,” Sara said quietly. “The bills, the stress. I can’t even pay rent right now. They told me we’ll be evicted in two months.”
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Andrew nodded again, unsure of what to say. Before he could respond, the door burst open. Tommy ran out, his face lighting up when he saw Andrew. “Hey, Mr. Grouch!” he called, grinning ear to ear.
From that day forward, Tommy became a constant presence in Andrew’s life.
The boy would wander into Andrew’s room with a big grin and endless energy. At first, Andrew found it annoying, but Tommy’s persistence wore him down.
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Soon, Andrew began looking forward to the visits. Tommy taught him to notice the simple joys in life.
They sat by the window, watching the sunset, guessing the colors in the sky. They played harmless pranks on nurses, earning scolding looks and stifled smiles.
Sometimes, they “borrowed” wheelchairs and raced down the halls, laughing until their sides hurt.
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Andrew didn’t ask about Tommy’s illness. He wasn’t sure how to bring it up. One afternoon, Tommy mentioned Sara had been crying again. “She’s worried about money,” Tommy said. “We might lose our house.”
Andrew quietly gave Tommy an envelope of cash. “Tell her it’s from a magician,” he said.
When Sara tried to return the money, Andrew waved her off. “I’m not a magician,” he said. “I don’t know where it came from.”
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Weeks passed. Andrew’s treatments worked, and the day came when the doctor gave him the news—he was cancer-free.
Ecstatic, Andrew rushed to share it with Tommy. But when he arrived, Tommy was unconscious, Sara sitting beside him, tears streaming down her face.
“What happened?” Andrew asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
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Sara wiped her eyes and shook her head. “The doctors said there’s nothing more they can do.”
Andrew stared at her, struggling to process the words. “But… he seemed so happy. He always smiled. I thought he was improving.”
Sara looked at him, her face full of pain. “He didn’t want you to see how sick he was. He wanted to be strong for you. He thought he was a superhero.”
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Andrew’s chest tightened. “I’m so sorry.”
Sara managed a faint smile through her tears. “Don’t be. He said you saved him. These months, you gave him laughter and hope. You made him forget about being sick.”
Andrew shook his head slowly. “No. He’s the one who saved me.”
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He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her in a gentle hug. She cried quietly against his shoulder, and though Andrew wished he could take her pain away, he knew nothing would ever truly ease it.
That night, Tommy passed away peacefully, surrounded by the love of his mother and the memories he had made.
Andrew sat alone in his room afterward, overwhelmed by the loss. Andrew couldn’t bear the thought of such a bright soul being forgotten.
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Determined, he started a foundation in Tommy’s name to help sick children, ensuring his kindness would live on.
He also stayed in touch with Sara, offering her support in every way he could.
One afternoon, Andrew stood at his ex-wife’s door, holding the painting she had demanded for so long. She opened the door, her mouth ready to hurl accusations, but Andrew silently handed her the painting.
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“I’m not here to argue,” Andrew said, his tone calm as he held out the painting.
His ex-wife frowned, puzzled. “What is this supposed to mean?” she asked.
“Nothing important,” Andrew replied, a small smile forming. “I’m just making sure I keep my superpowers.” Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away.
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Tell us what you think about this story and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.
If you enjoyed this story, read this one: Taking care of Mom was hard enough without the tension with my sister. Accusations flew when precious things started disappearing. I thought I knew who was to blame, but the truth shattered my world. Betrayal came from where I least expected, leaving me questioning everything—and everyone—I trusted.
This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.
Son Talks to Mom Only on Video Call for 7 Years, Sees Deserted House When He Finally Visits – Story of the Day
A woman finally got a good job when her son left for college and paid for everything he needed since then. Seven years passed, and they only talked through a screen, but one day, he returned and couldn’t believe what had happened.
“Chris, don’t worry about anything. I’m paying for as much as I can. Whatever you need, call me,” Olive told her son at the train station. He was on his way to New York for college, and she had finally landed a well-paying job.
However, for most of his life until then, she couldn’t afford much. His presents were always second-hand, as she raised him alone and studied at night. He never lacked food or shelter, but Olive always felt guilty for not being able to give him the things his friends had.
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She finally got a decent salary and was ready to give him anything he wanted.
“Thank you, Mom,” Chris said, hugged her, and got on the train.
He knocked on the door. No response. He looked through the window and couldn’t believe it. There was nothing inside.
***
“Mrs. Franklin, you should come to visit! I’m so huge now!” Chris’ fiancée, Rosalie, told her through the computer screen.
Chris had met her during his junior year, and they were both about to graduate. However, Rosalie found out she was pregnant, and they got engaged. Sadly, Olive had yet to meet her in person because they were both studying so hard, and Rosalie couldn’t travel much in her condition.
Meanwhile, Olive couldn’t visit either because she was working extra hard. Over the years, she took on more and more hours at work despite her excellent salary because she was paying for Chris’ college, his housing, his expenses, and her own. However, she lived as frugally as possible.
“Soon, Rosalie! I hope to meet you soon. When I get a free moment,” Olive nodded, and finally, Chris appeared on the screen. He told Rosalie he needed to talk to his mother, and she left the room.
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“Mom, I wanted to ask you something,” Chris started, scratching the back of his head. “Since Rosalie and I are going to graduate soon and have a baby, I was wondering if you could help me with a house. We looked at one already. It’s in New Jersey because there’s no way we could live in the city, but it’s beautiful. It reminds me of home.”
Olive stared at her son for a while and thought hard. “Well, I… don’t know,” she muttered, thinking about her savings and hard work. She was finally planning for retirement.
“Please,” Chris begged and talked about the house cost and how much they would need for a down payment. He also said that Rosalie didn’t have anything because she had no family to help out.
“Ok, Chris, ok. I think we can work something out,” Olive finally said. She would have to deplete her entire savings and, maybe, live even more frugally. But it was possible.
“Thank you! Thank you, Mom! I don’t know what I would do without you!” Chris said, almost crying on the video call, and Olive smiled, knowing it was all worth it.
***
“I wish you guys could come this Christmas,” Olive commented in front of her computer, as she did many times over the years. Her son had left her house seven years ago and had not returned to his Maryland hometown. All they did was video chat. She was missing her granddaughter’s life and hated it. But everyone was busy.
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Olive worked now more than ever because she still helped her son often and had depleted her savings a second time when he wanted to start a business. She never asked him for anything in return but wished they would at least visit, as she couldn’t.
“We can’t, Mom. Not this year,” Chris said, shaking his head. “But thank you for the gifts you already sent Mallory. She loves them. You’re an amazing grandma.”
“Put her on the screen,” Olive requested gently and watched her granddaughter longing to hold her in her arms.
***
Olive didn’t know that Chris was finally planning to visit her. He couldn’t buy plane tickets for Rosalie and Mallory to come with him, but he was finally happy to see his mother.
However, his taxi stopped in front of his house, and Chris frowned. It was 9 p.m., and the lights were completely out. Chris told his cad driver to wait for a second and got out. The porch furniture was gone. The plants her mother loved were also missing. The garden was overgrown, and even the welcome mat was absent.
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He knocked on the door. No response. He looked through the window and couldn’t believe it. There was nothing inside. Did Mom move? Why didn’t she tell me? he wondered, concerned.
“Chris? Is that you?” a female voice asked.
He turned around and saw Mrs. Torres, an old woman who had lived next door to them all his life. “Mrs. Torres. Hi, there!”
“What are you doing here, kid?” she asked.
“I’m here to see Mom. Do you know where she is?” he asked, frowning.
“Oh, dear. Your mother moved away about two years ago. She sold that house, but the new owners moved just a few weeks ago. I don’t know who’ll be moving in now,” Mrs. Torres said, her forehead wrinkling as she rambled on.
“She never told me,” Chris muttered. “Do you know where she is?”
“Sure, I have her address written. Come with me,” Mrs. Torres went to her house and gave him a piece of paper.
Chris read the address and frowned. The address pointed to a side of town that wasn’t too nice. “Do you know why she moved there?” he asked the older woman.
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“No, honey. But I know she has a roommate now,” Mrs. Torres shrugged, and Chris was even more baffled.
He finally got back in his taxi and gave him the new address. He reached an apartment complex with run-down paintwork on a poorly lit street. It was terrible. Also, he quickly entered the building and went up easily because there was no security.
“Chris? What are you doing here?” Olive asked, shocked when she answered the door.
“Mom! What is going on? Why did you sell the house?” Chris questioned, dismayed and bewildered.
“Oh, Chris. Come in,” she sighed and ushered her son into her tiny living room.
Olive explained that the first time he asked her for money for the house, she had some savings and depleted him to buy them the house. However, when Chris asked her for money for his business, she had not saved anything and decided to sell her house and give him almost all the profit.
Chris was shocked by this news and the fact that he had been so oblivious. So careless. Such a lousy son. “Why didn’t you say anything? Mom! I wouldn’t have taken that money if I’d known,” he muttered, breathless.
“But I wanted you to succeed, sweetie. I failed to give you so much when you were younger, I just didn’t…” she tried to explain, but Chris cut her off.
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“Mom, you gave me everything I ever needed. I only asked because I thought you had it. I shouldn’t have asked. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for not asking about you. I’m sorry for not visiting. I’m so sorry you have to live in this part of town and with a roommate at your age, for God’s sake!” Chris apologized, frustrated tears coming out of his eyes.
Olive teared up as well and hugged her son dearly while Chris made her so many promises. He called Rosalie that night, explained everything, and they both agreed that it was time to move Olive closer to them. Luckily, she got a new job in New Jersey quickly.
Eventually, they built an in-law suite for her so that Olive wouldn’t miss another second of her granddaughter’s life. And slowly but surely, Chris repaid his mother for every penny she had given him for the house and business – which took off exponentially and allowed them to live comfortably. But most of all, Chris never allowed Olive to sacrifice anything else again.
What can we learn from this story?
- Visit and talk to your parents as much as possible, especially those who give you everything unconditionally. Not everyone is lucky enough to have a mother like Olive, and Chris should’ve checked on her more often.
- Don’t feel guilty if you can’t buy your kids the same as other parents. All they need is your love. Children don’t need fancy new sneakers or the latest games. All they need is your support and love.
Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.
If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a man who quit his job to take his mom from a nursing home and doesn’t find her there.
This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.
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