Old Man Sells Shabby Suitcase, Everyone Ignores Him except Lame Boy Who Agrees to Buy It — Story of the Day

A boy goes to the flea market to buy old music tapes, but he takes pity on an elderly man selling an old suitcase, and that act of kindness changes his life.

Martin Farmer’s life wasn’t easy and it contained few pleasures. He was seventeen years old, but he was already carrying a heavy load of responsibility. His mother was ill, and his father had passed away two years before, leaving him as the man of the house.

Shortly after that, a motorbike accident had left Martin with severe injuries to his left leg, which ended his brilliant football career, and he had been counting on football to pay his way through college…

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash

Money was short so Martin worked after school every day and all day Saturdays to make ends meet and help pay for his mom’s medication. Once in a while he took $5 out of his savings and went to the local flea market to look for old music tapes from the 80s and the 90s.

Those monthly trips to the flea market were his only pleasure — his only hobby. That Sunday, Martin was recovering from a particularly hard week. He had worked hard, but his mother’s medical bills had come in the mail.

His week’s paycheck wasn’t enough to keep the wolves at bay forever, Martin knew that. He and his mother had a heated argument on Saturday night. He wanted to quit school and work full time, but his mother disagreed.

This morning he got up early, made her breakfast, and then headed out for the flea market. At least for a couple of hours, he’d stop thinking about his problems.

It was a beautiful morning so the fair was full of people browsing through the trash and treasures of other people’s lives, and Martin headed for one particular vendor he knew well.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash

He was standing by the man’s table, going through a treasure trove of old tapes when an old man arrived and set up a pile of old bags and suitcases next door. The man immediately started advertising his wares:

“Suitcases, bags, and briefcases!” he cried in his old cracked voice, “Five dollars apiece, best bargain of your life!”

A woman passing by stopped, looked, and sniffed. “Old junk is what you’ve got! There’s so much mildew on that suitcase it will probably fall apart!”

“Go on, lady!” the old man wheeled. “Help an old man out! I’m clearing out my old treasures and I can sure use the money! Things are tight…”

Another man walked past and nudged a briefcase with his foot. “Old man, I wouldn’t even give a dollar for this piece of trash! You’re not going to sell anything!”

Miracles are found where and when we least expect them.

The old man shook his head. “You’re wrong. The right person will come along because this here is a suitcase full of hope,” he said. “Cause it looks like a suitcase to you, but I promise you, it’s a dream come true!”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

Martin smiled. He turned to the man and said, “I could use a lot of hope right about now! How much for the dream come true?”

“Young man,” the old man said smiling happily. “This here marvel is 100% genuine leather, made in the 1930s, and it can be yours for only $5!”

Smiling, Martin fished in his pocket for his single $5 note and handed it to the man. “Here you go,” he said.

The man was smiling hugely, and he grabbed Martin’s hand. “You’re a kind boy,” he said. “And you deserve what you’re getting!”

Martin laughed, picked up the old suitcase which was a lot heavier than he’d imagined, and waved a regretful goodbye to the music man. “Next time!” he promised and headed home for lunch.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

When he arrived home, his mother complained about the suitcase right away. “Martin! Did you have to buy junk? We have enough of that! Put it in the garage or it will fill the house with dust!”

Martin obediently carried the suitcase into the garage. He was about to place it on top of an old table when he once again noticed how heavy it was. He opened the suitcase and was surprised to see that it was filled with packages wrapped in newspaper.

Curious, he ripped the newspaper and found a wad of $20 bills! Quickly Martin unwrapped the other packages. It was all money! Thousands of dollars, hundreds of thousands of dollars!

Martin screamed for his mother and she came running. She was speechless at the sight of the piles of money. She didn’t complain about the dust…

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

That night, Martin and his mom counted and recounted the money. There was $300,000! “There’s enough for the medical bills, and the medication…” said Martin.

“Oh, and for college,” said Martin’s mom. “And maybe then we pay off the mortgage…”

“But mom,” Martin said softly. “It’s not our money. The man sold me this suitcase for five dollars and he looked very poor. I’m sure he didn’t know about the money.”

Mrs. Farmer carefully put all the money back in the old suitcase. “In that case, you have to find him, Martin,” she said. “And give it all back to him.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash

Over the next three weeks, Martin haunted the street markets and flea markets looking for the old man, but he was nowhere to be found. Then one day he saw him at a bus stop, carrying another old suitcase.

“Wait!” Martin cried. “Listen, do you remember me? You sold me an old suitcase? I have to give it back to you!”

“Give it back?” asked the old man. “I don’t want it back!”

“Please, you don’t understand,” Martin said. “The suitcase was full of money, your money!”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

The old man started laughing. “I know THAT!” he said. “Do you remember what I told you? The suitcase was full of hope and dreams come true. That’s what it’s for. Use it well.”

The old man turned and started to walk away, but Martin ran after him. “But I thought you were poor!”

The man smiled. “No, son. I’m a man who spent his entire life making money and now I find I have more than anyone should have. So I give it to those who are kind enough to help those in need. And that’s you!”

Martin went home and told his mother the old man’s story. They decided to use the money to help her get well and to pay for his college, and from that day on, they included the Suitcase Man in their prayers.

What can we learn from this story?

  • Miracles are found where and when we least expect them. Martin and his mother were at the end of their rope when they found the money in the suitcase.
  • Acts of kindness are always rewarded. Martin spent his precious $5 to help a man he thought was poorer than he was and received a gift that made his dreams come true.

Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.

If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a young waitress who gave an old homeless man free meals after she recognizes his old broken-down western boots.

This account is inspired by our reader’s story 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.

My Husband’s Lover Came to Me for a Massage, Not Knowing I’m His Wife

You never think it’ll happen to you. I thought my husband and I had built a life that no one could touch. But then a young, beautiful woman walked into my massage studio and started talking about her life. What she said left me speechless, but my response left her paralyzed.

I never imagined that a routine appointment at my massage studio would unravel my entire marriage. The woman on my table that day had no idea who I was, and by the time she realized the truth, it was too late.

A young woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

A young woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

If you asked anyone to describe me, they’d probably say I’m the typical hardworking mom. My life revolves around my two boys, Ethan and Leo.

At 10 and 8 years old, they’re at that stage where they want to be independent but still need their mom for everything. And honestly, I love being there for them. The morning rush to get them ready for school, the endless soccer practices, and those quiet moments at bedtime when they tell me about their day motivates me to keep going.

A woman standing in her living room | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in her living room | Source: Midjourney

But my life isn’t all about the kids.

Five years ago, I opened my own massage studio, and it quickly became my second home. There’s something incredibly fulfilling about helping people relax.

It’s my passion, and I’ve poured my heart and soul into that place.

A masseuse massaging someone's hand | Source: Pexels

A masseuse massaging someone’s hand | Source: Pexels

Then there’s Henry, my husband of 12 years.

I met him when I was a young, vibrant woman, full of dreams and energy. Back then, I’d dress up for him, wear makeup, and make sure my hair was perfect. And he loved it.

We were inseparable. Henry always found a way to make me laugh and I continued believing we’d be happy forever. But life doesn’t stay the same.

A woman sitting near a window | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting near a window | Source: Midjourney

Over the years, I’ve become more practical.

I don’t spend hours on my hair or makeup anymore. I wear comfortable clothes and don’t spend money on fancy stuff because I believe I’d rather invest my time and money in my kids.

Henry never complained about it, but sometimes I wondered if he noticed.

It wasn’t that our marriage was bad. Henry still did his part. He was a present father, always at the boys’ games and school events. He fixed things around the house and never missed a birthday or anniversary.

I thought we were solid.

A couple holding hands | Source: Pexels

A couple holding hands | Source: Pexels

But over the past year, something felt… off. Henry started working late more often. At first, I didn’t question it. He’s a lawyer, and I assumed he was putting in extra hours to give us a comfortable life.

Still, there were moments that gnawed at me.

He’d get home late and head straight for the shower without saying much. Sometimes, he’d sit with us for dinner, but his mind seemed elsewhere.

I chalked it up to stress. After all, I was busy too. Running a business and raising kids wasn’t easy.

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

But deep down, a part of me knew something had changed. We weren’t the same couple we used to be.

I figured it was just part of being married for over a decade. You know, life gets busy, romance takes a backseat, and you fall into routines.

What I didn’t know was that my husband’s routine included someone else.

It was an ordinary Tuesday morning when Emily walked into my massage studio. She looked exactly like the kind of woman who turned heads without even trying.

A woman walking on a wooden floor | Source: Pexels

A woman walking on a wooden floor | Source: Pexels

Everything about her screamed luxury. The way her sleek hair cascaded over her shoulders, the designer bag she casually set down on the chair, and her expensive perfume that filled the room.

“Hi, I’m Emily. I have a 10 a.m. appointment,” she said with a friendly smile.

I returned the smile, though something about her felt off. Maybe it was her confidence or the way she seemed so at ease as if she owned the place.

I couldn’t put my finger on it, so I brushed it off.

A woman standing in her massage studio | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in her massage studio | Source: Midjourney

“Welcome, Emily. Please, make yourself comfortable,” I said, gesturing toward the massage room. “You can hang your things there and lie down on the table. I’ll be right with you.”

Once she settled in, I started my usual routine. The room was calm and serene, with soft music playing in the background. As I massaged her back, she let out a deep sigh.

“Finally,” she said, her voice muffled by the table’s headrest. “I’m going to relax.”

I chuckled. “Much stress?”

“Too much,” she groaned. “I really needed this.”

A woman lying on a massage table | Source: Midjourney

A woman lying on a massage table | Source: Midjourney

I kept my tone light and conversational. “Work stress?”

“Relationship stress,” she corrected. “My boyfriend is… complicated.”

I stayed silent, letting her talk if she wanted to. Some clients like to open up during their sessions, and I’ve learned that listening can be just as therapeutic as the massage itself.

Emily sighed again. “He’s in the process of a divorce, and it’s been messy. I don’t know why he hasn’t just finalized it already. His wife is such a drag.”

A back-view shot of a man | Source: Midjourney

A back-view shot of a man | Source: Midjourney

I felt a pang of sympathy. Divorce is never easy, especially when kids are involved. Still, something about the way she said “drag” didn’t sit right with me.

“I guess that’s always hard,” I said carefully. “Especially with kids in the picture.”

“Oh, they’re not my problem,” she said dismissively.

My hands froze for a split second before I forced myself to keep going. I was horrified. How could someone be so heartless?

But I reminded myself not to judge. I didn’t know the whole story.

A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

“I don’t know how his wife does it,” Emily continued. “She just works, looks after the kids, cooks, cleans… No wonder he’s leaving her. She’s boring. No makeup, no effort. Just a mom. And of course, he’ll get the house. It’s his. The kids can stay with her. I don’t want to raise someone else’s brats.”

Her words stung, though I wasn’t sure why. It was like she was describing me. I shook the thought away.

Pure coincidence, I told myself.

Emily’s phone suddenly buzzed on the side table. I glanced at it, and my heart nearly stopped.

A phone on a table | Source: Pexels

A phone on a table | Source: Pexels

The screen lit up with a picture of her and… Henry.

My husband. My Henry. Smiling with her. Holding her.

My heart pounded faster as I processed what I was seeing. My mind raced, replaying everything Emily had just said.

“Oh, I’ll answer later,” Emily said casually, reaching to silence the phone.

“No, dear,” I said, my voice unnervingly calm. “Please, answer it.”

A woman in her massage studio | Source: Midjourney

A woman in her massage studio | Source: Midjourney

She blinked, surprised by my tone. “What?”

I stepped back and crossed my arms. “It’s my husband—your boyfriend dreaming of divorcing me—calling you. Go ahead.”

For a moment, there was dead silence. Then she screamed, “What the hell did you do?! I CAN’T MOVE!”

I watched as Emily struggled to lift her head, her arms trembling as she tried to push herself off the massage table. But her body refused to cooperate.

For a moment, I panicked. Did I seriously paralyze her? But then I realized what had happened.

A worried woman | Source: Midjourney

A worried woman | Source: Midjourney

I must’ve pressed on a nerve in her neck. It was something I’d seen before in my practice. Temporary paralysis, usually gone in a few minutes.

Still, I wasn’t about to waste this opportunity.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “It’ll pass in a bit. Meanwhile, let’s have a chat.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You did this on purpose!”

I shrugged. “Prove it.”

Emily tried to wiggle her fingers, but they barely twitched. She huffed in frustration, glaring at me like a trapped animal.

“You’re insane!” she hissed.

An angry woman lying on a massage table | Source: Midjourney

An angry woman lying on a massage table | Source: Midjourney

“Maybe. Or maybe I’m just a woman who’s tired of being lied to.” I pulled over a chair and sat down calmly. “Now, about that house… You think it’s Henry’s?”

Her lips pressed into a tight line.

“Yeah, it’s not,” I continued. “It’s in my name. The kids? They’re staying with me. And guess what? Courts tend to favor the spouse who wasn’t sneaking around.”

“You’re bluffing,” she spat. “Henry said—”

“Henry said a lot of things, didn’t he?” I leaned forward. “Did he mention that I’ve supported him through job changes, sleepless nights with our kids, and years of marriage? Or did he just paint me as some boring wife?”

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

Emily’s nostrils flared. “He loves me.”

“Does he?” I laughed. “Or does he love the idea of you? The fun, carefree fling who doesn’t remind him of his responsibilities?”

Her phone buzzed again. This time, I picked it up and held it out for her to see.

“Would you like me to answer? Should I tell him you’re… indisposed?”

Emily’s expression shifted from anger to fear. “Don’t you dare.”

“Oh, I dare.” I smirked. “But first, let me take a little souvenir.”

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

I opened her phone and found a string of messages between her and Henry.

Sweet nothings. Promises of a future together. And a few photos that made my stomach turn.

I snapped pictures with my phone, making sure I had enough evidence to make my point clear. Then I locked her phone and set it back down.

“Why are you doing this?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“Because you need to know what’s coming.” I stood up and leaned over her. “When you can move again, feel free to let Henry know I’ll be calling my lawyer today.”

A woman holding a phone | Source: Pexels

A woman holding a phone | Source: Pexels

“You won’t win,” she muttered. “Henry won’t let you take everything.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh, he’ll have no choice. I’ve got proof now. And when the courts see what he’s been up to, he’ll be lucky if he walks away with his clothes.”

Emily finally managed to lift her head. Her arms were still weak, but she was starting to regain movement.

“Don’t worry,” I said with a smile. “You’ll be fine in a few minutes. But your relationship with Henry? That’s done.”

A worried woman | Source: Midjourney

A worried woman | Source: Midjourney

She glared at me as she swung her legs off the table, struggling to stand.

“You think you’ve won?” she raised an eyebrow. “He’ll come crawling back to me.”

“If you say so,” I laughed.

She grabbed her bag and stormed out, slamming the door behind her. I took a deep breath, letting the tension leave my body.

But I wasn’t done yet.

That evening, I waited for Henry to come home. He walked through the door like nothing had happened, kissed me on the cheek, and sat down at the dinner table.

A man standing in his house | Source: Midjourney

A man standing in his house | Source: Midjourney

“Henry,” I said, setting my phone on the table between us. “We need to talk.”

His eyes flickered to the phone, and I could see the color drain from his face.

“I know everything,” I said quietly. “The texts. The calls. Your little plan to divorce me.”

He opened his mouth, but I held up a hand to stop him.

“No excuses, Henry,” I said. “You want a divorce? You’ll get one. But you’re leaving with nothing. The house is mine. The kids stay with me. And if you try to fight me, I’ve got plenty of evidence to bury you in court.”

A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney

A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney

His face paled, and he slumped in his chair. “Sophia…”

I leaned in, my voice steady. “You should’ve thought about this before you lied to me. Now? You’re on your own.”

The next day, I filed for divorce.

Soon, Henry moved out, and Emily realized he couldn’t give her the life she wanted.

To be honest, leaving my husband wasn’t easy. But after thinking about what he’d been doing behind my back, I knew I had no other option.

I left Henry and promised to never look back again. Not even on days when I felt lonely.

A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney

If you enjoyed reading this story, here’s another one you might like: When Brooke returns home from a weeklong work trip, she’s eager to unwind with her favorite snack. But her peanut butter jar is mysteriously half-empty. Her husband, Aaron, is allergic, so who ate it? Determined to uncover the truth, Brooke turns to their security cameras and discovers a shocking secret: Aaron had been hiding a guest. What starts as suspicion unravels into an emotional journey neither of them expected.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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