Dysfunctional families affect the quality of life of each of the members, especially the children. These troubled relationships cause chronic feelings of guilt, shame, or worthlessness, as well as attachment issues.
The teenager who shared her story on Reddit some time ago comes from such a family where the father is basically absent from his children’s lives despite living under one roof with them.
She took to the Reddit thread AITA to explain that it was her mother who took care of her and her siblings while the father wasn’t really involved in their upbringing.
One day, as he got home and left his mobile phone on the table, OP could read the message that he received at that moment which said, “last night was amazing, can’t wait to see you again” and some emojis.
After thinking about it for a short time, she decided to tell her mother that her dad was cheating on her. “She got pretty emotional which I felt bad about, and told me not to worry and that I should just worry about being a kid and let her take care of the rest, so I just let it go cause I didn’t want to hurt her more.”
One evening, the entire family gathered for dinner at OP’s grandfathers. There, her cousin shared the news that she started a new job. Everyone was pleased with the news, but then OP’s father told OP that she should be more like her cousin because she wasn’t any good according to him. But he didn’t stop there. In fact, he continued shaming OP telling her she should focus more on school and a lot more.
At one moment he mentioned that OP lacked respect for him, and that was the final straw.
At this point, OP had it enough. “Hard to respect you when you openly cheat on Mom and don’t even try to hide it,” she said in front of everyone.
The room went silent at first, but then her father started yelling both at her and her mother. The mom then took her kids and told her husband she shouldn’t be returning home.
Once home, OP started receiving text messages from her relatives who accused her of ruining the evening and the family. Her mom, however, told her “that she understood my frustration and I probably should have expressed it better privately but what’s done is done.”
Redditors were quick to comment that OP was NTA.
What are your thoughts on this?
A POOR BOY SAVED A RICH MAN’S LIFE—THE NEXT DAY, HE AND HIS ILL MOTHER FOUND A BAG SENT BY THAT SAME MAN ON THEIR PORCH.
The dust of the country road swirled around Martin’s worn sandals as he trudged home, his stomach growling with the familiar pangs of hunger. He was a wisp of a boy, barely ten years old, with eyes that held the weight of too many hardships. His mother, frail and perpetually ill, relied on him for everything, from gathering firewood to earning meager coins from odd jobs.
As he rounded a bend, a sleek, black automobile roared past, kicking up a cloud of dust that stung his eyes. He coughed, waving his hand to clear the air, and then noticed the car had stopped further down the road. It was angled awkwardly, half on the pavement, half in the ditch. A figure slumped inside.
Curiosity piqued, Martin ran towards the car. Inside, a man, dressed in fine clothes, was choking, his face turning an alarming shade of purple. He was clutching his throat, his eyes wide with panic. Martin recognized him; it was Sylvester Thorne, the wealthy landowner whose grand estate loomed over their humble village.
Without hesitation, Martin grabbed a rock from the roadside and smashed the car window. Glass shattered everywhere as he reached in to unlock the door. “Stand back!” he shouted, pulling Sylvester out onto the pavement.
Sylvester was gasping, his hands still clutching his throat. Martin knew he had to act quickly. He remembered a trick he’d seen his father use once, a desperate measure. With all his might, Martin delivered several sharp blows to Sylvester’s back. Suddenly, a chunk of apple flew from Sylvester’s mouth, and he gasped for air, his lungs finally filling with air.
The rich man looked at the boy with tears in his eyes and kept thanking him for saving his life, his voice hoarse. “You… you saved my life, boy. I… I owe you everything.”
Martin, flustered by the man’s gratitude, simply nodded. “Just glad you’re alright, sir.” And then, he turned and walked away, his stomach still growling, his mind already turning to the task of finding something for his mother to eat.
The next morning, Martin was jolted awake by his sister, Lily’s, excited screams. “Marty! Marty! Come quick!”
He rushed outside, his mother calling after them in confusion, her voice weak but laced with concern. There, on their doorstep, sat a large, brown bag. It was tied with a silken ribbon, a stark contrast to the rough, worn wood of their porch.
Lily, her eyes wide with wonder, tugged at the ribbon. Martin cautiously untied it, and the contents spilled out: a loaf of fresh bread, a basket of plump, red apples, a jar of honey, and a small pouch filled with coins. At the bottom of the bag, a folded note lay nestled amongst the food.
Martin unfolded it, his eyes scanning the elegant script. “To Martin, for your bravery and kindness. From Sylvester Thorne.”
His mother, her face etched with a mixture of relief and astonishment, reached for the bread, her fingers trembling. “It’s from Mr. Thorne,” Martin said, his voice hushed. “He remembered.”
The food was a godsend. They hadn’t had a proper meal in days. The coins, though few, were enough to buy medicine for his mother and some seeds for their small garden. But it was more than just the material goods. It was the knowledge that someone, especially someone as powerful as Sylvester Thorne, had seen their plight and cared.
News of Martin’s heroism spread through the village like wildfire. People who had once turned a blind eye to their poverty now offered smiles and words of encouragement. Even the gruff baker, who had always refused them credit, gave them a warm loaf of bread and a wink.
Sylvester Thorne, true to his word, didn’t forget Martin. He visited their small cottage, his presence filling the cramped space with an air of grandeur. He spoke to Martin’s mother, his voice gentle and respectful. He offered to pay for her medical treatment and to send Martin to school.
Martin, overwhelmed by the man’s generosity, looked at his mother, her eyes shining with hope. She nodded, her lips forming a silent “yes.”
Life changed for Martin and his family. His mother’s health improved, and he excelled in school, his sharp mind eager to learn. He never forgot the day he saved Sylvester Thorne, nor the kindness that followed. He understood that even in the midst of hardship, a single act of courage and compassion could change everything. And Sylvester Thorne, in return, learned that true wealth wasn’t measured in possessions, but in the lives he touched and the gratitude he received.
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