I thought I was just a caregiver for Mrs. Blackwood, a sharp-tongued, secretive woman, until her plan to rewrite the will in my favor, cutting out her children, pulled me into a storm of family secrets.
I was young, unemployed, and full of doubts. A nursing diploma in hand but no job prospects. Higher education in the city felt like a cruel joke. Weeks of failed interviews left me restless, staring at a bleak future.
Then, a small ad in the paper caught my eye:
“Nanny needed for an elderly lady who cannot walk. Live-in position.”
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It felt like a lifeline. So, I headed to the interview.
When I arrived at the grand, slightly weathered house, the door was opened by a young man, perhaps in his early twenties.
“You must be here for the nanny position,” he said with a polite smile. “I’m Edward.”
Before I could respond, a young woman appeared behind him.
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“And I’m Emily. Grandma’s expecting you,” she added, her tone friendly but distant, as if this was a routine chore she wanted to get over with.
They were kind enough to show me inside, but it looked as though they were obligated to be welcoming.
“Grandma’s upstairs,” Edward said as he gestured toward the staircase. “We’ll let her take it from here.”
They disappeared down the hall, leaving me with the distinct impression that they were more like housemates than attentive grandchildren.
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Mrs. Blackwood greeted me with a smile that radiated confidence. She was in bed, but everything about her said she was in control. Her hair was perfectly coiffed, her nails polished, and her laughter surprisingly hearty.
“Ah, you must Mia,” she said, her voice warm and commanding. “Come in, dear. Sit down.”
I hesitated for a moment. She didn’t match the frail, helpless image I’d expected.
“Don’t just stand there,” she teased, patting the edge of the bed. “Sit! Have a doughnut. No one should face the world hungry.”
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“Thank you,” I replied, cautiously picking one from the plate on her nightstand.
Her eyes sparkled as she watched me as if she already knew my life story.
“So, tell me,” she began, leaning back slightly, “why do you want this job?”
“I need it. And I believe I can help you,” I said, trying not to overshare.
She nodded. “Honesty. That’s rare these days. Well, Mia, welcome aboard.”
That’s how my life in Lady Blackwood’s house began.
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The first few days were uneventful. I followed her routine, listened to her endless stories, and thought maybe this would be simple. But then, the strangeness began.
One morning, a book from the shelf moved beside her bed.
“Did you read this last night, Mrs. Blackwood?” I asked, holding up the book.
“I don’t sleepwalk, dear,” she replied, her lips twitching with amusement.
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Then there was the curtain. I distinctly remembered leaving it open, but it was drawn when I returned. And the flowers… They were freshly watered when I hadn’t touched them.
“Are your grandchildren coming to kiss good night?” I asked one morning, trying to sound casual.
“Oh no,” she said with a small laugh. “Edward and Emily have been living here since their parents gone, but they rarely bother to check on me before bed.”
“But… someone’s moving things,” I pressed.
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“They’ll come when the will is read,” she added, missing my comments.
Her words hung in the air like a puzzle piece that didn’t fit. Something was off, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that Mrs. Blackwood was hiding something from everyone, including her grandchildren.
***
Each new day in the Blackwood household seemed to unravel more mysteries. I decided to make a few changes to Mrs. Blackwood’s routine, not only to make her life more comfortable but also to create a sense of normalcy in the house. Instead of letting her eat alone in her room, I began setting the table in the living room.
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“There’s something special about a proper dinner table,” I said, adjusting the silverware. “It feels more… lively, don’t you think?”
Mrs. Blackwood raised an eyebrow, but a faint smile tugged at her lips.
“You’re full of ideas, aren’t you, Mia?”
“And you’re going to love this one,” I said with a wink, pushing her wheelchair closer to the table.
I covered her with a soft blanket and tucked a pillow behind her back for support.
Edward and Emily weren’t as enthusiastic about the change. The first night, they entered the room with wide eyes, as though they had stumbled into a completely foreign world.
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“What’s this?” Emily asked, frowning at the neatly set table.
“Dinner,” I replied cheerfully. “It’s nice to eat together, don’t you think?”
Edward hesitated. “But Grandma always eats in her room.”
“Well, not anymore,” I said firmly, pulling out a chair for him. “She deserves company, don’t you agree?”
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They exchanged a look, clearly uncomfortable, but sat down anyway.
Later, I introduced the idea of reading nights twice a week.
“It’s simple,” I explained one evening. “We’ll each take turns reading a chapter aloud. Then we can discuss the plot. It’ll be fun, and it’ll give us all something to share.”
Mrs. Blackwood seemed to enjoy it, her laughter often punctuating the room as we stumbled through old classics and lighthearted tales.
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But after a few weeks, Edward and Emily began to find excuses to skip. Their absences became more frequent until it was just Mrs. Blackwood and me at the table.
One evening, the four of us gathered for the dinner.
“I’m glad you both joined us tonight,” Mrs. Blackwood began, her voice smooth and warm.
Edward glanced at Emily. “Actually, Grandma, there’s something we wanted to talk to you about.”
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Emily jumped in before he could finish. “We’ve been thinking… It’s probably best for all of us if Edward and I move out. You’ll still have Mia here to take care of you, of course.”
Mrs. Blackwood tilted her head. “Moved out? Where would you go?”
“We found a place downtown,” Edward explained quickly. “But, um, we’ll need a little help with the deposit and rent.”
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For a moment, silence hung over the table. Then Mrs. Blackwood gave a slow, deliberate smile that made both Edward and Emily sit up straighter.
“Well, isn’t that convenient,” she said, her voice light but laced with something sharp. “Since we’re all sharing news, I have some of my own.”
Edward frowned. “What news?”
Mrs. Blackwood leaned forward slightly, her eyes gleaming with amusement.
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“Next week, my lawyer will be visiting to make some changes to my will.”
Emily froze, her fork halfway to her mouth. “Changes?”
“Yes,” Mrs. Blackwood replied. “You see, I’ve decided that everything will go to Mia.”
“You’re joking!” Emily exclaimed.
“Oh, I’m quite serious,” Mrs. Blackwood said, her voice calm. “Mia has shown me the kind of care and respect I haven’t seen from either of you in years. She’s earned it.”
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“But we’re your grandchildren!” Edward burst out.
“Then perhaps you should start acting like it,” Mrs. Blackwood retorted. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I believe dinner is getting cold.”
***
Overnight, Edward’s and Emily’s behavior changed in the most absurd ways. Suddenly, they became the epitome of devoted grandchildren, vying for her attention. That was as entertaining as it was ridiculous.
One morning, I walked into the living room to find Edward arranging a vase of bright tulips on the table.
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“Flowers for you, Grandma,” he said, his tone overly cheerful. “I remember how much you love tulips.”
Mrs. Blackwood glanced at the flowers, unimpressed. “Do you? That’s interesting because I prefer orchids.”
Emily, not to be outdone, burst in a moment later carrying a tray with tea and biscuits.
“Breakfast in the living room today, Grandma! I thought you’d enjoy a change of scenery.”
Mrs. Blackwood raised an eyebrow, sipping the tea. “Well, aren’t you two just angels,” she said dryly. “Too bad you didn’t think of this sooner.”
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They were relentless. Their efforts to win her over bordered on comical. Meanwhile, I barely had to lift a finger.
But despite their over-the-top efforts, Mrs. Blackwood remained firm. One evening, after a particularly extravagant dinner prepared by Emily, she announced:
“My decision is final. No amount of flowers or fancy meals will change it.”
The smiles disappeared, replaced by hushed conversations behind closed doors.
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The next day, Edward approached me.
“We’ve decided that your services are no longer needed. We can manage taking care of Grandma ourselves.”
It was clear his words were rehearsed, but the tension in his voice betrayed the real motive.
“Alright,” I said finally. “I’ll pack my things.”
As I turned to leave, Mrs. Blackwood called me to her room. She handed me an envelope stuffed with cash.
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“It’s time for you to act. Rent a car, park it near the house at midnight, and wait in the garden when the lights go out. Be ready for anything.”
I stared at her, startled. “But what’s going to happen?”
She smiled. “Just trust me. You’ll see soon enough.”
***
I rented the jeep, just as Mrs. Blackwood had instructed. The following night, I drove toward her house and parked the jeep a few streets away, keeping it hidden under the shadows of tall trees.
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Taking a deep breath, I got out and crept into the garden, crouching behind the hedge where I had a clear view of the house. Time felt elastic, stretching endlessly as I waited for her signal.
Then, all at once, the lights in the house went out.
My pulse quickened. I fixed my eyes on the windows, every muscle in my body tense. The darkness seemed alive, moving with shadows that weren’t there a moment ago.
Suddenly, the back door creaked open, and a figure in a black cloak emerged. It turned, the face illuminated by the moonlight.
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“Mrs. Blackwood?” I whispered, unsure if it could really be her.
“Come,” she whispered, moving with a speed and confidence that shocked me.
I hurried after her, struggling to keep up as she navigated the garden like someone half her age. When we reached the jeep, she slid into the driver’s seat without hesitation.
“Wait… you can drive?” I stammered, stunned.
“Of course,” she replied, her tone tinged with amusement. “Did you think I spent all my time in bed for fun?”
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As she expertly maneuvered the jeep, she explained everything. The shifting objects, the carefully timed moments of helplessness—it had all been part of her plan.
“My grandchildren have spent their lives waiting for something they didn’t earn. You, Mia, showed me what true care and effort look like. It’s time they learn to stand on their own.”
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***
True to her word, Mrs. Blackwood rewrote her will, leaving nothing to her grandchildren. Instead, she rewarded me generously and donated the rest to charity. Her grandchildren were given a choice: start earning their way or leave without support. Surprisingly, they chose to change.
As for me, I found a place to live and returned to my hospital internship, armed with glowing recommendations from Mrs. Blackwood. That adventure gifted me with an extraordinary friendship with Mrs. Blackwood, who taught me the true value of self-worth.
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Homem pobre elogia mulher de cabelos grisalhos, no dia seguinte ela vai à casa dele com anel de noivado — História do dia
A autoestima de uma viúva estava em baixa depois que sua filha constantemente a colocava para baixo. Um dia, um homem elogia seu cabelo, levando-a a visitar sua casa no dia seguinte com um anel de noivado.
Olivia era uma viúva solitária que continuou a lamentar a perda do marido, Dave. Dave era seu melhor amigo, e quando ele adoeceu e eventualmente faleceu, Olivia não sabia como continuar vivendo sem ele.
Para tentar aliviar sua solidão, Olivia pedia para sua filha Amelia encontrá-la no parque toda quarta-feira. Elas caminhavam juntas e desfrutavam de um bom jantar em um café.
Olivia e sua filha Amelia se encontravam todas as quartas-feiras no parque. | Fonte: Pexels
Toda vez que se encontravam, Amelia sempre repreendia Olivia por sua aparência. “Mãe, você se deixou levar”, ela dizia. “Por que você não pinta seu cabelo? Está todo grisalho – parece que você desistiu completamente da vida.”
Olivia deu de ombros. “Não é que eu tenha desistido, querida… é que não vejo sentido nisso! Seu pai não está mais por perto, e não há ninguém que eu precise impressionar. Além disso, o cabelo de todo mundo fica grisalho eventualmente.”
Amelia balançou a cabeça. Ela acreditava que, aos 70 anos, sua mãe ainda era jovem e capaz de encontrar o amor novamente. “Você nunca mais terá outro homem olhando para você se continuar a se deixar levar desse jeito. Papai se foi, mãe, mas você? Você está viva e jovem! Você poderia encontrar o amor novamente, mas não parecendo assim.”
Amelia acreditava que sua mãe havia se deixado levar após a morte de Dave. | Fonte: Pexels
Olivia ficou magoada porque sua filha continuava ridicularizando sua aparência. Elas tinham a mesma conversa toda semana, o que estava começando a afetar sua autoestima.
Enquanto Olivia voltava para casa sozinha, ela não conseguia evitar chorar. As palavras da filha a machucavam, mas parecia que Amelia não se importava. Ela continuava a insultar a mãe toda semana sem perceber que isso não a estava ajudando.
Quando Olivia se aproximou da entrada do parque, de repente ela ouviu um homem falar. Ela olhou para a direita e viu um zelador sorrindo para ela enquanto varria o chão.
“Espero não estar me excedendo aqui, mas só queria que você soubesse que seu cabelo está incrível! Os tons prateados que estão chegando realmente combinam com você”, ele disse com um sorriso.
Peter elogiou Olivia enquanto ela caminhava para casa naquela noite. | Fonte: Pexels
Olivia não conseguiu evitar chorar ainda mais ao ouvir essas palavras. “Sério?”, ela perguntou ao homem.
O homem assentiu. “Por que, sim, claro! Vamos admitir, nem todo mundo fica bem com cabelos grisalhos, mas eles combinam perfeitamente com você. Seu marido é um homem de sorte.”
“Obrigada. Você não tem ideia do quanto eu precisava ouvir essas palavras. Eu estava me sentindo um pouco para baixo comigo mesma e estava prestes a desistir. Obrigada por me dar o impulso de confiança que eu precisava. Eu sou Olivia”, ela disse, estendendo a mão para que pudessem apertar as mãos.
“Não há razão para você se sentir inseguro sobre si mesmo. Você está ótimo! Eu sou Peter”, respondeu o homem.
Naquela noite, Olivia passou alguns minutos extras no parque conversando com Peter. Ela percebeu que não tinha falado com ninguém além da filha recentemente, e foi uma lufada de ar fresco para ela poder fazer isso.
O zelador se apresentou como Peter. | Fonte: Pexels
Durante a conversa rápida, Olivia descobriu que Peter era um pai solteiro de três filhos depois que sua esposa o deixou por um homem mais rico. “Eu não terminei a faculdade, então encontrar um emprego foi difícil. O único lugar que me aceitou foi o parque; é por isso que estou aqui”, ele revelou.
Olivia perguntou ao homem onde ele morava, e ele contou que morava em um pequeno parque de trailers ali perto. Ela estava preocupada com Peter e seus filhos, pensando que não havia como seus filhos viverem confortavelmente em um pequeno trailer.
Peter acompanhou Olivia até em casa naquela noite para ter certeza de que ela estava segura. No caminho para casa, Peter apontou para o parque de trailers onde ele morava, a algumas quadras da casa de Olivia. “Eu moro bem ali”, ele disse a ela. “Naquele trailer azul e vermelho.”
Quando Peter está no trabalho, seu antigo vizinho fica em seu trailer para tomar conta de seus filhos. | Fonte: Pexels
Olivia não conseguiu deixar de se preocupar mais depois de ver a péssima condição do trailer. Ela se perguntou onde estavam os filhos de Peter, e ele revelou que enquanto ele estava no trabalho, seu antigo vizinho vinha para cuidar das crianças.
Quando Olivia foi para a cama naquela noite, ela não conseguia parar de pensar em Peter e seus filhos. Ela começou a pensar em maneiras de ajudá-los.
No dia seguinte, Peter ouviu uma batida na porta. Ele ficou surpreso ao ver Olivia ali. “Oi, Peter”, ela cumprimentou. “Vim para lhe dar uma coisa. Isso significou muito para mim, mas sei que pode ajudar você e seus filhos.”
Olivia abriu sua bolsa e tirou uma pequena caixa de joias. Dentro dela havia um deslumbrante anel de noivado de diamante e ela o entregou a Peter sem dizer uma palavra.
Olivia entregou a Peter seu anel de noivado. | Fonte: Pexels
“Por que você está me dando isso?” Peter perguntou a ela. “Eu não posso tirar isso de você.”
“Quero que você fique com ele”, Olivia insistiu. “Não o uso, e ele está guardado em casa há meses. Por favor, pegue e compre comida, roupas e fraldas para seus filhos. Use-o para o que precisar”, ela disse a ele.
Peter não conseguiu evitar derramar uma lágrima, pois tinha dificuldade em pagar as contas com seu salário mínimo. Ele aceitou o anel e puxou Olivia para um abraço. “Obrigado, Olivia. Não sei como poderia retribuir.”
Olivia balançou a cabeça. “Sou eu retribuindo, Peter. Obrigada por me lembrar do meu valor próprio. Eu estava me sentindo mal ontem e não tinha motivação para continuar”, ela disse a ele.
Olivia começou a se sentir bonita novamente graças ao elogio de Peter. | Fonte: Pexels
Mais tarde naquele dia, Peter levou o anel a um joalheiro. O joalheiro ofereceu a ele $ 7.750 pelo anel de diamante de 1 quilate. Peter não conseguia acreditar e colocou o dinheiro em sua conta bancária para mantê-lo seguro. Então ele visitou Olivia depois e pediu que ela fosse até lá.
“Gostaria de preparar uma boa refeição para você”, ele disse a ela.
Desde aquele dia, Olivia começou a visitar Peter e as crianças com mais frequência. Em vez de deixar os filhos dele com um vizinho, Olivia se ofereceu para cuidar deles.
Por fim, os filhos de Peter começaram a chamar Olivia de “vovó”. Isso tocou seu coração e a fez perceber que agora ela tinha uma família grande e amorosa por meio de Peter e seus filhos.
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