Ride Operator Buys Tickets for Poor Girl Daily, 16 Years Later Girl Becomes Rich & Finds Him – Story of the Day

Mr. Salas was the man who operated the rides at Cedar Point in Ohio, and a few times a week, he'd see me and my grandma come by and ride the carousel once. He started buying me tickets so I could have as much fun as possible. Sixteen years later, I went back to give him a big surprise.

I searched through my old boxes, looking for something I remembered storing a long time ago. I was in my house's attic, where daylight barely illuminated the space from the single tiny light on the ceiling. Dust particles danced in the air, tickling my nose and making me sneeze every once in a while. Despite this, I was determined in my quest.

I rummaged through papers, old gadgets, books, and tons of other things. Some had turned beige with age, and a musty smell filled the air. It wasn't pleasant, and I wanted to leave as soon as possible, but I couldn't let myself go without finding what I needed.

Finally, at the bottom of one of the last boxes, I found it. It was an old Polaroid I hoped was still in good condition. To my relief, the image was still clear despite being stored so poorly. Smiling, I stared at the picture, reading the back, "Cedar Point, Summer 2006."

Memories flooded back like a beautiful movie I had almost forgotten. Cedar Point, an amusement park in Ohio, was a place I frequently visited as a child. At ten, I remember the metallic sound of the rides, the sweet scent of cotton candy, and the excited screams of children running around.

Everything about that time seemed perfect, and I felt mostly grateful. My grandmother had saved a little bit of money here and there to take me there every day of that summer. But then, someone discovered my story and changed everything. That's why I was searching for that Polaroid in the attic. I wanted to remember that man and what he had done for me.

Sixteen years ago…

"Grandma! Look!" I yelled, excitement bubbling inside me as we arrived at the park for the first time. Kids were everywhere, eating caramel popcorn and blowing bubbles. My eyes widened in delight at the idea. I wanted to do all those things, but deep down, I knew we didn't have enough money.

I tugged on my grandmother's hand, pulling her toward our actual destination: the carousel. For some reason, I was obsessed. I loved horses, and riding on that carousel had been my dream for a while. My grandmother, Gina, had promised we would go that summer, and I couldn't believe we were finally there.

We had always lived close to the park, so I often heard the screams of people on the roller coaster, saw the tired kids with their parents when they left, and sometimes, I looked wistfully at the lights through my window at night.

I craved all those rides, but once I saw a magazine with a picture of the vintage carousel at the park, with its beautiful white horses decorated with plastic flowers, I was captivated.

Finally, we reached the carousel, and I felt an emotion rising in my chest that almost brought me to tears. It was exactly as I had imagined it, straight out of a movie. I turned to my grandmother, tightening my grip on her hand, and uttered, "Can you believe it, Grandma?"

She smiled fondly and leaned down. "Yes, I can. Go on then, I'll give the ticket to the ride operator."

Letting go, I rushed to the ride, stopping only to pick which horse to sit on. They were all so beautiful, coming in different colors with different expressions on their plastic faces. To me, it felt like the decision of a lifetime.

"Come on, Naty! The ride is going to start!" my grandmother called out, laughing at my indecision.

Finally, I picked the horse with the pink hair and blue saddle. I would never forget that moment or the look on my grandmother's face as she waved each time the ride passed her by.

It was the best moment of my life so far, the kind of moment that stops time and you remember forever. For just a few minutes, I forgot my family was struggling. I was just one of the kids who could play around in this expensive place without worries.

Sadly, the carousel ride ended much too quickly, and I dismounted from the horse, feeling bittersweet. My grandmother was waiting and took my hand.

"How was it, Naty?" she asked.

"It was great, but I wish I could go again," I answered, looking up hopefully at her, who sighed deeply.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. That's all we can afford right now. But I promise we can come here every day from now until the end of summer and get you one ride. That way, you can treasure the experience for longer. How does that sound?" she offered, and my face lit up with a smile.

"Really? Yay!" I cheered, jumping around while still holding her hand.

Grandma kept that promise thoroughly. We came every day, and somehow, it never got old. I only rode the carousel, and eventually, I even learned the name of the ride operator, Mr. Salas, who always wore a red hat with his park uniform. Grandma called him by his first name, Jacob. He looked to be in his twenties but dressed as though he was from an older generation.

One day, while my grandmother used the bathroom, Mr. Salas approached me. "Why don't you ride again while you wait for your grandmother?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, sir. We only have enough money for one ticket a day. My father died years ago, and my grandmother doesn't work anymore, so my mother is the only one earning money for us. It's not enough to spend on rides," I explained to the operator, who nodded in understanding.

But then, I saw a glint shining in his eyes as he leaned down to look into mine. "You know what? I'll buy you tickets for this ride as long as you want. How does that sound?" he grinned at me, causing my eyes to widen in shock.

"Really?"

"Really!" he nodded, urging me to get on the ride again.

I was swirling around on the carousel when Grandma returned and questioned Mr. Salas about this. "Don't worry about it, ma'am. She can ride for as long as she wants today and from here on out. It's on me."

"Why would you do that? It's too much money," my grandmother asked, her fingers going to her chin in concern.

Mr. Salas shook his head. "It's not. I don't have that many expenses, and besides… no one in this park is having as much fun as she is."

The ride operator kept his promise, and I was able to ride the carousel as much as I wished that summer. And with the money we saved from tickets, Grandma sometimes bought us caramel popcorn or sodas. We always shared them with Mr. Salas to repay him for his kindness.

One day, we even took a Polaroid picture together, where I was wearing Mr. Salas's red hat, smiling wonderfully at the camera.

It was the sweetest memory I had of my childhood. By the time summer ended, I grew tired of the carousel and the park. I thanked and said goodbye to Mr. Salas one day, and it was the last time I saw him.

Present…

For some reason, I had dreamed of that summer and started looking for that Polaroid. I knew I had taken it with me when I left for college years ago, but it had somehow gotten lost in the shuffle of life.

And things had turned out so differently for me. I had earned a scholarship to a university in Philadelphia, where I met my husband, Anthony, who came from an insanely wealthy family. It was daunting not to have to worry about money anymore.

Anthony had even bought a house for my grandmother and mother back in Ohio, so they would never have to pay rent again.

It was incredible. I had worked hard my entire life, but I had also been surrounded by amazing, generous people willing to help me in many ways. And I thought I had repaid them as best I could with my eternal friendship, love, and loyalty. But there was one person I hadn't compensated yet: Mr. Salas.

***

"Grandma, do you remember Mr. Salas?" I asked Grandma after explaining how I found the Polaroid of the three of us at the park.

"Oh, you mean that young man who let you ride that carousel? I haven't thought of him in a long time," she replied. "I can ask around if you want."

"Please! I want to know if there's any way I can pay him back for his generosity to us back then," I continued.

"Oh, darling. I'm so proud of the woman you've become. It's amazing!" Grandma gushed, emotion thick in her voice.

"It's all because of you and Mom. I hope you know that, Grandma," I replied, a smile coloring my tone.

"I'll look for Jacob. But hey, can you send me a copy of that Polaroid? I can use it in my search," she suggested.

"That's a great idea!" I said and took a picture of the Polaroid with my phone.

A few days later, Grandma called me and revealed that Jacob still lived in Ohio. Moreover, someone had even given her his address and phone number. I called him as soon as possible and talked to him for almost an hour, asking about his life and what he was currently doing.

"Things have changed a lot since my days at that park. I almost wish I could return there sometimes," he told me wistfully and then explained what happened since we last saw each other.

Jacob revealed he got married later that year and had four children with his wife before she decided to abandon them. He was working two jobs to keep them afloat. Two of his kids were teenagers who worked after-school gigs to go to Cedar Point every once in a while.

"Mr. Salas, when I was a little girl, you gave me the thing I wanted the most: to ride that carousel to my heart's content. I can't even begin to tell you how much I still value what you did," I started, tears gathering in my eyes. "If you could have anything right now, what would it be?"

"Oh wow. I want so many things for my kids, honestly. But as an amusement park lover, I would take them to Magic Kingdom. But the travel expenses alone are so pricey, and the park tickets are something else. However, I'm saving for it, so it'll happen one day, even if my kids are adults by that time," Mr. Salas revealed honestly.

Despite his money issues, he maintained a hopeful outlook on life. He was like Grandma. She was always cheerful and tried to downplay how much we were struggling.

After a few more minutes of conversation, we finally said goodbye.

I knew what I had to do and relished the idea of it. I enlisted my grandmother's help to coordinate with Mr. Salas's eldest son for all the personal information needed to purchase plane tickets. And a week later, I called Mr. Salas again.

"Check your email, sir," I told him, excitement making my palms sweat.

"No!" Jacob exclaimed after a few minutes. "No! Young lady, I can't take this. It's too much!"

"It's not enough compared to what that summer meant to me. You bought tickets for me once; this is how I'm repaying you. Enjoy it. Do it for your kids because memories of those carefree rides last a lifetime, and believe me, there's nothing like it," I insisted, and I heard Mr. Salas crying in the background.

Then I heard cheers and knew he had told his kids, who all came to the phone. "Thank you! Thank you!" they yelled.

I had bought them all plane tickets to Orlando, Florida, with reservations at a Disney Resort and access to Magic Kingdom, Epcot Center, and Animal Kingdom. Hearing them cheering on the phone, I felt immense pride in myself.

Yes, my husband was wealthy, but I bought all that with my money, and I had made an entire family happy in the process. My efforts and luck had led to this beautiful moment in time.

"Make sure to take pictures and send them to me," I commanded jokingly.

"Young lady, you are… I have no words. I will send many pictures. Thank you!" Mr. Salas stated gratefully, and we hung up.

I put the phone down on my coffee table and stared at nothing in particular in my living room but thought deeply. I was wrong years ago. Riding the carousel was not the best moment of my life. This was.

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