“We’re going to live inside that house, silly! Right, Dad?” my daughter Kelly chimed in.
As I nodded, the reality of our new life began to sink in. Yet, the moment I opened the doors, something was wrong. The house was in disarray — someone had been there.
“We’ve examined the entire perimeter of the house and found no sign of forced entry, sir,” the officer reported after I called 911.
That evening, I got an anonymous call. In a robotic yet menacing tone, the voice told me I had 24 hours to decline all that Mr. Grives’ left me, leave the house, or else I would lose everything I love.
The mansion came with Mr. Grives’ loyal staff, and one of them warned me that this could be the doing of Mr. Grives’ eldest son, Christopher. I resolved to go to the cops in the morning.
But in the morning, my kids were vanished! Although the clever perpetrator had managed to hide his face from most of the CCTVs in and around the house, there was one he didn’t know about.
Mr. Grives’ staff watched in horror as they recognized the leader of three thugs drugging my children. It was Christopher.
From there on, the cops put everyone on the task of tracking Christopher, and didn’t rest until later that afternoon, when Christopher were spotted on the border of the state with my kids in the back of an old van.
Christopher was arrested, and my children were safe. But their fear had set in deep, and I had a choice to make: to heal and embrace the gift that kind soul left us, or to walk away, rebuilding from the start.
“Daddy, are we going to leave our home again?” Kelly’s question broke my heart.
I wrapped my arms around them. “We’re going to be okay. You want to know why?”
“IBecause the most valuable thing we have is right here, in my arms. So long as we stick together, we’ll always be rich in the most important way: love.”
While Brandon was blessed with children who understand the value of kindness and love, Mr. Greg wasn’t. Coming up next is his story.
3. Mr. Greg: My Teen Daughter Humiliated the Homeless, I Had to Teach Her a Lesson
I always thought I was doing right things for my daughter, Jane. I made sure she had everything she needed, but I missed teaching her something crucial — compassion for others. This hit me hard a few days ago when I lost my wallet.
After a fruitless search, I returned home to find Jane mocking a homeless man and his daughter at our doorstep. The shock set in when the man handed me my wallet, untouched. I was moved by that man’s gesture.
But Jane dismissively called them “trash,” and spoke to them with so much disgust…it broke my heart. I knew I had to fix this.
That evening, I invited the man, Mark, and his daughter for dinner. It was my chance to teach Jane about generosity.
“Dad, check the money! He probably stole it!” Jane said as I checked my wallet. Everything was there.
“All the money is here, sweetie. You’re mistaken,” I told her.
Seeing Mark’s and Lolita’s discomfort, I invited them to stay for dinner.
“Why don’t you guys join us?” I said. “It’s the least I can do to thank you.”
During dinner, Jane gave them paper plates instead of proper dishes.
“Why not use the nice dishes I got you for your birthday?” I suggested.
As we ate, I encouraged Mark to share his story, but Jane kept interrupting with rude comments. Eventually, I lost my patience.
“Shut your mouth, Jane!” I snapped. “You don’t know nothing. Misfortune could strike anyone.”
I then revealed a painful truth to Jane. “It’s my fault. I worked too much, especially after your mother passed. We were the same once,” I confessed. “Do you remember our ‘camping trips’? We were actually homeless.”
Jane was stunned. “How did we get back on our feet?”
“A kind man gave me a job. That changed our lives,” I said with a sigh.
Then, I looked at Mark. “And now, it’s my turn to pay it forward,” I told him.
Mark nodded. “All I did was what a decent human should do,” he said.
“I had no idea, Dad. I’m sorry,” Jane said after a pause.
“It’s okay, honey. It’s not too late to learn from this,” I told her.
When it was time for Mark and Lolita to go, I suggested, “Why don’t you both stay the night? We have plenty of room, and it’s getting late.”
Mark hesitated, then gratefully accepted. “Thank you, Greg. This means a lot.”
But I knew I wasn’t done helping them. Offering them a night’s shelter would not alleviate their problems. So I made a decision.
A little kindness costs nothing, guys, and I was ready to make sure that little Lolita and her dad had a good life.
The next day, I offered Mark a job as a driver and arranged a temporary home for them. “And I’ll help you until you’re back on your feet,” I promised.
“Oh, Really?” Mark gasped. “Nobody is this kind nowadays! I won’t let you down, sir,” Mark told me in tears. “Thank you so much!”
The smile on Lolita’s face that day made me realize I’d done the right thing. As for Jane…my Janie changed. She became a better person, and I’m so glad for that.
Twin babies, who died alongside their mom, believed to be youngest Hurricane Helene victims
As of Tuesday, more than 230 individuals across six different states have tragically lost their lives due to Hurricane Helene, with hundreds still unaccounted for.
Among those who perished are twin brothers Khyzier and Khazmir Williams, who are thought to be the youngest victims of the hurricane. The five-week-old twins, along with their mother Kobe Williams, died when a tree fell onto their mobile home in Thomson, Georgia.
Nobody was really taking the storm seriously,” said Mary Jones, the boys’ grandmother and Kobe Williams’ mother, during an interview with Today.com. “But then it hit, and the wind was so loud. When the power went out, Kobe got really frightened. She was so worried about the babies.”
Jones and her daughter spent the entire night listening to the storm as it tore through the outside of their home. Around 5:15 a.m., Jones fed Khyzier to let her daughter get some rest, though Kobe couldn’t sleep because of how terrified she was.
Jones eventually dozed off, while her daughter stayed awake. Less than an hour later, Jones was startled awake by a “strange shushing” sound, quickly followed by an eerie stillness.
When she went to investigate, she discovered that a tree had come crashing through her daughter’s room.
“I started shouting, ‘Kobe! Please answer me! Say something!’ It was so dark, and all I could see were the tree branches.”
When she went to investigate, she discovered that a tree had come crashing through her daughter’s room.
“I started shouting, ‘Kobe! Please answer me! Say something!’ It was so dark, and all I could see were the tree branches.”
She was cradling the babies in her arms when the tree struck her head. She was trying to shield them,” recalled Markeya Jones, her granddaughter.
Hurricane Helene has become the deadliest hurricane to strike the mainland United States since Hurricane Katrina in 2005.
As the cleanup efforts continue, many in the southeastern region are preparing for what could be another record-setting storm, as Hurricane Milton heads toward the Tampa Bay area.
I am at a loss for words regarding the sheer level of destruction that Hurricane Helene has left behind. It breaks my heart to see how many families and livelihoods were shattered in a matter of moments.
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