A rich man and an older woman are linked by a strange twist of fate, which they discover after four years of living under the same roof.
The heavy pattering rain on the window and the thunderous boom playing in the sky distracted Dylan, who was busy on his laptop. In a rage, he marched to the living room window to close the curtains when he noticed something odd.
A woman stood drenched and shivering in the pouring rain, staring at his house. Even in the darkness of the evening, he could make out her frail figure, trembling from the cold outside.
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“Lyra, honey!” he called out to his wife. “Did you call someone home?”
“No, I didn’t, Dylan,” she replied, joining him at the window. “Who’s there?”
“Do we know her?” he asked. “That woman out there… she’s just standing in the rain.”
Lyra looked out the window and shook her head. “I don’t know… she seems old. Let’s ask her if she needs any help.”
So Dylan and Lyra went downstairs and outside, carrying an extra umbrella and blanket for the older woman.
As soon as the older woman saw them, Dylan noticed a panic in her eyes.
A mother loves her child no matter what.
“Ma’am, are you alright?” asked Dylan, sheltering her under the spare umbrella. “Can we help you with something?”
“Oh well, I don’t know…” she said. “I—I don’t have a place to live here. I’m new in town and have no idea where to go…”
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The woman didn’t have any luggage, which confused Dylan and Lyra. She could be faking it all, they thought. And they had two kids at home. They didn’t want to risk their safety by letting a stranger in, but something about the woman told Dylan she wasn’t a threat.
“Do you have any family we could contact, ma’am?” asked Lyra. “We could call the police.”
“Oh no, no,” she cried out. “I don’t have a family… I came here looking for a job, children… I don’t know why I—I just stopped here. I should leave…”
“It’s alright!” Dylan stopped her. “Come on in. You’ll get sick out in the cold. Have some tea with us.”
So Dylan and Lyra brought her inside. Lyra gave her some of her mother’s old clothes, and after the older woman had dried up and changed, they all had tea together.
“I’m Marlene,” the old woman told Lyra and Dylan, who had discussed hiring her as a maid back in the kitchen. She seemed fine, and Lyra needed help with the house chores.
“Thank you for the tea,” said Marlene. “I really needed it.”
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“So you said you came here looking for work?” asked Lyra. “Would you like to work for us? We have two kids who are asleep right now. You could meet them in the morning, and I need help with the house.”
“Really?” asked Marlene. “Would you really hire me?”
“Well, why not?” Dylan said. “So long as you’re fine with it. We’ll also need your information… any ID… We can’t just keep anyone home.”
“Oh, OK,” Marlene said. “But I would need help with that. I was robbed right after leaving the station, so I’d need a laptop or something… I was wise enough to save digital copies.”
“Perfect!” smiled Dylan. “You can rest in the guest bedroom tonight, Marlene…”
That was four years ago. Marlene started working as a maid at Dylan and Lyra’s house four years ago after Dylan sheltered her from the rain, but she quickly became like family to them. Their children, Aaron and Lisa, affectionately called her “Ganma Marlene,” and the entire family adored her.
But on her birthday that year, everything changed. Dylan and Lyra planned a lavish celebration for Marlene and invited everyone they knew.
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Marlene blew out the candles, had the most lovely dinner with her family, and received tons of precious gifts.
After everyone left, she was busy unwrapping the gifts with Aaron and Lisa. Meanwhile, Dylan went to her room to retrieve something and noticed her laptop was left on.
He was about to close it when a message on her social profile on Facebook caught his attention.
“Happy birthday, dearest Marlene! I hope you’re having the best days of your life now that you’ve found your son. Your little boy, he must love you so much!”
Dylan felt like his heart had dropped to the floor. 28 years ago, he was heartlessly abandoned by his mother on the doorstep of a shelter when he was just a little boy of three. She never came looking for her, and he could never find her. He knew nothing about her.
Shocked, Dylan walked into the living room and saw Marlene smiling and playing with her children. He was disgusted and enraged.
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“Marlene!” he cried. “Why did you do that? Just why?”
Marlene turned around and saw Dylan crying.
“Honey,” said Lyra, concerned. “What’s the matter? Why are you crying?”
“I’d like to know the truth, Marlene. Or should I call you ‘mom?'”
“What?” gasped Lyra. “Mom?”
Marlene’s eyes welled up. “I’m sorry, Dylan,” she said. “I didn’t want to deceive you all these years. I am sorry.”
“What else have you lied about, huh?” he yelled. “Tell me, goddammit! Why did you do it? Why did you come here and hurt me again?”
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“Dylan…” whispered Marlene. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t have a choice. You were a three-year-old boy… you needed a loving home, and I would never have been able to give you that. I was diagnosed with cancer, and I never thought I’d live through it, Dylan. So I had to let you go. I came to take you when my cancer went into remission, but it was too late.
“A wealthy family had taken you in, and they said you were happy. I was happy for you, Dylan, so I stayed away and watched you from afar all these years. Look at you; you are rich and successful today. It’s due to their upbringing. I’m so thankful to them…and I’m sorry. I don’t know why I couldn’t hold myself back when you took me in four years ago… I just couldn’t… I was scared to tell you the truth… I’m sorry…”
“OUT!” yelled Dylan. “Don’t you think you’re too mean to deserve such kindness? You can’t just walk into my life and then walk out. Just leave!”
“Dylan, honey,” said Lyra. “Let’s talk about it—”
“It’s OK, Lyra,” Marlene said in tears. “I deserve this. I shouldn’t have kept you all in the dark. I am sorry.”
And Marlene left Dylan’s house that evening. The kids asked Lyra and Dylan why Ganma Darlene left, and all Dylan told them was, “Because she wasn’t your grandmother! She was a liar!”
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A week later, Dylan regretted saying that. He found out that Marlene was not the biological mother who had abandoned him.
Dylan chanced upon Marlene’s Facebook profile on the laptop because she hadn’t logged out, and he read another message her friend Linda had left her.
“You should tell him the truth, Marlene. How devastated will he be to learn that he has lost his mother twice? He deserves to know that his mother abandoned him in a park and that you took him in. He will love you, Marlene. He really will…”
Dylan couldn’t believe what he had read. He went through her entire profile in tears, reading Linda’s messages, and guess what? He found out Marlene had been living only a few blocks away from him.
Dylan rushed to her home, and as soon as she answered the door, he cried his heart out and hugged her.
“Mom,” he sobbed. “I love you! I’m so sorry, Mom… I am just so sorry. Why didn’t you tell me you’re not my biological mother? You… you saved me!”
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“How would it matter, Dylan?” she asked, hugging him back. “I loved you like my son, and it pained me when I left you. I did abandon you… I was no different from your mother, except I left you because I loved you.”
“You’re coming home,” he said. “That’s all I want. I love you.”
What can we learn from this story?
- A mother loves her child no matter what. The fact that Dylan wasn’t Marlene’s blood didn’t matter to her because, at her heart, she was a mother who just wanted to give her son all the love she could.
- Making a sacrifice is never easy, but it is sometimes the only way out. Marlene had let Dylan go because she loved him enough to put his interests above hers.
Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.
TO MY WONDERFUL HUSBAND — THANK YOU!
The room buzzed with a gentle warmth, a symphony of soft chatter and the clinking of glasses. Sunlight streamed through the windows, illuminating the silver strands in her hair as she stood, a gentle smile gracing her lips. “To my wonderful husband,” she began, her voice a little shaky, a little breathless, but filled with an undeniable love.
Fifty-five years. Fifty-five years of shared laughter, whispered secrets, and weathered storms. Fifty-five years of building a life, brick by brick, with the man standing beside her, his hand warm in hers.
“I truly love my husband,” she continued, her eyes glistening. “And I am so grateful for our 55 years of marriage. Our life hasn’t always been easy, has it, darling?” She turned to him, her smile widening. “But he has always been by my side, through every storm, every challenge, every joy.”
She remembered the early days, the cramped apartment, the late nights spent huddled over textbooks, their dreams as big as the sky. He had worked tirelessly, his hands calloused and strong, to provide for their growing family. She remembered the birth of their first child, the overwhelming rush of love, the fear, the sheer wonder of it all.
“Together,” she said, her voice filled with pride, “we raised five wonderful children. And now, we are blessed with eleven grandchildren!”
The room erupted in applause, a wave of affection washing over them. She remembered the chaos of raising five children, the constant hum of activity, the endless piles of laundry, the scraped knees and bedtime stories. He had been her rock, her partner, her equal.
“He has always been an incredible partner in parenting,” she said, her voice softening. “Reading to our kids, changing diapers, playing with them, and putting them to bed when I was overwhelmed. He never hesitated to help, whether it was inside or outside the house.”
She remembered the late nights, the whispered conversations over cups of tea, the shared dreams and anxieties. He had always listened, truly listened, his eyes filled with understanding. And she, in turn, had listened to him, offering her own brand of comfort and support.
“He does laundry,” she chuckled, a hint of playful amusement in her voice. “He cleans when I’m not feeling well, and even cooks a few times a week, simply because he enjoys it.”
She remembered the Sunday mornings, the smell of pancakes and bacon filling the house, the sound of his cheerful whistling as he worked in the kitchen. She remembered the evenings spent in the garden, their hands stained with earth, planting, weeding, and harvesting together.
“And when it comes to our garden,” she said, her eyes sparkling, “he’s right there with me, every step of the way.”
She remembered the quiet moments, the stolen glances, the unspoken understanding that flowed between them. Their marriage was a tapestry woven with shared experiences, mutual respect, and an unwavering love.
“He listens to me, and I listen to him,” she said, her voice filled with warmth. “Our marriage has always been about partnership and mutual respect.”
She looked at him, her heart overflowing with gratitude. “Today,” she said, her voice trembling, “I just want to thank him in front of everyone, just like I thank him every day, for being by my side.”
The room erupted in applause once more, a standing ovation this time. He stood beside her, his eyes filled with love, his hand squeezing hers gently. He was her anchor, her confidante, her best friend. And she, in turn, was his.
As they sat down, surrounded by their children and grandchildren, she felt a profound sense of contentment. Their life, though filled with challenges, had been a beautiful journey, a testament to the enduring power of love. And she knew, with unwavering certainty, that she wouldn’t have changed a single moment of it.
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