Girl Throws Away Cheap Old Ring Her Poor Grandma Gave Her, It Suddenly Opens — Story of the Day

"What's this? Some old, cheap ring in a pathetic-looking box? You were greedy then, and you'll always be! Out from my wedding!" Emma hissed at her poor old granny when she got a small red box as her wedding present. The young woman threw it away in disgust, but when the box clicked open, she stood back in shock.

Emma was getting married, and a part of her couldn't believe it. Her fiancé, Dylan, was a loving, caring, and accomplished man, so when he popped the question to Emma after their whirlwind courtship, she gladly said, "Yes!"

After taking the wedding vows and finishing the rituals came the time for the bride and groom's performance. All eyes were set on Emma and Dylan as they danced together, and Emma felt like she was on top of the world.

Then as the performance drew closer to the end, she noticed the hotel manager, Mr. Scotliff, rushing toward her and Dylan.

"I'm very sorry for intruding on this lovely couple, but I wouldn't have if it weren't a pressing matter," he said shakily.

Dylan and Emma exchanged a confused glance.

"I don't understand…what's wrong, sir?" Dylan asked.

"Someone has been asking to meet your fiancée, sir. A woman. We can't let her in because she's not on the guest list. But she insists on meeting you, ma'am. Martha…that's what she told me her name was," said the manager.

"Gran?" Emma gasped. "What is she doing here?"

"We tried talking to her, but she wouldn't leave until she met you," Mr. Scotliff admitted helplessly.

Emma sighed. "Actually, I'll take care of it. I'll be right back, Dylan."

"Wait, Emma, are you sure you'll be OK by yourself?" he asked. "I can come with you."

Emma smiled. "I'll be fine. I got this."

Emma lifted her wedding gown and hurried out the hall after Mr. Scotliff.

Martha's delicate face brightened with a smile as she looked at her granddaughter from head to toe.

Emma looked gorgeous in her wedding dress!

"Oh, my beautiful baby! You look just perfect, darling," Martha smiled, reaching for Emma's hand, but the young woman stepped back.

"Why are you here? Aren't you done ruining my life?" Emma snarled. "I don't think I ever invited you!"

Martha nodded in tears. "I know, darling. I wasn't invited, but I couldn't help but come. You see, I don't have a thousand granddaughters."

"I didn't sign up for your emotional drama! I have to go," Emma said, turning around to leave, but she wouldn't until she had vented out all her frustration on Martha.

"By the way, Gran, don't be too upset about not being on the wedding guest list!" she snapped, turning to face Martha.

"It's not just you who's missing from that list! I think you've forgotten about my dad. He isn't present here either! Have you forgotten your sins?"

Martha lowered her eyes to hide her tears.

"I'm sorry, dear..." she whispered. "I do regret what I did. And you can hate me, darling, if that soothes your heart. You've still got your parents watching over you from heaven, sweetheart! They must be so proud of the lovely woman you've become! I only came over to give you a wedding gift, darling," Martha approached Emma and handed her a jewelry box.

"This was all I could get you," she said, holding her hands. "I hope you like it."

"What is this?" Emma said disgustingly as she looked at the red jewelry box. "A tiny piece of cheap jewelry? How did you get it in the first place? Did you steal it from someone?"

"Oh dear, I—" Before Martha would finish, Emma cut her off.

"If it weren't for your greed, my father would be here today! And he would've been the happiest to see me get married. He would walk me down the aisle, and…" Emma's tears choked her as she continued.

"Just get lost! I don't want to see you ever again!"

"I hope you don't hate me forever, sweetheart," Martha said sadly. "Please know that I have always adored you."

The older woman then walked away from Emma, leaning on her cane.

As Emma stood there alone, she couldn't help but think about the day that had planted so much hatred and disgust in her heart for Martha.

Years ago, on that day, Emma was at the lawyer's office. Her palms were sweaty from nervousness, and her heart was racing in her chest as her father's lawyer, Mr. Morgan, walked in.

"Emma, I'm afraid it's not good news," the lawyer said, sitting across from her.

"Your father's case isn't progressing as we had expected it would."

"He's not going to jail, is he?" Emma asked, horrified.

"Not yet," Mr. Morgan replied. "But I'm not sure how long it will be before he does. The truth is, we don't have any options right now. But luckily, we got one last choice. The plaintiff is willing to enter into a pre-trial agreement. If we agree to compensate them, we can save your father. Here," Mr. Morgan scribbled something on a scrap of paper and handed it to Emma.

"Oh no! But this is…" Emma's hands went to her mouth in shock as she glanced at the note.

Mr. Morgan had written the compensation amount, and it was huge. She would never be able to afford that kind of money.

"I…I don't have so much money. And I don't know how I'll get it, Mr. Morgan. Do we not have another way out? I'm sure there must be something..." Emma asked desperately.

Mr. Morgan let out a sigh. "We have this one chance to get your father's name cleared, dear. If I were you, I would do anything in my power to save him. Take out a loan, ask a friend…you know, do whatever you can. This is our last shot, Emma. Now if you'll excuse me…I have other folks waiting for me outside."

Emma was devastated as she left Mr. Morgan's office that day. She didn't have any friends who could loan her such a huge amount, and her part-time job paid her peanuts.

The girl had no idea how she would get the money until…she remembered Gran Martha. Emma was confident Gran Martha would help her out as it was about family.

So she went straight to her grandmother's house from the lawyer's office.

"Emma?" The older woman was surprised to see an exhausted, panting Emma on her doorstep. "What's happened to you, honey? Oh dear, you look so pale! Let me guess…it's the lawyer! What did he say?"

"I ran the entire distance. I need help, Gran," Emma said breathlessly. "If I don't pay the plaintiff, Dad will go to jail. I can somehow manage half the money if I really, really beg my boss and friends, and I need you to contribute, but the thing is..."

"Oh, relax, relax, darling! Come inside!" Martha opened the door wider.

Emma walked past her grandmother and sat on the couch.

Martha got her some water, and Emma heaved a sigh of relief. Then she told her everything, about how desperately she needed her help.

"Oh, Emma, but I really don't think I can help you," Martha shook her head. "I don't have all that money you want! I'm barely making ends meet, darling. And I hardly save anything after the utility bills and groceries in this economy…Oh, it's been tough."

"Please, Gran," Emma begged, holding Martha's hands. "You can help me! I don't know who else to turn to. I was thinking….maybe you could sell the bakery?

"Anyway, it's hardly profitable for you, and you said you had it on your mind last year…selling it off. I have some of Mom's old jewelry that I can pawn, and I'll ask my boss and friends for the rest."

Martha didn't budge.

"I'm sorry, honey," she replied, withdrawing her hand from Emma's. "I…I don't think I can do that. That bakery is all I have!"

"Gran!" Emma cried. "It's about Dad! Do you want him to rot in prison?"

"Well, I never thought we were supposed to look out for one another. I never asked him to support me after your grandfather died! Now, should I give up on my bread and butter for his crimes?" Martha frowned.

"Oh, c'mon, Gran!" Emma jumped to her feet. "He's family, and you still won't help him?"

"I know you'll hate me, Emma, but my answer won't change," Martha said sternly, looking away from her granddaughter. "You are wasting your time here, sweetheart. Selling the bakery is out of the question! Sorry, but that's all I have to say!"

Emma couldn't believe it.

"I HATE YOU, Gran! I hate you!" she screamed as she dashed out the front door.

And she never went back to Martha's house. In fact, that day, Emma sank onto a random sidewalk and cried her heart out, knowing she had lost another loved one. Her father was all she had now.

Emma's mother died when she was only three, so Emma's dad raised her. But now that he needed help, she found herself helpless. She still had time on her hands to get the money, but she had no idea how she would do it.

But Emma tried. She asked practically everyone she knew but couldn't raise the amount she needed.

When her dad was sent to prison, Emma visited him regularly, telling him how much she missed him back home.

One day, months after her father was sentenced to prison, Emma got a call. She was stocking up for the month at the local grocery store when her phone began to ring.

"Hello," Emma answered.

"Am I speaking with Mr. Colby's daughter?" a man's voice appeared on the other end of the line. "This is Inspector Harrison, ma'am."

"Yes? What is this about?" Emma asked.

Emma listened in shock and horror as Officer Harrison continued.

"I'm very sorry, ma'am," he said. "Your father...I don't know how to say this, but...he died late last night. He experienced a heart attack, and the paramedics couldn't save him."

Emma's grocery bags slipped through her fingers. She could barely process what she had heard. She somehow got herself a taxi and headed to the station, thinking it was all a bad dream. Her father couldn't be dead!

But as Emma arrived and saw her father's pale body under the thin white linen, her tears didn't stop. She felt as if her heart had stopped beating, and she didn't have a purpose to live!

Emma would never forgive her grandmother. As she wrapped her arms around her father's still body and cried, she couldn't stop cursing Martha.

If that woman had sold that damned bakery, Jonathan would be alive!

Emma organized her father's funeral and bid him goodbye. But she visited him every single day to tell him how much she missed him.

"Hi, Dad! How are you doing today?" she'd ask, running her fingertips across the etching on the cold stone.

"In the beloved memory of Jonathan," it read.

And with every visit to Johathan's grave, Emma's anger towards Martha only deepened.

"I'm sorry, Dad," she would then tell him. "I'm back to tell you that your daughter was a bad daughter. I'm sorry I couldn't help you."

And Emma would replace the old wilted flowers with fresh ones and sit with her father until the sun settled behind the skies and the moon took over. Then she'd head home and return the next day.

"Emma! Emma!" Dylan's voice snapped Emma out of her thoughts.

"Uh, huh, what…what happened?" she asked, confused.

"Where's your Gran?" he asked, looking about. "Didn't you say you were going to meet her?"

"She left…" Emma sighed. "For good. Let's head inside."

As she was leaving, Emma realized her hands weren't empty.

She looked down and noticed she was still holding the little box Martha had given her.

"Emma, are you OK?" Dylan asked, touching her shoulder.

Emma's eyes welled up, but she nodded. "More than ever, Dylan," she said. "More than ever!"

Emma was filled with disgust as she looked at the old jewelry box in her hands. "What an ugly thing!" she cried, throwing it away.

"Oh god!" Dylan gasped. "Why would you do that?"

The box snapped open as it landed on the ground, and a ring rolled out.

Emma noticed the giant emerald stone on the ring had fallen off, and something spilled from under it.

A slew of tiny, glittering stones had fallen out and lay scattered on the ground.

"Wait, is that…" Emma couldn't believe her eyes as she knelt down to pick up the stones.

They were not just shiny stones. They were diamonds. REAL diamonds.

"How did she afford this?" Emma wondered aloud. "They're diamonds, Dylan!"

"Wait, what's this…" Dylan picked up the folded piece of paper that had fallen near the box.

As he untied the crimson ribbon around it and unfolded it, he realized it was a note from Martha.

"You should read this, Emma," Dylan suggested, his eyes fixed on the paper. "Right now."

Emma took the note from Dylan and began reading...

"Dear Emma," it began. "My beautiful baby girl…Oh, my heart aches to think it might be the last time I'm calling you that. I know you hate me for what I did, dear. I never wanted to tell you the truth this way, but I don't think the Lord has left me with a choice.

"Your father was not a nice man, Emma. He did some awful things and always got into trouble! When you came to me and asked me to help him, I didn't have the heart to tell you what type of man he was because you had looked up to him your entire life.

"I know I could have saved your father from prison, but he didn't deserve my kindness, nor did he deserve yours. This wasn't his first trip to the jail. He kept things from you…things I don't want to talk about.

"I didn't sell the bakery because I wanted to save money for your brighter future. I knew how broken you'd be once your father left to serve for his deeds. I was devastated, darling, when I learned he had died. But can we change fate?

"I don't know if you'll let go of the hatred in your heart for me, but I wanted to give you the loveliest wedding present. The second half of your gift will be given to you by my lawyer. I wish you a blissful and happy married life, Emma. You should know your grandmother loved you.

— Love, Martha."

"Oh, my god…" Emma gasped, and hot tears rolled down her cheeks. "Dylan, I've done something terrible! Something very, very, terrible!"

The next day, Emma drove to Martha's house. She knew it had been two years since she had visited her, but she was hopeful that after all this time, she could still reconcile with her grandma.

But as Emma pulled over in front of Martha's house, she saw two big trucks parked outside.

"Packers & Movers," read the label on them.

Then Emma saw a young couple in Martha's yard.

"Excuse me?" she asked one of the men unloading furniture from the truck. "I'm sorry, but what's happening here? This is my grandmother's house! Who are those people in the front yard?"

"Uh, I have no idea about your granny, lady...I'm just here on consignment. We help families move," the man shrugged. "Anyway, I gotta go!"

Desperate for answers, Emma knocked on the door of Martha's next-door neighbor, an elderly widow named Judy.

A few minutes later, the door opened, and Judy appeared.

"Oh my, my!" she gasped, lowering her glasses. "Is that you, Emma?"

"Hi, Judy! Umm, how are you?" Emma asked with a smile.

"Oh, wonderful as ever. What are you doing here, darling? I was saddened to hear about Martha," Judy said as Emma followed her inside.

"What? What do you mean?" Emma's heart skipped a beat. "What happened to Gran?"

"Oh!" Judy pursed her lips. "So, you don't know? Martha moved out a week ago. Or was it two weeks ago?"

"Weeks ago?" asked Emma. "But why? Why did she move out?"

"Oh, honey," Judy sighed. "Martha was very lonely, especially after her diagnosis."

"What?" Emma gasped. "But Gran…didn't tell me anything!"

"Oh, maybe she didn't want to worry you. She was ill. Stage 4 cancer, the doctors said," Judy said sadly.

"Oh, my God! Judy, tell me, where is she?" Emma demanded. "She sold the house…and she came to meet me yesterday, saying she wanted to give me the last present…She gave me all that she had!"

"Oh, that's so like your grandmother," Judy said, shaking her head. "She loved you with all her heart.

"All her conversations were about you, around you. She could have paid for treatment and tried to live a little longer. And I asked her why she wasn't doing it. She said she was saving all the money for you, that she wouldn't use it for herself."

"I can't believe this. All this while, I had no idea…" Emma whispered. "I want to see her. Please tell me, where is she?"

"Frank's. Her old friend. I hope you have all your answers now!" Judy finished rather stiffly, making Emma realize what she had done.

Emma looked into Judy's sad eyes and felt guilty. She had hated the woman who loved her the most in the world. Emma hated the woman who refused to get treated and didn't mind dying for her. She had hated the woman whose last wish was to see her granddaughter!

Emma left Judy's house in tears and drove to "Frank's," the local motel. When she was rather young, her parents and Martha often visited it for holidays. But the motel had degraded in recent years, and their business was slowing down.

Emma's tears wouldn't stop as she drove all the way, hoping to hold her grandmother tightly and tell her she was sorry.

She would beg for her forgiveness and see her petite face lit up with a small smile, a smile she would cherish all her life, and then she would never leave her alone, never part with her grandmother.

Emma dashed to the reception as she arrived. "Martha…or maybe, Mrs. Delaney... She must have booked a room some nights ago," she told the receptionist.

"And you are…" asked the woman, searching the records. "Yes, she has, but—"

"I'm her granddaughter!" Emma replied hastily. "What's her room number?"

"Ma'am…" The receptionist rose to her feet. "We thought she didn't have any family. We didn't find anything in her luggage that pointed us to any relatives. She passed away last night…in one of our rooms. Sorry."

What can we learn from this story?

• Love and respect your grandparents. They care for you more than you'll ever know. Although Emma despised Martha all her life, the older woman never stopped caring for her granddaughter. She even sacrificed her life for Emma, but it was too late by the time Emma learned to appreciate Martha.
• Life is too short to hold grudges. Just as Emma believed she had everything under control, she found her grandma was gone, far away from her to a place from where there was no coming back. Emma could never forgive herself for what she had done.

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If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a father who is mocked by his sons for being 'deaf-mute' while splitting the inheritance until he says, 'My turn!'

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. If you would like to share your story, please send it to info@amomama.com.