Jessica wanted to buy a $250 washing machine, but she couldn’t afford it, so she had to ask the seller for a discount. He consented right away, to her surprise, but when she got home and opened the machine, she discovered something even more surprising inside.
When Jessica and her husband Edward welcomed their first child, Kathy, they quickly understood that parenting would not be easy. The young parents were having financial difficulties then, and there was constantly a lack of funds.
Edward owned a textile business in Texas, but it was struggling. Meanwhile, Jessica worked as a nanny on weekends while Edward looked after Kathy. With a baby at home now, expenses went up, while income stayed the same or even went down some months.
Jessica bought the washing machine at a discounted price | Photo: Shutterstock
Ahh, it must be challenging for them too. Perhaps more difficult. Jessica reflected as she drove away from work one weekend, glancing at her neighbor Sandra and her children.
Sandra was already raising a third child even though her husband was just a truck driver. Although he got paid on a piecemeal basis, he wasn’t rowing millions of dollars there. Sandra had been working on a farm for several years to help support her husband financially, and it was the only way they could make ends meet.
Jessica and Edward, like their neighbors, were scraping by on whatever they could. Edward had stopped going to bars with friends to conserve money after Kathy’s arrival, and Jessica had given up on the little things she had managed to buy after saving money from the monthly budget.
Luckily, one month, things were going well financially. Edward’s business grew slowly but steadily, and Jessica managed to save some money. But just when it appeared like they would be having a less stressful month, another problem knocked at her door: the washing machine broke down.
After Kathy’s birth, Andrew and Jessica were having a hard time | Photo: Pexels
After considering her options, Jessica realized that there was no point in getting the machine repaired. The labor and motor replacement cost would be slightly less than the cost of a new machine, and there was no guarantee that the repaired equipment would last as long. After all, this was the fourth time the machine demanded a repair in the same year.
Knowing there was no other option but to look for a new machine, Jessica sat down on the computer, looking for an affordable one. An hour of searching led her to one suitable find, but it cost $250, and Jessica could only afford to pay $150.
In the end, she decided to see the merchant in person and request a discount right then and there. James Carter, 1216 East Madison Street, Brownsville, TX, said the advertisement. Jessica made a note of the owner’s address.
Upon arrival, a man about Jessica’s age opened the door. There was a calmness in his eyes, but the dark circles beneath them revealed inner stress and exhaustion. “How may I assist you?” he asked, his voice deep but mournful.
“Hi, are you James Carter? I’m Jessica Turner. I messaged you regarding the washing machine. Can I have a look at it?”
“Oh, Jessica. Yes, sure. Come in,” James said, and Jessica followed him in.
Jessica visited the seller’s house | Photo: Unsplash
The entire house was in shambles, and Jessica deduced from the disorganized layout that the man was planning to relocate, which was why he’d put the machine up for sale. As she entered the room next to the hall, she saw the white washing machine. It appeared to look brand new, precisely as she’d seen it online.
“Well, I hope you remember I said I wanted to talk about the price,” Jessica said, having viewed the machine from the exterior. “I can’t afford to pay $250! I agree the machine still looks brand new and everything, but I can’t extend my budget beyond $150. We just had a baby, and you know things are not so well financially, so I was wondering if you could please give me a discount?”
James stood there silent for a while, pondering, and then nodded his head in agreement. “Sure. I don’t mind. $150 sounds like a good deal to me,” he said absentmindedly and then turned around to lift the machine.
Jessica’s eyes widened in surprise. “Really? Thank you! Thank you so much!”
James gave Jessica a slight smile and the woman could sense that his thoughts had wandered beyond the room in that short while, but she didn’t bother much about it as she was rejoicing in luck.
James agreed to sell the washing machine at $150 | Photo: Pexels
After 5 minutes, the two of them carried the huge machine to Jessica’s car without gloves, belts, or loading belts, huffing and sweating. She’d already paid James and was looking forward to getting the machine home.
As she prepared to leave, she gave her hand to say goodbye and asked him to meet her somewhere in the future, but James’ answer was a flat no. “I’m leaving this place for good, and I won’t be returning, so I don’t think we’ll be meeting again. Anyway, I hope the machine is useful to you,” he said with a quick but honest smile. Jessica simply smiled at the odd response and thanked him once more before leaving.
When she got home, the first thing she did was double-check the equipment’s functionality. However, as she opened the dryer to check the lint filter, she was shocked to find $150 in there.
It also contained a folded piece of paper in one corner with a message. “It’s a gift for your newborn baby,” it read. “I didn’t think it was fair to ask for money from someone who was already struggling financially.
“As a result, I chose to return it. Someone very close to my heart once told me that if I have the resources, I should help those who are less fortunate.” Jessica was shocked. When did he place this inside the machine?
Jessica found a note inside the washing machine | Photo: Pexels
Suddenly, it hit her. She’d asked him to help her move the machine to the yard while she fetched ropes from the car trunk to pack the machine properly, and it’s possible that’s when he put it there.
Jessica wanted to express her gratitude to him for his assistance. However, because he didn’t provide a phone number on the website and returning to the house would be a two-hour journey from her home, she decided to see him the next day.
Unfortunately, it was too late by then, as the man had already left the house, and a for sale sign was posted in the yard. Jessica left the house dejected, thanking him once more in her heart.
One year later…
Jessica and Edward were finally moving into a larger home. Kathy had been accepted to a good school, and Edward’s business was doing well.
Jessica was standing on the balcony of her former house, surveying the area where she’d spent most of her days. The place held a lot of memories for her. She switched her sights to Sandra’s residence and overheard Sandra and her husband bickering over purchasing a new washing machine.
One year later, Jessica gave the machine to Sandra | Photo: Shutterstock
Jessica took a look at the wet linen-laden rope on Sandra’s terrace. Oh, that poor woman must have done all the laundry herself. I should do something to help her.
So before leaving, she rang the doorbell at Sandra’s and left the washing machine on her doorstep with a note that read, “With love from your neighbor, Jessica.”
Jessica saw how happy Sandra was when she opened the door and spotted the machine on her porch.
So this was how James felt when he helped me. Ahh, honestly, it does feel amazing. However, I’m still curious about who encouraged him and asked him to assist people in need. Jessica pondered as their car sped away to their new destination.
What can we learn from this story?
- Never hesitate to assist someone in need if you have the means to do so. The way Jessica helped Sandra and James helped Jessica are beautiful examples of this.
- Learn to emulate the goodness of your surroundings. Jessica was inspired by James’ example and stepped in to assist Sandra.
If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a widower who discovered his wife’s hiding place after her death and learned a shocking truth.
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.
Old Woman Finds Note at Son’s Grave That Will Leave You in Tears
For Nancy, her son Henry was everything; she could not imagine life without him. It had been 23 years since the terrible accident that took Henry’s life. Every year on that day, she brought his favorite pie to his grave to remember him. But this year, something was about to change.
For 23 years, Nancy, now 61, had never missed a single year on this date. She baked her late son’s favorite pie and took it to his grave each year since he passed away.
The pie, a simple but delicious apple and cinnamon treat, had been Henry’s favorite since he was a child.
The smell of apples and cinnamon reminded her of when Henry was young, running into the kitchen with his eyes shining at the sight of the pie.
On this day, just like every year before, Nancy carefully carried the freshly baked pie to the graveyard.
The dish felt heavier as she walked toward Henry’s resting place. The grave was neat and covered in flowers, showing how much he was still loved.
The stone had become smoother over the years because she often ran her fingers over it, lost in her memories.
Nancy knelt and placed the pie gently on the gravestone. Her heart ached as she began to speak, her voice quiet, as if Henry might somehow hear her.
“Henry, I hope you’re at peace, my love. I miss you every day. I baked your favorite pie again. Remember how we used to bake it together? You always snuck a taste before it was done.”
She smiled, but her eyes were misty with tears. “I wish we could do that one more time.”
The familiar sorrow welled up inside her, but Nancy had learned over the years to push through the tears.
She quickly wiped her eyes and managed a small smile. After a few more moments of silence, she kissed her fingers and touched the top of the gravestone as she said her quiet goodbye.
Then, with a heavy but comforted heart, she turned and walked away, knowing she would be back next year, just like always.
The next day, as part of her routine, Nancy returned to Henry’s grave to clean up the remains of the pie.
Usually, by the time she returned, the pie was either untouched or spoiled by the weather, a quiet reminder of her son’s absence.
She found it bittersweet, knowing the pie stayed where she left it, as if waiting for him.
But today, as she approached the grave, something felt different. Nancy’s heart skipped a beat when she saw the plate was clean—completely empty. For a moment, she stood frozen in disbelief.
Then, she noticed something else. Resting on the plate was a small piece of paper, folded in half.
Nancy’s hands trembled as she picked up the note. Her breath caught in her throat as she unfolded it.
The handwriting was shaky, as though the writer had struggled to form the letters. The simple words read: “Thank you.”
Her heart pounded with confusion and anger.
“Who took Henry’s pie?” she muttered under her breath, clutching the note tightly. “This was for my son. No one had the right to touch it!”
Her private ritual, her way of honoring and remembering her son, had been disturbed by a stranger.
She felt violated, as if someone had stolen a piece of her grief.
With her emotions swirling—part outrage, part confusion—Nancy left the cemetery, determined to find the person who had taken her son’s pie. She needed to know who had done this and why.
Determined to catch the culprit, Nancy decided to take action. She couldn’t let someone continue to disrupt how she honored Henry. So, she made a plan.
That night, she baked another of Henry’s favorite pies, the same apple and cinnamon recipe she had been making for over twenty years.
The next morning, with renewed resolve, she placed the freshly baked pie on Henry’s grave, just like before, but this time she wasn’t leaving.
She found a large oak tree nearby and hid behind it, close enough to see the grave but far enough to not be noticed.
The warm aroma of the pie drifted through the air, filling the quiet cemetery.
Time passed slowly as Nancy watched and waited, her heart racing in anticipation.
An hour later, she spotted movement. A small figure cautiously approached the grave. Nancy squinted, leaning forward to get a better look.
It wasn’t the greedy thief she had imagined. No, this was something entirely different.
A young boy, no older than 9, with ragged clothes and dirt smudged on his face, moved toward the pie with careful steps.
Nancy’s heart tightened as she watched him. The boy didn’t immediately take the pie.
Instead, he knelt by the grave and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small scrap of paper and a dull pencil. His hand trembled as he carefully scribbled something on the paper, his brow furrowed with concentration.
It was clear the boy struggled with writing, but he took his time, making sure each word was clear.
Nancy’s heart softened as she saw him write “Thank you” on the paper, just like before. He wasn’t a thief; he was just a hungry child, grateful for the kindness of a pie left behind.
The anger that had once consumed Nancy melted away in an instant. She realized this boy wasn’t stealing; he was surviving. He was in need, and her son’s favorite pie had brought him comfort.
As the boy began to pick up the pie, his small hands shaking, Nancy stepped out from her hiding spot.
The rustle of leaves under her feet made him freeze, wide-eyed. Startled, he dropped the pie, and it tumbled onto the grass. His face paled, and he backed away, looking terrified.
“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry!” the boy cried, his voice trembling with panic. “I was just so hungry, and the pie was so good. Please don’t be mad.”
Nancy’s heart softened instantly. The sight of him—thin, dirty, and scared—erased any anger she had felt before.
She knelt beside him, speaking gently, her voice as comforting as she could make it. “It’s alright, sweetheart. I’m not mad at you. Where are your parents?” she asked. The boy stayed silent and shook his head. “What’s your name?” Nancy asked, understanding that the boy had nowhere to go.
“Jimmy,” he muttered, still avoiding her eyes, ashamed of what he had done.
“Well, Jimmy,” Nancy smiled softly, trying to reassure him, “it’s okay. You don’t have to steal pies. If you’re hungry, all you had to do was ask.”
Jimmy looked up at her, his lips quivering as he tried to speak. “I didn’t mean to steal,” he said, his voice small and shaky. “I just… I don’t get to eat much, and that pie was the best thing I’ve ever had.”
Nancy’s heart ached for him, and her mind filled with thoughts of how different this boy’s life must be.
The hunger in his eyes reminded her of her own son, Henry, when he eagerly waited for that first bite of her freshly baked pie.
But Henry never had to worry about where his next meal would come from. Jimmy, on the other hand, looked like he had been living with hunger for a long time.
“Come with me,” Nancy said after a moment of thought. She stood up and reached out her hand to him. “I’ll bake you a fresh pie, just for you.”
Jimmy’s eyes widened in disbelief, as if he couldn’t trust his own ears. “Really?” he asked, his voice filled with a mix of hope and doubt.
Nancy nodded, her heart filled with a strange but comforting warmth. “Yes, really. You don’t have to be afraid.”
Slowly, Jimmy reached out and took Nancy’s hand.
She led him back to her home, the boy walking beside her in silence, his eyes darting around as if he wasn’t sure if this was all real. Nancy’s heart swelled with the thought of what she was about to do.
Baking had always been her way of showing love, and now, after years of baking for a son she could no longer see, she was about to bake for someone who truly needed it.
When they reached her cozy kitchen, Nancy set to work, rolling out the dough, slicing the apples, and adding just the right amount of cinnamon—just as she had done many times before.
Jimmy watched her quietly from the corner of the kitchen, his eyes wide as he followed every move she made.
The smell of the pie began to fill the room, warm and comforting, like a hug from a long-lost friend.
Once the pie was baked, Nancy placed it in front of Jimmy. “Here you go, sweetheart,” she said softly.
“This one’s all for you.”
Jimmy hesitated for a moment, as if he couldn’t believe what was happening. But then he grabbed a slice and took a bite. His face lit up with joy, and his eyes sparkled as he chewed.
“This is the best pie I’ve ever had,” he said, his mouth still full. He ate with such happiness that it brought tears to Nancy’s eyes.
She watched him in silence, thinking about how something as simple as a pie could bring so much comfort to someone.
As Jimmy devoured the warm slices with obvious delight, Nancy couldn’t help but think of Henry.
She had always dreamed of seeing her son eat his favorite pie again, watching him enjoy it the way he used to when he was a child.
But now, in some strange and unexpected way, she was sharing it with another boy who needed it just as much.
Watching Jimmy eat, Nancy felt a deep sense of peace wash over her. Perhaps this was how it was meant to be.
Maybe fate had brought Jimmy into her life for a reason. By feeding him, by offering kindness when he needed it most, she was honoring Henry’s memory in a way she had never imagined.
For the first time in years, Nancy felt that her grief had led her to something beautiful—a connection, a purpose that gave new meaning to her life.
Maybe, just maybe, this was Henry’s way of sending her a message—that love and kindness should always find their way back to those in need.
Nancy smiled as she watched Jimmy finish the last slice of pie, her heart full of warmth and gratitude.
She had found an unexpected connection in the most unlikely place, and it filled her soul in a way that nothing else had in years.
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