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.
Cashier Learns She Owns a $3.8M Business after Finding Will in Her Name — Story of the Day
An unusual letter provides the catalyst for one woman to uncover a secret kept from her for years, and receive unexpected wealth.
Gregory locked the door to the small corner shop where he’d worked as a cashier for the last twenty years. His coat was too old and thin to keep the chill from his bones as he walked home, but he smiled nonetheless. It had been another great day at work.
Gregory’s wife had never understood how he found satisfaction in what she called a low-level job. She’d left him because she felt he lacked ambition, but he still had his daughter.
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Linda was standing in the foyer of the apartment block where she and Gregory lived when he entered the building. She had also recently started working as a cashier and still wore her uniform. In one hand, she held a letter.
“What have you got there, Linda?” Gregory asked as he approached her.
Linda looked up, startled. “You tell me, Dad. I’m too scared to open it.”
Gregory frowned and took the letter from his daughter. The name of a legal practice was printed on the envelope.
“Why would a lawyer be contacting me?”
Gregory shrugged. He tore the envelope open and studied the papers inside. His jaw dropped, and his fingers began shaking as he read.
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“It’s bad, isn’t it?”
“It’s… strange. According to this letter, somebody has left you a business comprising three restaurants, and it’s worth nearly four million dollars.”
“What!” Linda snatched the letter from Gregory’s hands. “It’s got to be a scam.”
“I did this to find out whether you’re a good person.”
“There’s an easy way to find out.” Gregory leaned over to indicate the lawyer’s phone number on the letterhead.
Linda called the lawyer and arranged a meeting for the next day. Gregory accompanied her.
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“This has got to be a mistake,” Linda told the lawyer when they entered his office.
“I don’t know anyone who would leave me a business.”
The lawyer shook his head. “There’s no mistake, Miss. My client, Matthew Markham, was very particular in his instructions.”
Gregory felt as though he’d been electrocuted. “Please, say that name again.”
“Matthew Markham.”
Gregory understood everything then. He hung his head and burst into tears.
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A few months earlier…
Matthew shivered with anxiety as he approached the cashier. He set down the packet of gum and stared at the man who rang it up. The nametag on his chest said ‘Gregory.’ He was the right man.
“Sir? Are you okay?”
“Fine.” Matthew realized he’d zoned out and handed the cashier a five-dollar bill. “But I do need to talk to you. It’s about Linda.”
The man looked up sharply at the customer who had just uttered his little daughter’s name. “Is she in some kind of trouble?”
Matthew shook his head. “Do you have a few minutes, please?”
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Matthew and Gregory arranged to meet at a diner nearby during Gregory’s lunch break. While Matthew waited, he thought over the revelations that had brought him to this point.
A few days earlier, he’d been discussing his terminal illness with a close friend, Jeremy, and lamenting that he had no heirs to whom he could leave his restaurant business.
Then Jeremy dropped a bombshell on him: Matthew had a daughter he didn’t know about. His ex-girlfriend had died in childbirth, and the baby was placed up for adoption.
Matthew immediately hired a detective to track her down. Days later, he was finally sitting down with Gregory, the man who’d adopted his daughter.
Matthew explained to Gregory that he was Linda’s biological father and then asked the question that was foremost in his mind:
“Does Linda know she was adopted?”
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“No, and you can’t tell her, sir.” Gregory looked at him pleadingly. “My wife left me a couple of months back, and I can’t lose Linda too. Please, don’t take her from me.”
Matthew was torn. He wanted to know his daughter but didn’t want to cause problems for the man who’d raised her. He also didn’t want to upset his daughter’s life by introducing himself when he only had a few months more to live.
“What is she like?” Matthew asked. “Is she a good person?”
Gregory smiled. “She’s an amazing person. She’s kind and treats everyone equally.”
Matthew nodded. He was starting to get an idea.
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The next day, Matthew disguised himself as a poor man and went to the store where Linda worked as a cashier. He took a few essential food items to her checkout and waited while she rang them up.
“I’m sorry, Miss,” he said once she told him the cost.
“I can’t afford all of that. I’ve only got ten dollars.”
“Don’t worry about it, sir.” Linda smiled at him. “I’ll cover the rest.”
Matthew left the store and returned a week later. This time, he wore his finest suit. He chose several of the most expensive items in the store and again went to Linda’s checkout.
“Get out of the way,” Matthew shouted as he pushed his way to the front of the queue. “I’m in a hurry and need to be served fast.”
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He set his purchases down in front of Linda and waved his hands at her. “Hurry up, girl, I’ve got an important meeting to attend.”
“Then you’ll have to tell them you’re going to be delayed.” Linda pushed his purchases aside and gestured to the woman behind him. “You’re next, ma’am.”
“I need to be served first!” Matthew exclaimed.
“That’s too bad, sir. I don’t allow anyone to push to the front of the queue, no matter how important you think you are.”
Matthew grinned from ear to ear. “I’m glad you said that.”
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He reached for a bouquet of yellow lilies and placed the cash to pay for them on the counter. “These are for you, Linda. My name is Matthew, and I did this to find out whether you’re a good person.”
“Do me one favor, please, and remember my name when you see these lilies.”
Present day…
“Matthew is the name of your biological father, Linda,” Gregory said. “You’re adopted.”
“Why did you never tell me?”
“I’m so sorry. I never wanted you to feel bad about it. Then your mother left, and I was afraid you’d leave me too if you knew I wasn’t your real father.”
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Linda hugged him. “I’d never do that, dad.”
The lawyer cleared his throat. “As I was saying, my client bequeathed his three restaurants to you, his sole heir, when he passed away a month ago. These restaurants are each worth over a million dollars.”
“Mr. Markham also had a special request. He wanted me to give you something.”
The lawyer left the room and soon returned with a bouquet of yellow lilies, which he presented to Linda.
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Linda cradled the flowers in her arms. “I understand now.” She turned to Gregory. “He came into my shop once and asked that I remember his name when I see yellow lilies.”
Gregory placed a hand on Linda’s shoulder. “I’m sure he was very proud of you, Linda, and will continue to be proud of you from heaven.”
What can we learn from this story?
Treat people equally, and you will be rewarded. Matthew was encouraged to leave his business to Linda when he saw that she was a good person.
One can find happiness in a simple life. Gregory and Linda were both happy to work as cashiers and earn an honest living.
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 woman who discovers the house she’s been cleaning for the past ten years belongs to her.
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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