
Rose, who once lived a life of joy and luxury in her family mansion, was now living on the street, thanks to the greed of her three sons. But soon, she would get a phone call that would end her misery…
To everyone who passed by the Roy Mansion, the exquisite six-bedroom house was nothing short of a dream.
On the outside, people posed in front of its majestic weathered gates and took pictures to share on social media. But on the inside was a heartbreaking story of love, loss, and greed.
Love, because it was the mansion that a rich young man had built for the love of his life almost four decades ago and raised a family of three boys and a girl with her…
Loss, because it was within those walls that the fairytale love story came to an abrupt end when the man succumbed to an illness, breathing his last in the arms of the woman he loved…
And greed, because the three sons that were once the center of their parents’ universe had manipulated and kicked their old widowed mother out because she refused to sell the house.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Getty Images
Rose was that 63-year-old widow who had lost everything – the only man she ever loved, the only home she ever knew, and the love of her three stubborn sons, Don, David, and Daniel.
While the three young men patted their own backs for finally selling that old relic of a house and buying three spectacular modern houses for themselves with their share of the money, they had conveniently cut out their elderly mother from the picture.
Their sister Debbie got a share, too. But she was away in some disease-ridden corner of the earth, trying to come up with a cure for some new illness nobody had heard of.
“Who cares? Debbie could donate her share to some worthless charity for all I care!” Don said on a conference call with his brothers.
“Yeah! And Mom will be all right, too. It’s not like she’s going to beg on the streets. The woman is smarter than that!” David chuckled.
“It had to be done, brothers! Mom was going to make us wait for an eternity to get our share…” Daniel, the eldest, had the last word.
Meanwhile, Rose was now in a sketchy part of the city, just another sad, desperate face in the line of homeless people outside an infamous park.

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She had left her home with almost nothing, except for Raymond’s oldest car. She often slept in the backseat, squeezing her tall frame to fit in the narrow space.
“Oh, Raymond!” Rose sighed, looking up through the car window to the heavens. “This is what it all has come to! I’m glad you’re not here to see this; it would break your sweet heart. Wait for me, Ray. I’ll be joining you soon, wherever you are, honey…until then, I’ll rest…”
Amidst all the unbearable grief and pain, there was a small part of her that felt relief in giving up.
After all, Rose had never really had a moment of respite ever since Raymond had died, leaving her to fend for four children, all under the age of ten.
It had been a long, arduous journey bringing up the kids. But it had also been a fulfilling one. After Raymond’s death, Rose worked two jobs for several years, saving every penny she could for their education and future.
And it paid off as all four of them turned out to be successful in their own fields.
“They scammed you, and now they’ll know what that feels like!” Debbie said and brought out a small gift case for her mother.
But their professional accomplishments no longer impressed Rose because she had now seen the harsh truth: her sons had failed at being good human beings.
They had betrayed the woman who single-handedly raised them and left her with a laughable amount of change, not enough to even buy an old trailer.

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Days turned into weeks until it had almost been a month into Rose’s life on the street. She didn’t complain once – because even on the street, her kindness and sense of humor had managed to make her some incredible friends.
Still, there were only two people she kept thinking of: her husband Raymond and her daughter Debbie.
Debbie had left home at the tender age of 18, hoping to earn money for the family. Life surrounded her with helpful people who noticed her potential, and several years later, she became a highly respected medical researcher.
“I’m so proud of our girl, Raymond! I worry for her. Watch over her for me, will you? Find a way to tell her I’m all right, and I love her,” Rose spoke to her husband in her heart, before bursting into tears.
Little did the elderly woman know that just one week later, she would be standing face to face with her daughter, hugging her like they had never parted.
At first, she didn’t recognize the elegant woman in the classy suit getting out of the chic black car that had pulled up in the abandoned parking lot.
But when the woman’s eyes landed on Rose, the childlike joy on that beautiful young face was unmistakable.
“Debbie! Darling! Am I dreaming?” Rose was dizzy with emotion as her daughter hugged her tight.

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“Mom, I’m here now. It’s all going to be okay,” Debbie sobbed for her mother, who was a frail shadow of what she used to be.
It turned out that a kind old neighbor had recently called Debbie in the middle of the night and told her about what her brothers had done to their mom.
“He also said he had seen you eating leftovers in the backseat of dad’s old red car.”
“My heart sank, and I jumped onto the next plane to find you and meet you,” Debbie cried, holding her mother.
That afternoon, Debbie and Rose sat in a hotel room and spoke for hours. After reminiscing about the good old days, Debbie cleared her throat. It was time to reveal the big news to mother.
“Mom, what Don, David, and Daniel have done to you is unforgivable. And as their eldest sister, I decided to put them in their place!” Debbie sounded determined and confident.
Debbie insisted on taking Rose to “a special place.” An hour-long drive later, mother and daughter were standing in front of the old mansion, admiring its beauty.
“Too bad it’s sold, sweetheart,” Rose said, wiping her tears.
“I know. Because I bought it!” Debbie said calmly.
Rose couldn’t believe her ears.

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She listened as her kind daughter explained how she spent all her savings on buying back the house without revealing to her brothers who she was.
“They scammed you, and now they’ll know what that feels like!” Debbie said and brought out a small gift case for her mother.
When Rose opened the box, she didn’t expect to see the keys to the old house. “It even has the same old keychain on it, look!”
A week of paperwork later, Rose finally got a call from her daughter’s lawyer. “You are now the sole owner of this mansion, and nobody can force you out of it anymore. This beautiful $1 million mansion is forever yours, Ms. Rose.”
Rose stood still, holding the phone to her ear long after the call was over. She felt a sense of overwhelm and relief and finally burst into tears.
As for Debbie, there was one last thing she wanted to do.
She spoke to her lawyer and came up with an elaborate scheme that conned all three brothers into selling their new houses, leaving them in a financial lurch and giving them a taste of their own medicine.
Meanwhile, Debbie and her mother were out enjoying little pleasures of life like drifting dandelions and bubblegum ice cream.

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Rose had taught Debbie to be a kind human being, and now, it was her turn to teach her mother to live for herself.
The doting daughter arranged lunch dates, spa days, and birthday photoshoots for her beautiful mother; right until the day she peacefully died in her arms.
What can we learn from this story?
- Greed makes us blind to the blessings in our life. Don, David, and Daniel were only focused on getting their share of the family estate. In the process, they lost the loving presence of their mother, the woman who had toiled hard to raise them.
- The joy that comes at the cost of our parents’ well-being is meaningless. The sons tried to cut Rose out of their lives of luxury but ended up unhappy. On the other hand, Debbie found great happiness in living with her elderly mother for the rest of her years.
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 another older woman who makes a wish to see the son she had abandoned years ago and finds a charming young man smiling knowingly at 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.
The Mothers of a Couple Turned Thanksgiving Into a Living Hell for Their Newlywed Kids — Story of the Day

Two stubborn mothers arrive at Thanksgiving with their own plans, sparking a rivalry that fills the kitchen with smoke and tension. As surprises unfold, the family faces one unforgettable holiday where tempers flare, loyalties are tested, and a last-minute twist reminds them of what truly matters.
Thick, dark smoke swirled through the house, making it hard to breathe. Kira coughed, struggling to take in air as she pressed her hand over her mouth. Her other hand protectively rested on her pregnant belly, and she glanced at Michael with wide, anxious eyes.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
They moved cautiously toward the kitchen, where the thickest smoke seemed to gather. There, like two children caught in the act, stood Margaret and Rebecca, each looking as startled as the other.
Their faces were smudged with black soot, their eyes wide and guilty, while the oven door hung open, revealing a turkey charred beyond recognition.
“What is going on here?!” Michael yelled, his eyes darting from his mother to his mother-in-law, then to the smoky kitchen around them.
“This old woman—” Rebecca started, pointing an accusing finger at Margaret.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Old woman? Look who’s talking!” Margaret interrupted, her voice sharp as she crossed her arms.
Rebecca glared. “If you hadn’t barged in here—”
Margaret shot back, “Barged in? You’re the one who can’t cook!”
Their voices grew louder, words tumbling over each other, turning into a mess of jabs and shouts, each trying to talk over the other. Insults flew back and forth as if they’d forgotten anyone else was there.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Please, stop,” Kira whispered, clutching her belly, but they didn’t hear her.
Kira winced, feeling a sharp pain. “Stop! I’m in labor!” she yelled, her voice cutting through the chaos.
Both women froze, their faces stunned. Then, suddenly, the turkey burst into flames in the oven. Margaret and Rebecca shrieked, grabbing towels to fight the fire, while Kira moaned in pain, and Michael stood there, helpless, eyes wide in shock.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
One Week Earlier…
Margaret drove up to her daughter Kira’s house, feeling a spark of excitement. She held a fresh-baked pie on her lap, proud of the surprise she had planned.
Without calling ahead, she parked, stepped out, and walked up the front steps, smiling at the thought of catching them off guard. She knocked firmly, and before long, Michael opened the door, blinking in surprise.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Margaret… what are you doing here?” he asked, blinking in surprise.
“I decided to surprise you,” Margaret replied cheerfully, holding out a pie. “I thought a little treat might be nice.”
Michael took the pie, glancing back toward the kitchen, a hint of hesitation in his eyes. “Thanks, Margaret. Um, come on in.”
Margaret stepped inside, slipping off her coat, and instantly heard voices from the kitchen. She paused, recognizing the tone of Rebecca’s voice. With a raised brow, she followed the sound and found Kira seated, listening as Rebecca talked in her usual, commanding way.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Rebecca was in mid-sentence, her words calm yet firm. “It’s important to establish good habits early. Babies need a routine, structure.”
Margaret felt a surge of irritation. “Why are you bothering my daughter?”
Rebecca looked over, blinking, and gave a tight smile. “I’m just giving her a little parenting advice.”
Margaret scoffed. “Parenting advice? And what do you know about raising kids?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Rebecca’s smile vanished. “Excuse me? Your daughter is married to my son, after all. I think that gives me some right to speak.”
“Oh, well, apologies accepted,” Margaret said with a dry laugh. “Though I recall your son didn’t even know how to wash his own dishes when he started dating Kira. I had to teach him myself!”
“How dare you!” Rebecca snapped.
Michael stepped into the kitchen. “Please, calm down. Let’s keep things peaceful, all right?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Kira gave a tired sigh. “There will be a little baby in this house soon,” she said softly. “We want a positive atmosphere here. No fighting.”
Margaret nodded, sitting down at the table. “You’re right, Kira. I want the best for this family. And, well, since we’re all here, even if some people weren’t exactly welcome…” Her gaze shifted pointedly to Rebecca. “Why don’t we talk about Thanksgiving? I’ll make my signature turkey—”
Rebecca cut her off. “Actually, I was going to suggest we celebrate at my place this year.”
Margaret’s eyes narrowed. “We celebrate at my place every year. It’s tradition.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Rebecca crossed her arms. “Traditions can change. I’m tired of sneezing from your silly cat.”
Margaret raised an eyebrow. “Better to have a cat than to celebrate in a snake’s den.”
Rebecca’s voice rose. “Who do you think you are?!”
Kira sighed heavily, covering her face with her hands. Michael gently patted her back. “I think we should celebrate here this year,” he offered quickly.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“What?” Kira blurted, surprised.
“It’ll be fine, Kira. I’ll help you with the cooking,” Michael assured her.
Margaret shook her head. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”
“It’s better than all this arguing,” Michael replied.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Kira nodded wearily. “He’s right. My head is pounding.”
Rebecca softened a little. “At least let me help. I can make the turkey.”
Kira sighed. “Fine.”
“But what about my signature turkey?” Margaret asked, hurt.
“Just this once, Mom,” Kira pleaded.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Margaret paused, then gave in with a nod. “All right. For you, Kira,” she said, though a secret plan was already forming in her mind.
On Thanksgiving morning, Margaret rose early, her mind set on her plan. She was ready, having spent the entire week gathering the perfect ingredients. She packed up her turkey, herbs, spices, and everything needed to create her well-loved recipe.
She carefully tucked everything into a basket and drove over to Kira and Michael’s house. She knew Kira and Michael were out, so there was no time to waste.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
She reached their front door, taking out the spare key Kira had given her, meant only for emergencies. But today, Margaret felt this was important enough.
As she stepped inside, she paused, listening. A muffled noise drifted from the kitchen—pots clanging, cabinets closing. Margaret froze, her mind racing. Kira and Michael’s car wasn’t outside, so it wasn’t them.
Her eyes darted around, and she spotted an umbrella by the door. She grabbed it firmly and walked toward the kitchen, her heart pounding. She raised the umbrella as she peeked inside.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
There, bent over the counter, was Rebecca, elbows deep in turkey preparations. Margaret stopped short, barely holding back from swinging the umbrella.
“Are you completely insane?!” Rebecca shouted.
Margaret glared back. “I thought you were a burglar! What are you even doing here?”
Rebecca crossed her arms. “Kira gave me permission to cook here. But what are you doing here?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Margaret calmly set her basket on the counter. “I’m here to make my turkey.”
Rebecca scowled. “That wasn’t the deal.”
Margaret smirked. “What’s wrong? Afraid mine will taste better?”
Rebecca narrowed her eyes. “We’ll just have to see about that!”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The kitchen was soon filled with the sounds of clanking pots and muttered complaints as Margaret and Rebecca worked side by side, each determined to make the best turkey.
They bumped elbows, snatched spices from each other’s reach, and exchanged pointed glares. Margaret sprinkled her herbs, pretending not to notice when Rebecca nudged her arm slightly, causing salt to spill. Rebecca hummed loudly, ignoring Margaret’s muttering about “rookie mistakes.”
Finally, Margaret finished her turkey, carefully placing it in the oven with a triumphant grin. She noticed the irritation in Rebecca’s eyes but ignored it, brushing her hands off as she headed to the living room to relax.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
After a while, a strange, burnt smell filled the air. Alarmed, Margaret rushed back to the kitchen, finding Rebecca desperately waving a towel, trying to fan away thick smoke billowing from the oven.
“What did you do?!” Margaret shouted, glaring at Rebecca.
Rebecca crossed her arms. “I didn’t do anything! Maybe you don’t know how to cook.”
Margaret stormed over to the oven, eyeing the controls. She noticed the temperature had been changed. “You did this! You’re trying to ruin my turkey!”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Rebecca leaned in with a smirk. “I didn’t touch it. If it’s ruined, it’s your own fault!”
Margaret pulled open the oven door, only to be hit by a wave of thick, black smoke that poured out into the kitchen. She coughed and squinted, trying to see through the haze.
There, in the center of the oven, was her turkey—charred to a solid black lump. It looked nothing like the golden masterpiece she’d imagined.
Moments later, Michael and Kira walked through the door, both stopping short at the smoky mess. Instantly, Margaret and Rebecca began shouting, each blaming the other.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
But suddenly, Kira doubled over, clutching her belly. “Michael… it’s time!” she gasped, gripping his hand.
As Michael guided Kira to the car, Margaret watched, her heart pounding with worry for her daughter.
“Take a cab,” Michael said firmly. “I don’t want either of you stressing Kira out with more arguments.” With that, he helped Kira into the car, then got in and drove off without waiting for their reply.
Margaret huffed. “Well, we can take my car.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Rebecca nodded, looking tired herself. “Fine, let’s go.”
When they arrived at the hospital, the nurse informed them that only Michael was allowed in the room with Kira. Margaret and Rebecca found two chairs in the hallway and sat down, an uncomfortable silence stretching between them. They fidgeted, glanced around, and avoided each other’s eyes.
Finally, Margaret cleared her throat. “I think we need a truce,” she said quietly. “We almost ruined Thanksgiving, and if Kira hadn’t gone into labor… well, we would have ruined it for her.”
Rebecca nodded slowly, her face softening. “I agree. I don’t want my granddaughter thinking her grandma’s a nutcase.” She paused, then looked at Margaret directly. “So, peace?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Margaret nodded, extending her hand. “Peace,” she repeated.
Rebecca took her hand, giving it a firm shake.
Just then, Michael stepped out, smiling. “You can see your granddaughter now,” he said, motioning for them to come in.
Both women leapt up, hurrying to the room. Inside, Kira lay on the hospital bed, smiling, with a tiny bundle cradled in her arms.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Rebecca leaned over, her eyes filling with tears. “She’s beautiful,” she said softly.
Margaret nodded, reaching out to touch the baby’s tiny hand. “And she looks like both of you,” she added with a smile.
A nurse walked in, carrying a tray. “Dinner for the new mom,” she announced, setting it on the bedside table. “Since it’s Thanksgiving, we went with a holiday-themed meal.” The tray held slices of turkey, mashed potatoes with gravy, and green peas.

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Margaret chuckled. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a new Thanksgiving tradition.”
“No way!” Kira exclaimed with a laugh. “I am not going through this every year!”
Everyone burst out laughing, and though it wasn’t the Thanksgiving they’d planned, it was the one they truly needed.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
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: When Rick returns to his small hometown after his grandmother’s passing, he inherits her old bookstore—a place full of memories from his childhood. But as he starts cleaning, he uncovers hidden secrets about his grandmother’s life that change everything. Read the full story here.
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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