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A set of stairs going down | Source: Shutterstock
A set of stairs going down | Source: Shutterstock

Woman Goes down to the Basement of Her House and Finds an Old Lady Locked in There — Story of the Day

Sonali Pandey
Mar 11, 2024
11:50 A.M.

I went down to the basement of my new house one day, only to race back upstairs after hearing a voice from behind a locked door. When I finally mustered some courage and opened the door, I found myself staring at a frail, elderly woman. Who was she, and what was she doing there?

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My journey of starting over had just begun. After my husband's gambling habits nearly drove us to bankruptcy, I divorced him. He was never the one to take responsibility, so he didn't fight for our kids' custody.

With my two children, Mary and John, I moved to a quaint town in Iowa. Upon arriving, the first thing I did was purchase a charming old house on the city's outskirts. It had a fenced, nice yard for my kids to play in, and the house hardly needed any renovation.

Finding a ready-to-move-in home at an affordable price felt like a blessing at the time.

A couple of days after my children and I moved in, I went down to the basement, where I saw two doors.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

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One door opened to a small room where old junk was stored while the other was locked. I tried to push it, thinking something had jammed it from behind; however, I halted when a noise from the other side of the door caught my attention.

I thought it was my imagination, so I put my right ear against the door, listening.

"Help-p-p me!" a voice whispered, but I was already off, racing away from the strange door and dark basement.

When I reached my living room, I took several breaths to steady my nerves, entered the kitchen, picked up a knife, and returned to the basement.

"Whatever is in there can come out now so we can duke it out before my kids get back from school," I thought to myself.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

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When I got there, I heard the voice again. It sounded like someone was whimpering. One steady kick to the area beside the already weak doorknob got the door ajar and revealed a dejected old woman. I was shocked.

"Mario?" she called out in a feeble voice.

"N-no, I'm Patty, the house's new owner," I replied, still shocked. "Who are you? Let me help you."

Holding her trembling hands, I helped her out of the room.

"New owner? I don't understand, this is my house," the old woman said.

I was worried about why the woman was locked in the basement when she owned the house. I took her upstairs and prepared some tea for us.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

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"My name is Maddie," she began, sipping the tea. "I bequeathed the house to my grandson, to be inherited after my death."

"And he sold it to me, '' I said with regret. "That means I robbed you of your only home. I'm sorry."

"That's why he put me in there, so I don't get in his way," the old lady sighed. "It's been tough since my husband passed. This home was all I had, and now I don't know what to do."

"I'm sorry," I apologized again. "I can't even begin to understand what you're going through. But we'll find a way to work this out together. I'm Patty."

I noticed she teared up. "Thank you, Patty," she said, looking up from her tea. "I just don't know what to do without a place to call home."

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

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My heart sank after listening to her story. I suggested she call the police and report her grandson for what he had done, but she refused. "I don't want my grandson to get in trouble, no matter what he's done," she pleaded. "Please."

"Okay, Maddie. We won't call the police," I said. "But we can't leave you on your own. Stay with us, help out with the kids, and we'll look out for one another.

Maddie seemed so relieved. "Really? That means a lot. Oh, I'd do anything to help and not be in the way."

And Maddie followed through on her words. She cooked, cleaned, and even helped my kids with homework while I was busy at work. But unfortunately, Maddie didn't stay with us for long.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

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One day, while she was baking, my daughter Mary approached her. Maddie was confused as she saw Mary crying. She asked Mary why she was crying, and it turned out my son, John, had fallen into a river.

Maddie and Mary raced to the river, finding John clinging to a branch in the swift current, his friends powerless to help.

The cold water shocked her, but it did not stop Maddie from getting to my boy and taking him ashore safely. When I heard of the deed, I couldn't stop thanking Maddie.

"Oh, Maddie, I don't want to know what could've happened if you weren't there. Saving John like that... I can't thank you enough. Thank you," I kept saying.

Maddie held my hands and smiled gently. "I couldn't just stand by, dear. He reminds me of my own grandkids. Just knowing he's safe is enough for me."

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

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Sadly, Maddie fell ill a few days later. The cold from the water worked a number on her, and she contracted pneumonia.

As Maddie's health got worse, the whole house felt it. I was always there, trying to make her comfortable, while Mary and John would show her their drawings to make her smile. "We miss your pies," John would say, hoping to see her smile.

Maddie, now really weak, would faintly smile at them and say, "Being with you all has been wonderful."

As days went by, Maddie's health showed no improvement, no matter how much we cared for her.

As I recall the night she passed away, I can feel warm tears running down my cheeks. I was holding her hand.

"Maddie, you've been so good to us. We're here for you like you were for us. I want you to be healthy again, okay?" I had said.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

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Maddie passed away in her sleep that night. A week later, I finally made the tough decision to sort her things and keep them in the basement. It was then I stumbled upon a small box filled with precious jewelry and a note addressed to me.

It read, "If you found these, then it means I've passed on, and you've come to clear out my things. I'm thankful for the time I spent with you, Mary, and John because you gave me a taste of family again. These jewels are for you, Patty, and for your family. I hope they help you when you're in a difficult place, just as you once helped this old woman. From Maddie with love."

Holding the box of jewels, my kids and I cried together that day. "Kids," I said, my voice full of emotion, "Maddie left these for us, but the real gift was having her with us."

"Maddie's watching over us now, right, Mom?" Mary asked. Oh, my little girl always talking like a grown woman!

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

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"Yes, honey, she is," I replied, pulling her and John close. "She's become the brightest star in the sky just so she could watch over us."

We sat there, holding each other, remembering Maddie, the surprise guardian who had become part of our family. Later, I put the money I got from selling the jewelry to good use, and I lived comfortably with my children for a long time.

I firmly believe that we don't meet people by chance. I met Maddie because we were destined to form a beautiful connection. Thank you for everything, Maddie!

Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.

If you enjoyed reading this story, here's another one | Liam kept denying his grandmother’s request to open the toolbox she’d gifted him, thinking it was another one of her boring presents he hated. However, after her death, the boy opened it and couldn’t stop crying when he saw what was inside... 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. If you would like to share your story, please send it to info@amomama.com.

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