A woman finally got a good job when her son left for college and paid for everything he needed since then. Seven years passed, and they only talked through a screen, but one day, he returned and couldn’t believe what had happened.
“Chris, don’t worry about anything. I’m paying for as much as I can. Whatever you need, call me,” Olive told her son at the train station. He was on his way to New York for college, and she had finally landed a well-paying job.
However, for most of his life until then, she couldn’t afford much. His presents were always second-hand, as she raised him alone and studied at night. He never lacked food or shelter, but Olive always felt guilty for not being able to give him the things his friends had.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
She finally got a decent salary and was ready to give him anything he wanted.
“Thank you, Mom,” Chris said, hugged her, and got on the train.
He knocked on the door. No response. He looked through the window and couldn’t believe it. There was nothing inside.
***
“Mrs. Franklin, you should come to visit! I’m so huge now!” Chris’ fiancée, Rosalie, told her through the computer screen.
Chris had met her during his junior year, and they were both about to graduate. However, Rosalie found out she was pregnant, and they got engaged. Sadly, Olive had yet to meet her in person because they were both studying so hard, and Rosalie couldn’t travel much in her condition.
Meanwhile, Olive couldn’t visit either because she was working extra hard. Over the years, she took on more and more hours at work despite her excellent salary because she was paying for Chris’ college, his housing, his expenses, and her own. However, she lived as frugally as possible.
“Soon, Rosalie! I hope to meet you soon. When I get a free moment,” Olive nodded, and finally, Chris appeared on the screen. He told Rosalie he needed to talk to his mother, and she left the room.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Mom, I wanted to ask you something,” Chris started, scratching the back of his head. “Since Rosalie and I are going to graduate soon and have a baby, I was wondering if you could help me with a house. We looked at one already. It’s in New Jersey because there’s no way we could live in the city, but it’s beautiful. It reminds me of home.”
Olive stared at her son for a while and thought hard. “Well, I… don’t know,” she muttered, thinking about her savings and hard work. She was finally planning for retirement.
“Please,” Chris begged and talked about the house cost and how much they would need for a down payment. He also said that Rosalie didn’t have anything because she had no family to help out.
“Ok, Chris, ok. I think we can work something out,” Olive finally said. She would have to deplete her entire savings and, maybe, live even more frugally. But it was possible.
“Thank you! Thank you, Mom! I don’t know what I would do without you!” Chris said, almost crying on the video call, and Olive smiled, knowing it was all worth it.
***
“I wish you guys could come this Christmas,” Olive commented in front of her computer, as she did many times over the years. Her son had left her house seven years ago and had not returned to his Maryland hometown. All they did was video chat. She was missing her granddaughter’s life and hated it. But everyone was busy.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Olive worked now more than ever because she still helped her son often and had depleted her savings a second time when he wanted to start a business. She never asked him for anything in return but wished they would at least visit, as she couldn’t.
“We can’t, Mom. Not this year,” Chris said, shaking his head. “But thank you for the gifts you already sent Mallory. She loves them. You’re an amazing grandma.”
“Put her on the screen,” Olive requested gently and watched her granddaughter longing to hold her in her arms.
***
Olive didn’t know that Chris was finally planning to visit her. He couldn’t buy plane tickets for Rosalie and Mallory to come with him, but he was finally happy to see his mother.
However, his taxi stopped in front of his house, and Chris frowned. It was 9 p.m., and the lights were completely out. Chris told his cad driver to wait for a second and got out. The porch furniture was gone. The plants her mother loved were also missing. The garden was overgrown, and even the welcome mat was absent.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
He knocked on the door. No response. He looked through the window and couldn’t believe it. There was nothing inside. Did Mom move? Why didn’t she tell me? he wondered, concerned.
“Chris? Is that you?” a female voice asked.
He turned around and saw Mrs. Torres, an old woman who had lived next door to them all his life. “Mrs. Torres. Hi, there!”
“What are you doing here, kid?” she asked.
“I’m here to see Mom. Do you know where she is?” he asked, frowning.
“Oh, dear. Your mother moved away about two years ago. She sold that house, but the new owners moved just a few weeks ago. I don’t know who’ll be moving in now,” Mrs. Torres said, her forehead wrinkling as she rambled on.
“She never told me,” Chris muttered. “Do you know where she is?”
“Sure, I have her address written. Come with me,” Mrs. Torres went to her house and gave him a piece of paper.
Chris read the address and frowned. The address pointed to a side of town that wasn’t too nice. “Do you know why she moved there?” he asked the older woman.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“No, honey. But I know she has a roommate now,” Mrs. Torres shrugged, and Chris was even more baffled.
He finally got back in his taxi and gave him the new address. He reached an apartment complex with run-down paintwork on a poorly lit street. It was terrible. Also, he quickly entered the building and went up easily because there was no security.
“Chris? What are you doing here?” Olive asked, shocked when she answered the door.
“Mom! What is going on? Why did you sell the house?” Chris questioned, dismayed and bewildered.
“Oh, Chris. Come in,” she sighed and ushered her son into her tiny living room.
Olive explained that the first time he asked her for money for the house, she had some savings and depleted him to buy them the house. However, when Chris asked her for money for his business, she had not saved anything and decided to sell her house and give him almost all the profit.
Chris was shocked by this news and the fact that he had been so oblivious. So careless. Such a lousy son. “Why didn’t you say anything? Mom! I wouldn’t have taken that money if I’d known,” he muttered, breathless.
“But I wanted you to succeed, sweetie. I failed to give you so much when you were younger, I just didn’t…” she tried to explain, but Chris cut her off.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Mom, you gave me everything I ever needed. I only asked because I thought you had it. I shouldn’t have asked. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for not asking about you. I’m sorry for not visiting. I’m so sorry you have to live in this part of town and with a roommate at your age, for God’s sake!” Chris apologized, frustrated tears coming out of his eyes.
Olive teared up as well and hugged her son dearly while Chris made her so many promises. He called Rosalie that night, explained everything, and they both agreed that it was time to move Olive closer to them. Luckily, she got a new job in New Jersey quickly.
Eventually, they built an in-law suite for her so that Olive wouldn’t miss another second of her granddaughter’s life. And slowly but surely, Chris repaid his mother for every penny she had given him for the house and business – which took off exponentially and allowed them to live comfortably. But most of all, Chris never allowed Olive to sacrifice anything else again.
What can we learn from this story?
- Visit and talk to your parents as much as possible, especially those who give you everything unconditionally. Not everyone is lucky enough to have a mother like Olive, and Chris should’ve checked on her more often.
- Don’t feel guilty if you can’t buy your kids the same as other parents. All they need is your love. Children don’t need fancy new sneakers or the latest games. All they need is your support and love.
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 man who quit his job to take his mom from a nursing home and doesn’t find her there.
This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers 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 Accidentally Found a Hidden Nanny Cam in My Bathroom and Went Pale When I Learned Why My 11-Year-Old Son Put It There
Finding the hidden camera tucked under my bathtub was terrifying, and realizing my son had put it there was even worse. But his tearful explanation made me realize he was on a mission to reawaken a part of me I thought was lost forever.
The jigsaw puzzle on our kitchen table had stayed the same for weeks, and I was getting worried. My son, Drake, and I used to love them, but things were much different now.
A puzzle on a table | Source: Pexels
These days, he would rush straight to his room after school and shut the door firmly behind him. That is… after coming home later than usual.
I stirred the pasta sauce and checked my phone again: 6:45 p.m. Two hours late, just like yesterday. Through the kitchen window, I watched our neighbors walking their dogs and laughing together.
Our house used to buzz with that kind of energy. Now it felt like Drake and I were living in separate worlds, connected only by quick hellos and leftover dinners. Did this happen to all pre-teens?
A woman concerned | Source: Pexels
A few minutes later, the front door creaked open.
“Hey, Mom.” Drake’s voice floated through the hallway, followed by the thud of his backpack hitting the floor.
“Kitchen,” I called out happily. “Dinner’s almost ready.”
He poked his head around the corner. I saw his messy hair covered by a backward baseball cap. Something about his eyes made me feel like my boy was back, even for just a second.
Boy with a backwards baseball cap | Source: Pexels
But they soon darted to the floor when I looked at him. I knew something was going on, but I had no idea how to address it. My boy almost seemed older than his few years.
“Sorry I’m late. Chess club ran long.”
“Chess club?” I raised my eyebrows. “Yesterday it was math tutoring. And Tuesday was yearbook committee.”
“Oh yeah, I do all those now.” He shuffled his feet. “Can I eat in my room? Got tons of homework.”
Math book and notebook | Source: Pexels
I gripped the wooden spoon tighter, accidentally dripping tomato sauce onto the stovetop, and decided enough was enough. “Drake, what’s really going on?” I asked, turning and putting one hand on my hip.
“Nothing! I told you, just busy with school stuff,” he shrugged and moved further into the kitchen. Without meeting my gaze, he grabbed a plate, scooped up some pasta, and disappeared before I could press further.
Pasta dish | Source: Pexels
I sighed and wondered to the heavens for the millionth time if I should intervene. Maybe I wouldn’t get an answer from up above, but I could try to find some of my own.
I checked the hallway, and his door was shut as usual, but he had left his backpack in the living room. It was my chance.
Inside, crumpled between textbooks, I found a piece of paper with an address scrawled in unfamiliar handwriting: “1247 Maple Street. Don’t be late. This is it.”
Backpack on the floor | Source: Unsplash
What was going on? I wondered, horrified.
***
That night, I found myself going through his old baby photos, spread across my bedroom floor like pieces of a life I barely recognized anymore.
There he was, two years old, grinning with spaghetti sauce all over his face. That happy little boy used to tell me everything. Now he barely looked at me.
Toddler covered in spaghetti sauce | Source: Midjourney
The parent-teacher conference from last week played in my head.
“Drake seems… distracted lately,” Mrs. Peterson had said, sliding his failed math test across her desk. “He’s been falling asleep in class. When he’s awake, he’s always scribbling in his notebook, but it’s not notes from the lesson.”
How could he be getting a grade like that with math tutoring? Was it time to pull the plug on all other clubs?
A math test | Source: Pexels
Either way, I knew sleep wouldn’t come, so I decided to take a shower.
The bathroom was my sanctuary, the one place I could relax and belt out old songs without anyone hearing. Tonight’s selection was “Sweet Child O’ Mine.”
The steam rose around me as I hit the chorus, and I remembered how I used to dream of being on stage.
A woman washing her hair | Source: Pexels
“Where do we go now?” I sang, letting my voice soar like it used to at the coffee shop open mics when my future hopes were far grander than what reality allowed.
Sadly, those wishes were extinguished the moment, Tom, Drake’s father and my ex, left us for his new family in Seattle.
But now wasn’t the time to dwell on the past again. The present was much more important. I finished cleaning myself up and exited my shower. As I dried my hair, I felt the pull on my ear and heard a clink on my tiled floor.
A woman drying up | Source: Pexels
My earring! I bent down to get it and saw the crystal’s shining light reflecting from just under the bathtub. Except… something else caught my eye.
There, hidden under the edge, was an old nanny cam I used when Drake was a baby. And it was ON. I immediately went pale. But I examined the angle. It would only be recording my feet. I didn’t get it.
Still, my hands shook as I took it and carefully wrapped myself in a towel to march straight to Drake’s room. The sound of his furious typing stopped when I pounded on the door.
A woman holding a small camera | Source: Pexels
“Just a minute!” he called out, and I heard drawers being opened and shut. What in the world?
“Drake, open this door right now!”
Finally, I heard footsteps and the door swung open.
He stood there in his oversized gaming headphones, and his own face turned white as soon as I held up the nanny cam.
A boy with headphones | Source: Pexels
“Drake, what is this? Why was this hidden in the bathroom?!” I asked, as my anger and bravado turned to extreme worry.
When he remained silent, I gulped and asked, “Have you been… recording me in the bathroom?”
His eyes widened at that. His expression was terrified. “Oh no… Mom, you weren’t supposed to find that. IT’S NOT WHAT YOU THINK. I can explain!”
“Then start explaining.” I pushed past him into his room and looked at his computer. The screen showed some kind of video editing software. Oh, no! What is he doing?
A laptop on a desk | Source: Pexels
But before I could panic more, Drake spoke. “I…” He slumped onto his bed. “You weren’t supposed to find out yet.”
“Find out what? That my son is making videos of…” I couldn’t even say it.
“No! Mom, listen,” he pleaded as tears welled up in his eyes. “Remember when you used to sing at the coffee shop open mics? Before Dad left?”
The question caught me off guard. “What does that have to do with anything?”
A woman looking confused | Source: Pexels
“You were so happy then. Now you only sing in the shower, when you think no one can hear you.” He wiped his nose with his sleeve. “But you’re still amazing, Mom. I wanted to show you that.”
He reached for his laptop and turned it toward me. His fingers pressed play, and suddenly, the screen showed me… well, a music video.
I saw a sunset over the city and streets filled with people chasing their dreams. But the main part was the soundtrack with my voice, clear and strong. It was playing “My Way.”
A sunset over New York | Source: Pexels
“I met an old man, Mr. Arthur. I’ve been going to his studio after school,” Drake continued. “He’s been teaching me video editing. I wanted to surprise you for your birthday, show you that you shouldn’t give up on your dreams just because…”
“Because your father left?” The words stuck in my throat.
“He owns all these old instruments, and he lets me practice drums while he teaches me about making videos.” Drake’s words tumbled out faster now. “I’ve been doing extra chores for neighbors to pay for studio time. Mr. Arthur says I have a good eye for it.”
A drum set | Source: Pexels
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you worry about everything now.” His voice cracked. “Ever since Dad left, it’s like you stopped believing in good surprises. I thought if I could just finish the video, show you how amazing you still are…”
Tears welled and fell before I could stop them. All this time, I’d been so worried about what he was hiding. Never once did I consider he might be worried about me too.
A woman crying | Source: Pexels
“You could have just talked to me,” I said softly, wrapping my arms around him.
“Would you have listened?” He looked up at me, suddenly seeming older than 11. “You always say you’re fine, but I hear you crying sometimes. And you never sing anymore, except in the shower.”
I pulled him close, feeling his thin shoulders shake. “I’m sorry, baby. I guess we’ve both been keeping too many things inside.”
We stayed in silence for a few minutes before I remembered something. “Oh! Is Mr. Arthur’s studio on 1247 Maple Street?”
A music studio | Source: Midjourney
“Yes!” Drake said, but then frowned. “How did you know?”
“In the interest of honesty…” I began and confessed to rummaging through his backpack. Shockingly, we just laughed at each other.
***
The next day, we visited Mr. Arthur’s studio together. He turned out to be a gentle giant with calloused hands and kind eyes, surrounded by dusty guitars and vintage recording equipment.
Music equipment | Source: Pexels
“Your boy’s got talent,” he told me and showed me more of Drake’s videos. “And so do you.”
And now that the secrets were out, Drake and I finally finished the jigsaw puzzle together. I also sang outside the shower for the first time in years.
What’s more, next week, I’m singing at the coffee shop again. My son will be there, recording every moment. This time, I won’t be afraid of a little camera.
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