A rude millionaire who believed money could buy anything demolished a poor old man’s house to build a mall. While checking the ruins later, he accidentally found his childhood photo among the rubble.
Can a person’s greed for riches blind them so miserably that they destroy someone else’s dreams to build theirs? In July 2021, Florida-based real estate tycoon Elliot Morris happened to shatter a poor old man’s dreams to fulfill his pursuit of wealth.
Elliot was looking for a perfect landscape to build a deluxe mall in the city when his eyes fell upon old Joe Brooke’s land. The young builder loved the location and fixed his mind to raising his new mall there.
He decided to tear down the old man’s house on the plot. When old Joe objected to it, Elliot saw him as nothing more than a thorn in his way that was easy to get rid of…
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash
“Please, I beg of you. I don’t have anybody, and this house is the only treasured memory I have of my late wife,” Joe begged Elliot, who had visited with his men. “I have nowhere to go. Please don’t make me homeless.”
“How did you get my mom’s photo?” the man asked old Joe. “That’s me with her. Do you know my mom? What is your relationship with her?”
But Elliot turned a deaf ear to the poor old man’s pleas. “Look here, old man. I already talked to the mayor, and he is on my side. I’m bringing this thing down in two weeks. All you’ve got is 14 days to pack your stuff and leave with whatever money I give you. Is it clear?”
Poor Joe was worried. He refused to accept a dime in exchange for his beloved house and kept crying. But Elliot was far from kind and walked away, grinning. “Two weeks and I’ll be back,” Joe heard the rude rich man’s faint voice from outside.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Joe’s house was a bit farther away from his clustered neighborhood, so nobody stepped forward in his favor. The two weeks were nothing short of nightmarish for the poor old man. He hoped something would happen and change the rich man’s mind. He anticipated a miracle and never packed his things. But before he knew it, the day for the demolition had arrived.
“Please, I beg you! Please don’t destroy my house!” old Joe pleaded with Elliot and his men, who arrived two weeks later with heavy machinery outside his house to tear it down.
“Didn’t I tell you to pack your things?” Elliot retorted. “It’s not my problem anymore. Here, take this check and leave. I don’t have time to listen to your silly, old stories.”
Elliot ordered one of his men to take old Joe to the nursing facility. He handed out the check for the house, but the old man refused to take it.
Before leaving, a teary-eyed Joe looked at Elliot and said, “You’ve changed a lot, young man. Money has blinded you and ruined your soul…You cannot buy everything with money.”
“What rubbish! Take this old man from here,” Elliot ordered. He brushed Joe’s words as nothing and walked further to watch the house being torn down. Joy filled his heart as he saw the bricks and roof chipping away from the building, crashing onto the ground.
“I’ll be back in a while. Keep working, and do not touch anything until I arrive,” he said, driving past the dusty house in ruins.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash
That evening, Elliot returned to the demolished spot to celebrate his feat. “Getting rid of that old thorn was so easy!” he exclaimed as he walked over the broken bricks.
Just then, he stumbled upon the broken glass of a photo frame. He looked at the photo and gasped in shock.
“Mom? What is her photo doing here?” he said, picking up the picture. Elliot dusted it and realized it was an old photo of his mom with a baby.
“That’s me,” he exclaimed again. “But what is our photo doing in this old man’s house? I have to find out,” he said and immediately drove to the nursing home to see Joe.
“You? Why have you come here? Aren’t you happy yet?” the old man cried after seeing the young builder. “What more have you come to destroy?”
Joe refused to look at Elliot, who held his hand and showed him the photo he’d recovered from the demolished ruins.
“How did you get my mom’s photo?” he asked. “That’s me with her. Do you know my mom? What is your relationship with her?” Elliot was furious. He had known that his mother was a single parent, and finding her picture in Joe’s house raised many questions in his mind. “Tell me…how do you know my mother?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash
Joe, who remained silent, finally spoke out, revealing something Elliot never knew.
“I found your mother Samantha on the road with a baby in her arms 30 years ago,” Joe said. “I was on my way home from my wife’s funeral and found your mom hopeless and drenched in the rain while trying to protect you.”
As Elliot heard this, tears slowly started to fill his eyes. “Then what happened?” he curiously asked.
“I took her in and gave her shelter. Her boyfriend, your dad, had kicked her out for another woman,” Joe narrated. “Samantha lived in my house for five years, and I treated her like my daughter.”
“But if she lived with you, why did she move out? We had a bigger house,” Elliot asked, still doubtful of old Joe’s revelation. “Is there something I’m missing?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“I bought her a new house and helped her start a small business from my savings. She grew into a successful businesswoman but never forgot this old man. Samantha often visited me until she died ten years ago,” Joe explained. “I had also been to her funeral, but who would notice this poor, old man. You had grown into a successful, rich man, and I was happy to see how she raised you.”
At this point, Elliot’s heart broke. He recalled his mother once telling him about a loving father who was behind her success. But all this while, he had no idea that she had been talking about old Joe.
Guilty and heartbroken, Elliot decided to mend his mistake. The next day, he put up an “Under Construction” board on Joe’s property and ordered his men to build a new house there. In less than four months, a beautiful home replaced the one he demolished.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash
Elliot gifted this house to Joe and apologized to him for being so ignorant and forgetful of his past. He also promised to do his best to return the old man’s kindness. But the humble man he was, Joe forgave the young builder and refused any form of help.
“You are my grandson, and I will accept only this house from you, and nothing more. I do not expect any material help from you other than your love,” Joe said, creating a massive impact on Elliot. “You are always welcome to visit this old man as my grandson, not as a wealthy man filled with guilt. Even your mom wanted to help me, and I had told her the same!”
Joe happily moved back to his new house and lived a modest life. He inspired Elliot and taught him that money perishes but not compassion and love.
In the end, Elliot built a couple of retirement homes for older adults in the city. He helped people in need and never tore down another house that belonged to someone else unless they were willing.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash
What can we learn from this story?
- Do not ruin someone else’s happiness to build your dreams. In Elliot’s efforts to build his mall, he destroyed old Joe’s beloved house. He did not consider the old man’s pleas and ruined his happiness to fulfill his own.
- Create something useful for others when you get a chance. When Elliot realized his mistake, he apologized to Joe and built a house for him. And because he had the resources, he did his best to help the needy.
We Adopted a 3-Year-Old Boy – When My Husband Went to Bathe Him for the First Time, He Shouted, ‘We Must Return Him!’
After years of infertility, we adopted Sam, a sweet 3-year-old with ocean-blue eyes. But when my husband went to bathe Sam, he ran out, yelling, “We must return him!” His panic made no sense until I spotted the distinctive marking on Sam’s foot.
I never expected that bringing home our adopted son would unravel the fabric of my marriage. But looking back now, I realize that some gifts come wrapped in heartache, and sometimes the universe has a twisted sense of timing.
A thoughtful woman | Source: Midjourney
“Are you nervous?” I asked Mark as we drove to the agency.
My hands fidgeted with the tiny blue sweater I’d bought for Sam, our soon-to-be son. The fabric was impossibly soft against my fingers, and I imagined his small shoulders filling it out.
“Me? Nah,” Mark replied, but his knuckles were white against the steering wheel. “Just ready to get this show on the road. Traffic’s making me antsy.”
A man driving a car | Source: Pexels
He drummed his fingers on the dash, a nervous tick I’d noticed more frequently lately.
“You’ve checked the car seat three times,” he added with a forced chuckle. “Pretty sure you’re the nervous one.”
“Of course I am!” I smoothed the sweater again. “We’ve waited so long for this.”
The adoption process had been grueling, mostly handled by me while Mark focused on his expanding business.
A woman staring thoughtfully out a car window | Source: Midjourney
The endless paperwork, home studies, and interviews had consumed my life for months as I searched agency lists for a child. We’d initially planned to adopt an infant, but the waiting lists stretched endlessly, so I started expanding our options.
That’s how I found Sam’s photo — a three-year-old boy with eyes like summer skies and a smile that could melt glaciers.
His mother had abandoned him, and something in those eyes spoke directly to my heart. Maybe it was the hint of sadness behind his smile, or perhaps it was fate.
A little boy with striking blue eyes | Source: Midjourney
“Look at this little guy,” I said to Mark one evening, showing him the photo on my tablet. The blue glow illuminated his face as he studied it.
He’d smiled so softly I knew he wanted this boy as much as I did. “He looks like a great kid. Those eyes are something else.”
“But could we handle a toddler?”
“Of course we can! No matter how old the kid is, I know you’ll be a great mom.” He squeezed my shoulder as I stared at the picture.
A woman staring at her tablet | Source: Midjourney
We completed the application process and, after what seemed like forever, we went to the agency to bring Sam home. The social worker, Ms. Chen, led us to a small playroom where Sam sat building a tower of blocks.
“Sam,” she said softly, “remember the nice couple we talked about? They’re here.”
I kneeled beside him, my heart thundering. “Hi, Sam. I love your tower. May I help?”
He studied me for a long moment, nodded, and handed me a red block. That simple gesture felt like the beginning of everything.
A child playing with toy blocks | Source: Midjourney
The drive home was quiet. Sam clutched a stuffed elephant we’d brought him, occasionally making small trumpet sounds that made Mark chuckle. I kept glancing back at him in his car seat, hardly believing he was real.
At home, I started unpacking Sam’s few belongings. His small duffle seemed impossibly light for containing a child’s whole world.
“I can give him his bath,” Mark offered, from the door. “Give you a chance to set up his room exactly how you want it.”
A man standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney
“Great idea!” I beamed, thinking how wonderful it was that Mark wanted to bond right away. “Don’t forget the bath toys I picked up for him.”
They disappeared down the hall, and I hummed as I arranged Sam’s clothes in his new dresser. Each tiny sock and T-shirt made this feel more real. The peace lasted exactly forty-seven seconds.
“WE MUST RETURN HIM!”
Mark’s shout hit me like a physical blow.
A woman looking over her shoulder | Source: Midjourney
He burst from the bathroom as I raced into the hall. Mark’s face was ghost-white.
“What do you mean, return him?” I struggled to keep my voice steady, gripping the doorframe. “We just adopted him! He’s not a sweater from Target!”
Mark paced the hallway, running his hands through his hair, his breathing ragged. “I just realized… I can’t do this. I can’t treat him like my own. This was a mistake.”
“Why would you say that?” My voice cracked like thin ice.
A confused woman | Source: Midjourney
“You were excited just hours ago! You were making elephant noises with him in the car!”
“I don’t know; it just hit me. I can’t bond with him.” He wouldn’t meet my eyes, staring instead at a point somewhere over my shoulder. His hands trembled.
“You’re being heartless!” I snapped, pushing past him into the bathroom.
Sam sat in the tub looking small and confused, and still wearing everything but his socks and shoes. He held his elephant clutched tight against his chest.
A boy holding a stuffed elephant | Source: Midjourney
“Hey, buddy,” I said, forcing cheerfulness into my voice while my world crumbled. “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay? Would Mr. Elephant like a bath too?”
Sam shook his head. “He’s scared of water.”
“That’s okay. He can watch from here.” I set the toy safely on the counter. “Arms up!”
As I helped Sam undress, I noticed something that stopped my heart.
A stunned woman | Source: Midjourney
Sam had a distinctive birthmark on his left foot. I’d seen that exact mark before, on Mark’s foot, during countless summer days by the pool. The same unique curve, the same placement.
My hands trembled as I bathed Sam, and my mind raced.
“You’ve got magic bubbles,” Sam said, poking at the foam I’d barely registered adding to the water.
“They’re extra special bubbles,” I muttered, watching him play. His smile, which had seemed so uniquely his own, now held echoes of my husband’s.
A bubble bath | Source: Pexels
That night, after tucking Sam into his new bed, I confronted Mark in our bedroom. The distance between us on the king-size mattress felt infinite.
“The birthmark on his foot is identical to yours.”
Mark froze in the act of removing his watch, then forced a laugh that sounded like breaking glass. “Pure coincidence. Lots of people have birthmarks.”
“I want you to take a DNA test.”
A woman with her arms crossed | Source: Midjourney
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he snapped, turning away. “You’re letting your imagination run wild. It’s been a stressful day.”
But his reaction told me everything. The next day, while Mark was at work, I took a few strands of hair from his brush and sent them for testing, along with a swab I took from Sam’s cheek during tooth-brushing time. I told him we were checking for cavities.
The wait was excruciating. Mark grew increasingly distant, spending more time at the office. Meanwhile, Sam and I grew closer.
A woman playing with a child | Source: Midjourney
He started calling me “Mama” within days, and each time he did, my heart swelled with love even as it ached with uncertainty.
We developed a routine of morning pancakes, bedtime stories, and afternoon walks to the park where he’d collect “treasure” (leaves and interesting rocks) for his windowsill.
When the results arrived two weeks later, they confirmed what I’d suspected. Mark was Sam’s biological father. I sat at the kitchen table, staring at the paper until the words blurred, hearing Sam’s laughter float in from the backyard where he played with his new bubble wand.
A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
“It was one night,” Mark finally confessed when I confronted him with the results. “I was drunk, at a conference. I never knew… I never thought…” He reached for me, his face crumpling. “Please, we can work this out. I’ll do better.”
I stepped back, my voice ice-cold. “You knew the moment you saw that birthmark. That’s why you panicked.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, sinking into a kitchen chair. “When I saw him in the bath, it all came rushing back. That woman… I never got her name. I was ashamed, I tried to forget…”
An emotional man | Source: Midjourney
“An accident four years ago, while I was going through fertility treatments? Crying every month when they failed?” Each question felt like glass in my throat.
The next morning, I visited a lawyer, a sharp-eyed woman named Janet who listened without judgment. She confirmed what I hoped — being Sam’s legal adoptive mother gave me parental rights. Mark’s previously unknown paternity didn’t automatically grant him custody.
“I’m filing for divorce,” I told Mark that evening after Sam was asleep. “And I’m seeking full custody of Sam.”
A determined woman | Source: Midjourney
“Amanda, please—”
“His mother already abandoned him and you were ready to do the same,” I cut in. “I won’t let that happen.”
His face crumpled. “I love you.”
“Not enough to come clean. It seems to me that you loved yourself more.”
Mark didn’t fight it, so the divorce proceedings were quick. Sam adjusted better than I expected, though sometimes he asked why Daddy didn’t live with us anymore.
A boy in his bed | Source: Midjourney
“Sometimes grown-ups make mistakes,” I’d tell him, stroking his hair. “But it doesn’t mean they don’t love you.” It was the kindest truth I could offer.
Years have passed since then, and Sam’s grown into a remarkable young man. Mark sends birthday cards and occasional emails but keeps his distance — his choice, not mine.
People sometimes ask if I regret not walking away when I discovered the truth. I always shake my head.
A woman hugging her son | Source: Midjourney
Sam wasn’t just an adopted child anymore; he was my son, biology, and betrayal be damned. Love isn’t always simple, but it’s always a choice. I vowed never to give him up, except to his future fiancée, of course.
Here’s another story: Despite being a struggling single mom, I had to help the elderly woman I found out in the cold on Christmas Eve. I never imagined that my simple act of kindness would lead to a mysterious luxury SUV at my door — or heal my broken heart.
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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