Stranger Fills up Cart of Elderly Man Who Can’t Buy Groceries, They Meet Again Later in Private Jet — Story of the Day

Walter can't afford to pay for groceries, but a stranger swoops in and helps. Years later, the table turns, and Walter helps and meets him on a private jet. He asks him a question that will change his life only if he knows the answer.

Annoyed by the persistent ringing of his phone on the table, Walter glared at it, reluctant to answer.

He already knew who it was and how nothing good was bound to come out of the conversation.

He was broke and had even borrowed a little money to give his wife a befitting burial. Now, his lenders were on the brink of banging down his doors.

It wasn't a lot of money, but he didn't have much money to begin with.

Living in a small town, Walter had spent his entire life working as a teacher alongside his late wife, Sharon, who shared the same profession.

The phone eventually stopped ringing, but Walter felt no relief as the weight of his financial troubles loomed over him like a shadow.

Looking around, Walter quickly scanned the groceries he had left for the week and was sorely disappointed.

With a few meager items left – a can of beans, half a box of crackers, and a dwindling supply of tea – the reality of his financial struggles sank in.

The ticking of the old wall clock punctuated the silence around him.

It was a few minutes to midnight, but the gnawing emptiness in his belly kept him awake.

"Should I just scramble together something to eat?" he wondered aloud with the full knowledge that by morning, he would have to pay the price.

He pondered over it for a few more seconds before deciding. Whispering under his breath as he made his way to the stove.

"Today is all there is; tomorrow might never come!" He sighed, getting ready to cook and sleep with a full belly.

An action he would come to regret the following day.

He woke up pretty early and got ready to go out.

For years, he had volunteered to teach at homeless shelters on weekends, especially now that he was alone; Walter didn't see the need to stop.

Dressed, he stepped out of his house after again taking an inventory of the food items he had to survive on.

"I need to go shopping," he whispered as he stepped out of the house and made his way to the bus station.

From Monday, he'd be busy teaching private lessons he got paid for, and Walter worried that he might starve before then.

The shelter was just as crowded as he remembered it, identifying the people he came to meet the second he stepped in.

They swarmed to his side with visible excitement, unlike his first day there, where he met with skepticism.

The shelter's residents, worn out by their circumstances, had eyed him cautiously.

His dressing was better, he looked well-fed, and he had no reason to stay even after the usual volunteers and food service providers were done.

"Leave him alone! He'll soon leave," Tom, who later became his favorite student, sneered from the side, making it clear that Walter wasn't welcome.

"We've had people like him come and go. He won't last a week."

Undeterred, Walter set up a makeshift classroom and a space to easily pass on some basic knowledge the adults needed.

Weeks later, with his determination and consistency, he convinced everyone there to trust him.

"Are you leaving so soon?" Sarah asked as tears pooled in her big blue eyes, a look that usually worked to make Walter stay a while longer.

"I'll be back next week. I promise," Walter replied, patting her head gently as he watched her and all the other kids crowd around him.

He taught the adults first, but leaving the children was always more challenging; they always refused to let him go.

"You can let go of my leg now, Theodore." Walter sighed, feeling the young boy grip his legs even tighter than before.

"No!"

"Theodore, if I don't leave now, how will I return with the sweets and goodies I promised you?" Walter asked with a light smile, trying to pry the boy off him but to no avail.

"Theodore, let go!" Joey, who stood beside him, told him.

"Think of the sweets," Sarah said from the side, on the verge of tears.

Walter smiled, looking around for help from the adults there, but none of them so much as moved a muscle to help.

"You should come around more often if you don't want them to make a fuss," Tom told him when he finally got the children off him.

"I might," Walter responded with a slightly more sober expression. His wife was dead, and his only child was miles away, battling health issues Walter couldn't help with.

Spending more time here might help, Walter thought as he said his goodbyes.

It was already mid-afternoon, and his stomach groaned in protest from the treatment it received.

Walter hadn't touched the food at the shelter. He wasn't sure it would go around because of how crowded the place had been, and he regretted it.

After leaving the shelter, Walter quickly made his way to a small restaurant and ate a little food before going to the grocery store.

Winter was near, and the air was cold, though snow hadn't begun falling in earnest.

Wearing a thick coat to keep himself warm, Walter went to the grocery store closest to him.

With a shopping cart in one hand, he made his way to the racks while mentally going through the basics of what he needed to buy.

Walter paced the aisles, mentally calculating his dwindling budget.

I need cereal, but the fancy ones are out. Generic it is, he thought, eyeing the shelves.

Reaching the canned goods section, he began a mental conversation with himself all over again.

Beans are cheap protein, but two cans this time. Pasta is versatile and affordable; I'll take more.

Staring at the dairy section, he debated.

Milk's a must, but the smaller carton will do. Let's skip the cheese this week.

Walter couldn't help but sigh heavily when he got to the produce section as he wondered why everything appeared to be more expensive than the last time he was there.

Fruits are healthy, but these prices are becoming a little ridiculous—just a few apples for now.

The household essentials section posed its challenges.

Toilet paper is a must, but the bulk pack is too pricey. Single rolls it is, he resolved, adding them to the cart with a sense of compromise.

His struggle was evident as he wrestled with his choices and budget.

Although he needed to cut down on many things, there were some things he couldn't help but buy.

Lost in his world, muttering in a low voice, Walter was utterly unaware of the person behind him.

He had been following the same path as him from the canned session and had an amused expression as he heard Walter continue to grumble to himself.

Even toothpaste is expensive. I'd rather go for a more basic one and brush my teeth twice as hard and go for a more basic one.

Walter had a slightly annoyed expression as he picked up a cheaper toothpaste, his eyes lingering on the one he liked before looking away.

After a few more minutes, Walter was sure he had all he needed and slowly approached one of the checkout counters.

It's a lean list, but it should get me through the remaining half of the month before I get paid, he reassured himself, though worry still lingered in his eyes as he mentally tallied the costs.

"I'll be fine," he sighed as he joined the queue and patiently waited his turn.

He was still waiting with only two people in front of him when he suddenly heard his phone beep.

It was a notification that he would have ignored and checked later, if not that there was nothing to do in the queue but wait.

Slightly curious to know what it was, he took his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through the past notifications to the most recent.

Walter's jaws fell open from his shock and anxiety as he realized the notification was a debit from his bank account.

The person in front of the counter was done, and only one person was left before Walter.

The air in the grocery store was warm in a way that felt comfortable for the customers walking around, but the heat Walter felt was a different kind.

Walter could feel a light panic welling up in his chest as he quickly realized he couldn't pay for half the things he had gotten.

The debit alert was normal; it was simply a scheduled withdrawal he had previously authorized but forgotten about.

I can't believe I forgot about it. I'm not young, but my memory isn't that bad, Walter pondered, massaging his forehead with a heavily worried expression.

For a split second, he considered leaving the queue and going back to the racks to quietly return the items he had gotten one after the other.

However, when he decided to do it in a way that would not attract any attention, the person in front of him was done, and he was next.

Walter could feel the cashier's slightly impatient gaze as he rolled his shopping cart forward and placed the items in front of her.

Before it was too late, and he annoyed her any more than he already did by being reluctant to move forward, Walter began to talk to her.

"I'll be dropping a few rolls of toilet paper, some pasta, and this box of cereal," Walter said, pointing at some of the items he placed on the counter.

He couldn't help but be slightly embarrassed when he noticed the look the store attendant sent him.

She didn't say a word, but the look on her face made it clear how irritated she was.

Nervous, he shifted his weight from one leg to another, waiting for her to calculate how much he had to pay.

About a minute later, Walter felt his stomach plummet in shock when he heard the amount she told him.

"Two hundred dollars and fifty cents."

"Ar-are you sure?" he asked, stuttering a little, at how much remained after he removed quite a lot of things.

"Yes, I'm sure," The attendant instantly responded, looking behind him, making Walter instinctively do the same.

Behind him was a long queue that was slowly getting longer.

"Can you please remove a few more items? Like the-the—"Walter asked, a little stuck as he hurriedly tried to remove the less essential items.

"The milk and the eggs can go, and maybe a few apples."

By this time, some people in the queue were getting incredibly impatient.

"What's taking so long!" A big, muscled man with tattoos inscribed on the sides of his face suddenly shouted.

He wore a biker's jacket and a leather outfit that added to the wild aura he had around him.

He was the third person in the queue, and unlike other people who had their shopping carts beside them, he had none.

Instead, in his hands were two big bottles of alcohol he seemed impatient to leave with.

"If he's having issues, then he should wait. I only have two bottles to check out," he openly complained.

This only made everyone else pay attention to Walter, who felt even more embarrassed than before.

But it only got much worse when the store attendant was done typing on her computer.

"Your total is now one hundred and fifty dollars and Ten cents," she said, sending a sharp look at Walter. "Cash or card?"

Walter couldn't even pretend. He knew he didn't have that amount in his account and quickly opened his mouth to say so.

"I only have a hundred to—" Walter had barely said a few words when he unexpectedly heard the person behind him speak directly to the store attendant.

"Please, pack everything up. I'll pay."

Walter instantly looked behind him, feeling a need to look at the person who had spoken.

"Sir—" Walter began to say, wanting to reject the offer only for the store attendant to interrupt him, speaking directly to the young man behind him.

"Cash or card?" she asked again, and Walter couldn't help but be impressed by how quickly she had packed everything he bought.

Walter had barely looked away for a few seconds, and she was already done.

"Beep!"

"Have a good day, sir," the store attendant quickly said, handing Walter's bag to him with a cold smile on her face that didn't reach her eyes.

Walter was utterly shocked by how quickly everything had happened, and by the time it was over, all he could do was move to the side and wait for his benefactor.

He didn't have to, and Walter felt the man only did it to get him out of the way and have the store attendant check out the things he bought instead.

When Walter noticed the man was done, he quickly approached him.

"I'm sorry for troubling you. Give me your number, and I promise to send the money to you in a week."

"Why?" The young man asked with a serious expression, which slowly dissolved into a smile. "I don't want it back."

"Why not? But—"

"It's nothing. Someone I met once told me that kindness is like a touch; the best thing to do is to pass it on," the young man responded.

Walter was amazed by the young man's response because he expected him to be annoyed and lash out a little, but now, he didn't even have to pay.

The young man didn't even appear rich and wore regular clothes. To Walter, he seemed like a struggling student, considering how little groceries he had in his hand.

Could he be someone I've met before? Walter wondered, staring at his unfamiliar face.

"Are you sure? I would still greatly appreciate the gesture if I could pay—"

"I insist. I have to go now. Have a good day!" the stranger said, offering a quick smile, and beginning to walk away.

"Can I at least know your name?" Walter asked, only remembering to do so when it was too late after watching him walk away for a while.

The stranger had just walked out of the supermarket, and even if Walter hurried and ran after him, the man would be long gone by the time he got outside.

On his way home, Walter couldn't stop smiling, feeling the heaviness of his bag and how good it felt to carry it.

He didn't know who the young man was, but in his heart, Walter promised to pay him back one day if he ever met him again.

I don't have much money, but I'll still reward him with the little I have later, Walter decided as he headed home.

He was only a few houses away from where he lived when he unexpectedly came across someone who dashed in front of him.

It was a poorly dressed man who looked like he lived on the streets.

He wasn't old, but the unkempt beard on his face and his untidiness made him appear to be many years older than he should be.

"Lottery tickets, it's only two dollars!" he shouted.

"Lucky Lottery tickets!"

Walter had never bought one in his life, but Sharon had, which was why he knew the homeless person in front of him was selling it for double the price.

"Who knows, you could be lucky," he persisted as Walter shook his head and tried to maneuver to the side.

The man refused to let him go and continued talking from behind.

"I know it's a little expensive, but what else am I going to do," he begged from behind as Walter walked away, intending to leave him in the dust.

Walter barely had any money, and even the groceries he carried were bought by someone else, but he knew he could afford to spare two dollars.

At least he's not outrightly begging, Walter sighed, having met many people at the shelter who had completely given up all hope.

Not wanting to rethink his actions, Walter pulled out a five-dollar bill.

"Kindness is like a touch. Pass it on!" he said with a huge smile as he handed it to him.

"Really? For me?" The man asked with a shocked expression as Walter nodded and turned around to leave.

"Thank you! Thank you," he thanked Walter, who walked faster, wanting to get home and cook himself a hearty meal, when he heard the man behind him suddenly yell louder than before.

"I almost forgot. Your lottery ticket!"

"No, it's fine. You can keep it and sell it to someone else," Walter replied, trying to continue on his way only to watch the man block his path for the second time that day.

"I insist! I want you to have it! I hope it brings you much luck. Too much for you to count."

They were in public, and soon Walter couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed by the prayers that followed as the man kept trying to give it to him.

I almost wish I could give more, Walter sighed, stretching out his hand to collect the ticket.

"Thank you," Walter told him as he kept the ticket in his pocket.

Walter smiled at the homeless man, who eagerly waved at him as he walked away.

Walter's mood soared, impatient to get home and cook — the only thing he felt could make him feel even better.

I should do more, Walter decided, feeling more motivated to help people, especially because of the kindness he received.

The rest of the way home, Walter couldn't stop humming under his breath with a rare smile.

He changed and tossed his clothes into the laundry the moment he walked into his house.

The next thing he did was cook, completely putting any thoughts of the lottery ticket he had out of his mind.

His pasta was ready an hour later, and he had just settled on his seat in front of the television to eat it when his phone rang.

The vibrant smile on his face dwindled as he instantly lowered the volume of the match he was about to enjoy and quickly picked up the call.

"Good evening, sir."

"Yes sir, there's nothing good about the evening," Walter responded in a lower tone compared to the yelling of the person on the other side of the call.

"...I know, sir," Walter continued, pinching the bridge of his nose in stress. "...I promise to get it all for you by the beginning of next month."

Walter couldn't help but grimace a little at the screaming that followed. All he could do was nod and accept it.

He owed money to the wrong kind of people and was merely receiving the consequences of his actions.

"I promise, sir, I'll—"only to hear a loud beep that indicated that the call had ended.

While speaking, Walter had submissively gotten to his feet out of habit and instantly sank back into his seat the second it was over.

The money was due in two weeks, and it was almost impossible for him to get it unless he got a bigger loan from someone else.

Walter's flaming hot pasta was directly in front of him, but he no longer wanted to eat it.

Instead, he slowly dialed his son's number and waited for him to pick up.

"Adam, how do you feel?" Walter asked in a highly excited tone, nothing like his terrible mood some minutes ago.

"I know I called you this morning, but why can't I call you tonight too?" Walter asked with a light smile on his face, genuinely happy to be speaking to his son.

Adam had just been through a complicated surgery miles away and was due to return in a few days, and Walter could hardly wait to see his son.

The eye surgery had cost him a lot, but Walter was willing to do it again in a heartbeat if it meant that Adam, a recent college graduate, could see.

"I'll call you back tomorrow morning. Get some rest," Walter told him, smiling even more at the loud groan and response he got before.

Adam liked to pretend otherwise, but Walter knew Adam loved him just as much as he did.

By the time their conversation ended, Walter's pasta wasn't as warm, but he didn't care as he dug right in and began to eat it.

The food tasted bland, and even the match he had been about to watch no longer seemed interesting as he began changing channels.

He thought about his debt again. The harsh words of the lender on the call rang in his years. I'm going to have to find a way soon.

Walter stared at the TV, changing channels mindlessly. That's when he curiously paused for a few seconds on one channel that focused on Lottery tickets.

Walter remembered the lottery ticket he had gotten.

What are the chances of me winning one? Walter wondered as he stared at the TV screen for a few more minutes before finally changing it.

It was still too early to sleep, and he had just settled on a horror movie he found interesting when his eyes widened in shock as he recalled what he had seen on the previous channel.

That very second, he jumped and dashed to his room for the ticket.

He had taken only one look at it before shoving it in his pocket, but it was enough to see the first numbers he had unintentionally scratched off.

523

He found it and ran back to the living room, switching the channel back to the one he needed as he frantically scratched out the numbers.

"Please! The chances are extremely low, but please!" Walter loudly begged, pleading with the tickets like they could understand him.

His hands trembled as he matched the numbers on his ticket with the ones he could see on the screen, one after the other.

"Five-two-three-four-two..."

But he had barely called half the numbers when he suddenly lost his voice, and all he could do was slowly move closer to the TV.

He stared hard at the numbers on it.

There were only two numbers left, and Walter could feel his heart thumping heavily in his chest like he was at the very edge of a heart attack.

If he didn't win, he felt he might faint from the disappointment but still collapse from the joy if he won.

"Nine," Walter mumbled under his breath as he slowly looked down, carefully touching the last number on his ticket with a dumbfounded expression.

He stared hard at it, memorizing each number before raising his head and gaping with his mouth open at the screen.

"I-I won," Walter muttered, gripping the ticket tightly.

So hard that even if an earthquake happened, the ticket still wouldn't fall out of his hands.

"I-I'm rich," Walter whispered under his breath, sliding into the sofa and lying on it, not knowing what else he could do.

The grin on his face stretched from ear to ear as he stared at the ticket, on the verge of tears.

About ten minutes later, having calmed down significantly, he called the number at the back of the ticket.

"Good evening."

"Ye-yes, I just won. I won a million dollars. I really can't believe it," Walter said, trailing off a little from his excitement.

After listening to the instructions, he ended the call and wrote down a few points he needed to remember.

The entire process of claiming the money was challenging, but he had a few people in his town willing to help him when they heard about it without wanting anything in return.

A few weeks later, Walter paid off all his debts and still had much more in his account even after Adam was discharged.

"Dad, you still have a lot of the lottery money in your account. What are you going to do with it?" Adam asked, as he and his father just finished eating dinner and sat together in the living room to watch a match.

He had been thinking about it for a while, and knowing that his father had barely spent any part of the money he won made him even more curious.

"I'm planning to start a charity organization."

"Really?" Adam asked, a little surprised.

He knew his father enjoyed volunteering but didn't think he would take it seriously enough to create a charity company.

"Relax. It won't solely be for charity purposes only. I'll also make a profit," Walter chuckled, seeing the worried expression on his son's face.

"I'll probably call it 'Touch," Walter said before shifting his focus to the match they were about to watch.

Adam thought his dad was joking about the name until the company was created, and Walter named it Touch.

The company's growth was exponential, and it soon became so big that they needed to employ new people to add to the ones they had.

"Sir, the interview ends by 3 pm. We weren't expecting you until then," John, the manager of the new branch, told Walter as he opened the door for him and watched him step out of the car.

Walter was dressed in an expensive suit, and his entire demeanor and aura had completely changed. Even how he talked and carried himself was different as he smiled at John.

"I know. I came for the interview. I had nothing much to do and decided to see the future and employees of the company."

John nodded to show that he understood.

If the founder decides to look around, who am I to say otherwise?

Quickly, John led Walter to the upper floors, where the interview would occur. On the way there, he even handed slim folders belonging to each person who was to attend the interview.

"They all seem like smart young men and women," Walter commented right before he was ushered into the inner room where he could watch everything without being seen.

Walter sat down and was surprised to see John, the manager, do the same.

"Aren't you going to be part of the panel?" Walter curiously asked.

He was the manager, and John expected him to leave since he would have the overall say after him.

"I can just communicate directly to them through the microphone," John responded, settling in his seat with a soft smile that showed he had no intention of going anywhere.

They didn't have to wait long before the first person was called in.

While the interview was going on, Walter kept going through the folders given to him and slowly focused on one in particular.

It was the face of a young man he never thought he would see again.

The interview went smoothly, and John, the manager, pointed out the people he wanted, and Walter had nothing to complain about.

Soon, it was the turn of the last person, and Walter couldn't help but lean forward a bit more as he watched him enter.

It's him, convinced that it was the young man he met on that fateful day.

But surprisingly, Walter found something disturbing and a little hard to understand.

The young man stood in the center of the room, but unlike the rest who came wearing formal suits, he wore an ordinary outfit.

"What post is he applying for?" Walter asked, staring at the few details he could see about him.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't find it.

"If it's not written in the file, it's probably a service job. Maybe a file assistant. He might not get it though since he dropped out of college," John pointed out, and Walter couldn't help but agree.

Noah was on the edge of tears when he heard them tell him his chances of getting the job were low.

He knew it, but he had hoped for a different result.

How will I be able to care for my mom if I don't get a better job? Noah wondered with tear-filled eyes as he made his way to the elevator.

He hadn't been able to finish college because she suddenly became sick, and even now, he still needed to earn more money for her treatment.

Noah was about to enter the elevator when he suddenly heard his name.

He immediately turned around, shocked to see one of the people interviewing him standing behind him.

"Mr. Phillip," Noah instantly greeted with a slight bow, wondering who the man beside him was.

"Noah. Today's your lucky day. Meet John, the general manager," Mr. Phillip said with a big smile.

Noah wasn't exactly sure what Mr. Phillip meant, but he quickly greeted John the same way he had greeted Phillip.

"My name is Noah. It's nice to meet you," Noah introduced himself, wondering if there was a possibility he could still get the job by meeting him.

"Yes, I just wanted to know if you're still interested in working with this company?" John gently asked, and Noah instantly nodded with a disbelieving expression.

"Of course, sir, I'll—"

"It might not be in the position you wanted, though. Is that fine with you?"

Noah didn't even need a few seconds to consider it, instantly nodding again to show he was ready.

"It's fine. I'll take whatever job I'm hired for."

I'll do anything if I get a higher pay than my last job. Noah decided that the higher wage was why he applied for a job there.

"That's good. Remember that you'll have to intern for a few months and take extra courses. It'll all be paid for."

For a split second, a confused look flashed across his face.

"Courses? Do I need that to work as a file assistant?" Noah asked, beyond shocked to hear the manager's next words.

"File assistant? Of course not. You'll be working alongside the founder. He asked for you," John replied, smiling at the baffled look on Noah's face.

It'll take a while before they get to meet, John thought, recalling how Walter had asked him to bring him only when he felt Noah was ready.

Noah spent the next couple of months in classes and seminars learning new skills; he would need to work with the founder, who had personally asked him.

The closer it got to the end of his interning period, the more Noah spent his nights googling details about Walter as thousands of questions plagued him every night.

"What exactly did I do that day to make him notice me? I don't think I even met him," Noah wondered aloud, his eyes scrunched up in confusion.

He even asked his friends for advice without getting a good response he could use.

"Why me?" Noah thought, pondering the question almost like its answer was the only thing that would make him pass the hidden test.

On the last day of his internship, Noah was dressed in a deep blue suit, and his mom, now healthy, saw him off at the door.

"What if he asks me the question, and I get it completely wrong? What if attending all those courses all the time was to find out why?" Noah asked his mum with his brows knitted together in worry.

"You'll be fine. He probably saw just how amazing you are and picked you," his mum responded, waving at him, and all he could do was wave back.

Two hours later, he found himself in the back of a company car on the way to the airport.

It took half an hour to get there, and nothing but the clothes he had on. He made his way into the private jet, where he was to meet the founder.

Noah slowly stepped in, trying to look as confident as possible, even if he could feel himself shaking anxiously in the new shoes he had just gotten.

His nervousness only became more prominent when he met with Walter.

Walter wore a suit and had a gentle smile on his face as he offered Noah a seat, one he quickly took.

"You look nervous. Don't be," Walter told him, trying to reassure him, but this only made Noah tense up even more.

"It’s nice to meet you finally, Sir."

"Same here. You can't imagine how nice it was to meet you again," Walter responded.

A response that only seemed to confuse Noah more.

No matter how often he looked at Walter, he was sure he had never met him.

Where could we possibly have met? Noah wondered, especially since he was sure they didn't even run in the same circles.

"You probably don't remember me. It's understandable," Walter stated before explaining where and how they met at the supermarket.

"But how is that possible?" Noah asked, his voice a little louder than he would have liked as he hurriedly tried to calm himself down from the shock he had just received.

Walter didn't mind explaining to him how he had been able to build such a company and the events that led to it.

"Kindness is like touch, so pass it on. That's where I got the inspiration for the company's name." Walter explained, and all Noah could do was nod his head as he listened to his words.

"I spent a long time trying to figure it out. I'm special, but I'm not that special," Noah gently responded in such a low tone that almost sounded like he was talking to himself.

He was about to say more when he suddenly heard the pilot announcing that the plane was ready to take off.

He was shocked since he had assumed he was only there to meet him.

By the time he turned his attention back to Walter, unlike the gentle smile on his face, he had a more serious expression as he spoke to Noah.

"I have something to show you, but that will depend on how you answer my question," Walter seriously said to Noah, who instantly sat up and got ready to answer.

"You were kind to me at the supermarket, and I returned the favor. What are you supposed to do now?"

Noah smiled, instantly responding in an equally severe tone like Walter's.

"Pass it on! I'm to pass it on."

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When the old man he had just stolen from started coughing, Ollie made a split decision to return and give him an inhaler. He never expected to be repaid with money and a job offer—however, another opportunity appeared at the old man's mansion when his butler told Ollie a secret. Here's the full story.

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