Two brothers would see an old man sitting by the sea every day on the same chair. One day, they were bothered when they found the chair empty and decided to find out why.
Adam, 8, and Peter, 10, visited the seaside with their mom Alice every day. They would walk together along the shore, enjoying the sea breeze.
Every single day, they would come across an old man who would sit motionlessly on a chair, watching the waves. “Mom, is that man okay?” Adam asked one day.
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“He is, sweetheart. He just likes to be alone. People have tried to talk to him, but he always just tries to avoid people. Let’s not bother him,” Alice replied.
The brothers couldn’t help but feel drawn towards the old man. They were curious as to why he would sit motionlessly on the same chair every day.
One day, they thought of a plan to approach him. While playing catch, they threw the frisbee in his direction so that they could come closer. When they ran up and apologized, the old man said, “You threw it here on purpose. I know you did… You,” he said, pointing at Adam, “you are great at throwing. And you,” the old man smiled, pointing at Peter, “are great at catching. So I know this was not an accident.”
The brothers’ eyes widened in shock. They didn’t know that the old man had been observing them, too.
For some reason, despite Alice knowing that the man didn’t talk to other people, he indulged the two boys in a long conversation. After they introduced one another, Peter finally asked the question they’ve been longing to ask: “Sir, why do you sit out here every day and watch the sea?”
“Well, I am here waiting for my brother. I have been waiting here for 10 years,” he responded. Adam and Peter looked at each other, confused.
“We were in the army together and were separated and sent to different countries. This happened a long time ago. When we last saw each other, we promised to meet at the same place, right here, where we constantly used to walk with our mother,” the old man explained.
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“You wait for your brother every day?” Adam asked. “How do you know he’s still coming?” he asked. The old man smiled at Adam’s innocence.
“That’s the thing. I don’t know if he’s coming. I used to come, years ago, but my work transferred me to another city. Now, for the past 10 years of living here, I’ve been coming daily. They gave me his army dog tag, but they never found him. He is still missing,” he said, taking his brother’s dog tag out of his pocket.
Adam and Peter were sitting beside each other at that moment. The old man patted their heads and said, “That’s why you must take care of each other, boys. Brotherly love is the greatest strength in the world.”
After sharing his story, the old man introduced himself as Walter. The boys enjoyed his company that ever since that day, they would make it a point to spend time with him, bringing sandwiches and drinks. They would spend the afternoons talking and listening to each other’s stories.
One day, Walter and the brothers were surprised to see each other walking in the same direction while on the way home. “We live near each other!” Peter exclaimed. Walter couldn’t help but smile.
“I guess we do, sweet boy,” Walter said, waving before he entered his house.
The two boys felt extremely close to Walter already, after days of talking to him. They were so moved by Walter’s story that they decided to use social media to spread it, hoping to find his brother.
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One day, they went to the beach to find him and tell him about what they did. But when they got there, he was not at his usual spot. “He comes here every day! Every single day! Why isn’t he here?” Adam asked his mom.
“This can’t be. Something must have happened to him. We need to go to his house,” Peter said. At that, Alice allowed them to check Walter’s house by accompanying them there.
When they got there, they knocked. After a couple of seconds, Walter opened the door. The boys exhaled with relief. “Walter! Why didn’t you come to the beach today? Have you given up?” Adam asked him. Walter was smiling. Behind him stood a man who looked exactly like him.
The two boys were taken by surprise when the man suddenly shouted, “IT’S THEM! THOSE TWO BOYS POSTED ON THE INTERNET! I RECOGNIZED THEM RIGHT AWAY!”
Walter’s brother, James, found him thanks to the publication that Adam and Peter had put up. Walter smiled and hugged the two boys. “Thank you for finding my brother after forty-four long years,” he said, giving them both hugs.
It turns out that James was injured at the battle he was in, and he ended up losing his memory. He was sent back to the US, where he was diagnosed with dissociative amnesia caused by the overwhelming stress brought about by the war.
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“I was told I would likely regain my memory either slowly, or all at once. In the past few decades, I slowly started to remember things like my first name, the fact that I lived in California, but nothing conclusive enough to bring back my old life,” James explained.
“Then one day, I was looking through the internet when I saw a post by these two sweet boys. It had a photo of you, Walter, and I suddenly remembered you and our brotherhood. I just knew we were brothers. I made my way to the address they posted right away,” he added.
At that, Walter and James took out their army dog tags from their pockets and handed one each to Adam and Peter. “We no longer need this. Because of you, we’ve found each other again. These are yours now. May it be a reminder to always take care of each other,” Walter said.
As they lived near each other, Adam and Peter would always visit Walter and James, who ended up moving in with his brother.
What can we learn from this story?
- Keeping the faith can be rewarding. Every day, Walter hoped that his brother would show up. One day, after choosing to share his story with Adam and Peter, his brother eventually showed up.
- The most unexpected relationships can mean the most. Adam and Peter never thought they’d get close to Walter, but when they did, and it brought about life-changing memories for everyone.
Share this story with your loved ones. It might inspire them and make their day.
If you liked this story, you might like this one about a little boy who received a birthday cake with a note hidden in it.
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.
I Looked After My Elderly Neighbor, but Her Son Blamed Me for Not Doing Enough – The Fallout Was Harsh
Debbie, living in a quiet neighborhood, becomes close to her elderly neighbor, Mrs. Jenkins, and begins to care for her. But when Deb’s mother has to undergo surgery, she has no option but to go home and care for her mother… only for her to receive a horrible phone call from Steve, Mrs. Jenkins’ son, accusing her of not doing enough.
Look, I didn’t want revenge on anybody, especially not for just being kind to an elderly neighbor.
I live in a quiet neighborhood, and my next-door neighbor, Mrs. Jenkins, is an 82-year-old widow. She’s frail, lonely, and honestly, sad. It’s like she’s been forgotten by her own family. Her only son, Steve, lives just 20 minutes away but rarely visits.
Whenever I saw her on the porch, she seemed so lost, staring off into the distance. My heart went out to her, so I started helping where I could.
For over a year, I’ve been running small errands. Groceries, appointments, clearing her driveway of leaves in the fall and snow in the winter.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Debbie,” she said to me one morning after I dropped off her groceries, including some freshly baked bread for her breakfast.
“I’m here for anything you need, Marlene,” I said.
Honestly, it wasn’t much, but I felt good knowing that I was helping. Especially since her real family was so absent.
“Steve?” she said one day when I asked about him. “That kid means everything to me, but I know I don’t mean as much to my son. It’s okay. You’re here.”
She would always smile like I was her favorite person.
This man, who barely knew his mother’s daily life, had the audacity to accuse me of not doing enough.
But things took a dark turn when I had to leave town for a few weeks. I couldn’t help it, my mother was in the hospital after being diagnosed with fibroids and cysts that needed to be removed.
I had to be there with her. There was no way about it.
“I’m coming, Mom,” I said. “Don’t you worry about a thing.”
“But, Deb,” my mother whined. “I don’t want to disturb your routine. Dad’s here, I’ll be fine with him.”
“Mom, I work from home. I can work from anywhere,” I said sternly. “And anyway, Dad’s idea of taking care of someone is making chicken noodle soup. That’s pretty much it. You’re going for invasive surgery. You need me.”
Before I left, I stocked Mrs. Jenkins’ house with groceries, made sure that she had everything she needed, and asked our neighbor Karen to check in on her from time to time.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can, Marlene,” I said. “Don’t you worry about a thing. And I’ve asked little Josh to come over and check your mail. He knows that if there’s anything in your mailbox, he has to bring it right to you.”
“Thank you, darling,” she said. “You’re too good to me.”
I thought I’d covered all my bases.
Ten days into my stay with my parents, my phone rang while I was cooking dinner. I didn’t recognize the number, but I picked up anyway.
“Debbie?” the voice snapped when I answered. “Are you the neighbor who’s supposed to be taking care of my mom?”
It was Steve. Mrs. Jenkins’ son. The man who barely showed up for his own mother.
For a second, I got nervous, hoping that nothing had happened to her.
“I just got a call from my mother,” he continued, not even stopping for me to speak. “She ran out of milk. And you’re out of town? Why didn’t you make sure she had enough before you left?”
I was absolutely floored. This man, who barely knew his mother’s daily life, had the audacity to accuse me of not doing enough.
Me?
“Steve,” I said, trying to remain calm. “I’m out of town because my mom is in the hospital. This is where I need to be. I stocked your mom up before I left. And I spoke to Karen, our neighbor, to check on her.”
Instead of apologizing or offering to help like any normal person, he shot back.
“Well, that’s just not good enough, Debbie. If you’re going to take care of my mother, then you need to do it right! I can’t be running around getting her things whenever you drop the ball.”
I almost screamed. The audacity of this man was astounding.
How could he accuse me of dropping the ball when I’d been doing everything for her? Especially while he sat back and did nothing!
I took a deep breath.
“Steve, she’s your mother. You can’t expect me to do everything for her while you’re right there, and do nothing! Maybe you should help her out for once.”
His response was just sad.
“You’re pathetic,” he said. “You don’t even do that much for her.”
Before I could retaliate, I just cut the call. I didn’t want to say anything worse, and I also didn’t want to risk it getting back to Marlene and upsetting her.
Later, as I sat with my mom in her hospital room, I couldn’t stop replaying that conversation. By the time I got home, I knew exactly what I needed to do.
“Go home, honey,” my mother said when I told her about Steve’s phone call. “I’m doing just fine, and my progress is great. The doctor is really happy with me. I told you, Dad and I will be fine!”
I really didn’t want to leave, but I missed my own home. And I missed working from my own space, too. So, I left a few days later.
When I got back, the first thing I did was check on Mrs. Jenkins. Thankfully, she was fine. It turns out that Karen had taken care of the milk situation, and Mrs. Jenkins had no idea about the chaos Steve had stirred up.
“What? Really? He said that?” she exclaimed, shocked.
Steve had to step up. He was not happy about it. Not at all.
As glad as I was that Steve hadn’t fed her any stories about me, I wasn’t going to allow him to get away with this.
The next day, I gently told Mrs. Jenkins that I wouldn’t be able to help her as much anymore.
“I have other commitments, Marlene,” I said sadly. “I have to check on my mother more often, too. She’s going to need me for the next few weeks.”
She looked disappointed, but she reassured me that she understood.
A few weeks went by, and Steve had no choice but to step up. Naturally, he wasn’t happy about it. Sometimes, as I worked from my living room, I could see him showing up to his mother’s house. He always looked irritated, like running an errand for his mother was the biggest burden anyone could have placed on him.
When I did visit Mrs. Jenkins next, she smiled and told me that she was relying on Steve more.
“I call him for everything,” she said. “Milk, teabags, and even help with the gutters.”
One afternoon, Mrs. Jenkins asked me to help her sort through some old papers. That’s when we stumbled upon her will.
Naturally, Steve was listed as the sole beneficiary.
“It’s a shame that Steve cannot spend more time with you,” I said casually. “You know, with work and whatnot.”
“I know, dear,” Mrs. Jenkins sighed. “But he’s been like that. Sometimes I think he only sticks around for what I’ll leave him.”
That was all the confirmation I needed.
“You know, Marlene,” I said. “You don’t have to leave everything to Steve. It might be nice to donate some to charity or leave something for the people who have always been there for you. That’s a sweet gesture. Think about it.”
“You’re right, Debbie,” she said. “I’ll think about it.”
A week later, Mrs. Jenkins updated her will. Steve still got his share, but she also included several charities to get vast portions of her estate. She left a little something for me, too, though I didn’t ask for it.
It wasn’t about the money. It was about showing Steve that neglect and greed have consequences.
When Steve found out, he stormed to my house, knocking furiously on my door.
“You convinced my mother to give away my inheritance? You manipulative little…”
I cut him off before he could finish his sentence.
“I didn’t convince her of anything. Maybe if you spent more time with her, you’d know what she really wanted.”
Steve spluttered, his face turning red. He shouted a few more insults and stormed off, but I could see it in his eyes.
He knew that he had lost.
Now, the lovely Mrs. Jenkins is happier than ever, and I’m taking her to the ballet later this week. Steve is sulking, likely regretting all the time he wasted.
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And as for me? I’m happy knowing that Mrs. Jenkins isn’t being taken advantage of by Steve.
Sometimes, the best revenge is just letting someone realize their own failure.
What would you have done?
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