
It was her mother’s birthday, and Alice cherished these family gatherings. But this time her grandfather Ted hadn’t been invited. When Alice simply asked, “Why?” hermother snapped, a reaction that was unlike her. Alice sensed her grandfather neededhelp, and she was determined to offer it.
Alice sat at the dinner table, the warm glow of candles flickering around the room and casting shadows on the walls. Her parents, Lisa and Terry, were smiling and chatting, celebrating her mother’s birthday.
The table was covered in delicious dishes—roast chicken, mashed potatoes, and freshly baked bread.
The smell of the meal filled the air, comforting and familiar, yet Alice couldn’t focus on the joy around her. She sat quietly, picking at her food, her thoughts far away.

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As her parents laughed and shared stories, Alice’s mind kept drifting to someone who wasn’t there—her grandfather, Ted.
He had always been a part of family gatherings, and Alice missed him dearly. He would tell her amazing stories about his youth, or spin her around in the air until she felt like she could fly.
Grandpa Ted had a way of making her feel special, like she was the most important person in the world. But it had been over a year since Alice had last seen him, and she didn’t really know why.

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Her thoughts wandered back to the last time she had seen her mother and Grandpa Ted together. It was a memory she couldn’t forget—her mother shouting at him, her voice louder and angrier than Alice had ever heard.
Alice had been upstairs in her room, but the argument had echoed through the house.
Grandpa Ted had smelled strange that night, and he’d been acting a little off, stumbling over his words.

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Alice didn’t understand why, but her mother had seemed furious, yelling something about “broken promises” and “never again.” After that night, Grandpa Ted had disappeared from their lives.
Alice had kept quiet for a long time, hoping that her mother and Grandpa Ted would make up, and everything would go back to normal.
But now, sitting at the dinner table while everyone else celebrated, she couldn’t hold back her questions any longer.

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“Why isn’t Grandpa Ted here?” she asked, her voice soft but clear, cutting through the laughter.
The room went silent. Her parents stopped talking, and the warmth in the air seemed to cool in an instant. Lisa’s face changed, her smile fading as she glanced at Terry, who shifted in his chair, looking uncomfortable.
Lisa cleared her throat, taking a deep breath before answering. “Grandpa Ted isn’t coming, Alice. I don’t think he will for a long time.”
Alice’s heart sank. “Why not?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly. “What did he do?”

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Lisa’s eyes hardened, and her voice became cold and firm. “Grandpa Ted made some bad decisions, and we don’t need to see him anymore. It’s better this way.”
Alice’s eyes widened in confusion. “But I miss him. Can’t we visit him? He’s still family.”
Before Lisa could respond, Terry gently placed his hand on hers. “Honey, but what about his kidney treatment? He cant afford it…”
“No,” Lisa interrupted, her tone sharp. “I don’t want to talk about him, not today.”

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The tension in the room was thick, and Alice felt tears welling up in her eyes. She looked down at her plate, trying to hold back her emotions.
She loved her grandfather and couldn’t understand why her mother was so angry. What could he have done that was so terrible?
After a few moments of silence, Alice whispered, “May I be excused?”
Without waiting for an answer, she quietly stood up and left the table, her heart heavy. She made her way to her room, the tears finally spilling over as she closed the door behind her.

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Sitting at her desk, Alice wiped the tears from her eyes as the conversation from dinner replayed in her mind.
She couldn’t stop thinking about what her mother had said about Grandpa Ted. He had always been so kind to her, telling her stories and making her laugh.
Why was her mother so angry with him? Alice couldn’t understand it. She knew he had made mistakes, but wasn’t he still family? And now he was sick.

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She had overheard her father talking quietly to her mother about how Ted needed money for medication. Could that be why her mother was upset? Maybe she felt that Grandpa Ted didn’t deserve their help after what had happened.
But Alice didn’t feel that way. No matter what Grandpa Ted had done, she still loved him.
She couldn’t bear the thought of him being sick and alone, needing help, and not getting it. Her heart ached for him. She knew she had to do something—anything—to help him.
Her eyes drifted over to the small piggy bank sitting on her shelf. She had been saving money in it for months, dreaming of buying herself a new bicycle.

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She had almost enough to get the one she’d wanted for so long, but now, thinking of her grandfather, the bike didn’t seem as important anymore.
Slowly, Alice stood up and walked over to the piggy bank, holding it in her hands. It wasn’t much, but it was all she had.
For a moment, she hesitated. She really wanted that bike. But the image of her grandfather, sick and in need, wouldn’t leave her mind. He needed her more than she needed a bicycle.

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With a deep breath, Alice wrapped the piggy bank in a towel, then gently tapped it against the edge of her desk until it broke. The sound of the shattering ceramic seemed louder than she expected, but it didn’t matter.
She gathered up the coins and bills, carefully counting them before placing the money into her backpack. It wasn’t a lot, but it was everything she had. Hopefully, it would help Grandpa Ted.
Grabbing her jacket, Alice slipped it on and quietly opened her bedroom window. She knew if she asked her parents to go, they wouldn’t let her.

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It was late, and they were still upset. But she had made up her mind. She was going to help her grandfather, no matter what.
She climbed out of the window just like she used to do when she played outside and tiptoed across the yard to the bus stop.
The night air was chilly, and Alice shivered as she waited for the last bus of the night.
When it finally arrived, she paid for her ticket with some of the coins she had saved and sat down, watching the dark streets pass by. Soon, she would be at Grandpa Ted’s house. She just hoped she could make a difference.

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After what felt like forever, Alice finally arrived at Grandpa Ted’s house. The familiar sight of the old wooden door, with its peeling paint and the creaky porch she used to play on, made her heart race.
Memories flooded her mind—of summers spent there, of laughter and stories shared. But tonight, the house seemed quieter, sadder, as if it shared the weight of the unspoken feelings in her heart.
She hesitated for a moment, gripping the straps of her backpack tightly, then knocked gently on the door.

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Within seconds, the door creaked open, and Grandpa Ted appeared. His face, worn with age but still kind, lit up in surprise when he saw her.
“Alice! What are you doing here, sweetheart?” he exclaimed, stepping forward and wrapping her in a warm embrace.
Alice held on tight, not wanting to let go.
“I came to help you, Grandpa,” she whispered, pulling away slightly and fumbling with the zipper of her backpack. She pulled out the small stack of coins and bills she had brought, her life savings, and held them out to him. “Dad said you’re sick, and you need money for medicine. This is all I have.”

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Grandpa Ted looked down at the money in her hands, his eyes filling with tears. For a moment, he was speechless. Finally, he spoke, his voice soft and thick with emotion.
“Oh, Alice,” he said, gently taking her hands in his. “This is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me. But… I don’t think this money will be enough to cure what’s wrong. But what you’ve given me tonight is worth far more than any medicine—your love and care.”
Alice frowned, her eyes searching his face. “But I want to help. I want you to get better, Grandpa. You can’t be sick.”

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Grandpa Ted smiled, though there was sadness in his eyes. “I’m afraid there’s nothing you can do, my dear. Some things, even love and money, can’t fix. But knowing that you care enough to come all this way for me? That means more than you can imagine.”
They sat together on the porch, the night air cool around them, but Alice felt warm being close to her grandfather. Ted quickly sent a message to the girl’s parents so they would know where she was.
After a few moments of quiet, Alice finally asked the question that had been bothering her for so long. “Grandpa, why is Mom so mad at you?”

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Ted sighed deeply, as if the weight of his regret was pulling down on his shoulders.
“Your mom trusted me, Alice. She gave me money to help me get better, to stop drinking. But I did something terrible. I used that money to buy more alcohol, and it hurt her deeply. She had faith in me, and I let her down.”
Alice’s voice trembled as she asked, “Why did you do it?”
Ted looked down, ashamed. “Because I was weak, and I made a mistake,” he admitted.

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“I’ve regretted it every day since. I never wanted to hurt your mother. I just hope, one day, she can forgive me for what I did.”
They sat together in silence, the sound of the night settling in around them. Alice didn’t know how to fix everything, but at that moment, she knew her love was what mattered most.
Just as they were finishing their conversation, a car pulled up in front of the house. Alice’s parents had come looking for her, and Lisa was furious.

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“Alice, what were you thinking?” Lisa scolded. “You could have been hurt!”
Alice stood her ground, looking up at her mother. “I gave Grandpa all my money, Mom. He’s sorry for what he did. Can’t we help him?”
Lisa’s anger faltered as she looked at her daughter, and her heart softened. The sight of her little girl, more willing to forgive than she had been, melted away some of the bitterness she had carried for so long.
Lisa sighed and turned to her father. “Dad, if you stay sober, I’ll help you with the medication.”

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Ted nodded, tears filling his eyes. “Thank you, Lisa.”
Alice smiled through her tears, knowing that she had helped bring her family back together. It wasn’t just about money—it was about love, forgiveness, and the hope of a fresh start.
Businessman Loses All Hope After His Diagnosis, but One Hospital Encounter Changes Everything — Story of the Day

When a workaholic businessman receives devastating news about his health, he meets a young boy in the hospital who changes his outlook on life. Their bond grows through unexpected friendship and small acts of kindness, teaching him what truly matters—until a heartbreaking twist reshapes everything.
Andrew, 50, sat at his desk, shuffling through papers while juggling scheduling meetings with his partners.

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He didn’t hear Michael, his assistant, enter the room. Michael stood there, waiting. After a few moments, he cleared his throat.
No response. Andrew kept working, his focus sharp. Michael tried again. “Mr. Smith.” Still no answer. He repeated his name three more times.
Finally, Andrew slammed his hands on the desk and snapped, “What?”
Michael didn’t flinch. “You asked me to tell you if your ex-wife called.”

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Andrew groaned and rubbed his temples. “How many times do I have to tell you? Ignore her calls. What now?”
Michael held a notepad. “She left a message. I should warn you—it’s a direct quote. Her words, not mine.” He read from the note. “‘You pompous jerk, I will never forgive you for wasting so many years of my life. If you don’t give me back my painting, I’ll smash your car.’ That’s the message.”

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Andrew’s face turned red. “We’ve been divorced for two years! Does she not have anything better to do?”
Michael looked at him, waiting for further instructions. “Should I respond to her?”
“No! And stop taking her calls,” Andrew said. Then he paused. “Actually, tell her I threw that painting in the trash!”

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Andrew grabbed a pen and hurled it toward the wall. Michael ducked slightly, gave a polite nod, and left the room.
Moments later, Andrew’s phone rang. He frowned, picking it up.
“Andrew Smith?” a voice asked.
“Yes. Who’s calling?”

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“This is the hospital. Your test results are ready. The doctor wants to see you.”
“Can’t you just tell me now?” Andrew said, irritated. “I’m busy.”
“Sorry, sir. The doctor will explain in person.”
Andrew sighed heavily. “Fine. I’ll come in.” He hung up, shaking his head.

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Andrew rarely allowed himself the luxury of a lunch break, but this time was different. The doctor’s office was quiet, the ticking clock on the wall the only sound.
Andrew sat stiffly in a chair, his fingers tapping against the armrest. When the door opened, the doctor stepped in, his face serious. Andrew frowned, sensing bad news.

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The doctor sat across from him and spoke in a steady, measured tone, using terms Andrew didn’t understand.
Then came the word—cancer. “We need to act fast,” the doctor said.
“Is this some kind of joke?” Andrew asked, his voice sharp. “I own a company. I can’t just check into a hospital.”

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The doctor met his eyes. “Your health should come first. The company can wait.”
Andrew leaned forward. “What are my chances of getting better?”
“I can’t promise anything,” the doctor said. “Starting treatment right away is critical.”
Andrew’s voice rose. “Can I still work while I’m here?”

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“Treatment affects everyone differently,” the doctor explained. “You will stay in the hospital so we can monitor you. Someone can bring you a computer.”
Andrew frowned and stood up. “Fine. I’ll sort it out.”
The doctor watched him leave. “We’ll see you tomorrow with your things,” he said before Andrew reached the door.

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As Andrew walked through the hospital’s pediatric wing, he noticed a boy, about eight years old, tossing a ball back and forth with a nurse.
The sound of their laughter echoed in the corridor. The ball suddenly rolled across the floor and stopped near Andrew’s feet.
“Excuse me, sir!” the boy called out, smiling. “Can you please throw the ball back?”

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Andrew picked up the ball, his face tense. Without a word, he hurled it down the hall, far from the boy and nurse, then turned and walked away.
“That was mean, sir!” the boy shouted.
Andrew had been in the hospital for days that felt like weeks. He tried to keep working, setting up his laptop and pushing through meetings.
But the treatment was draining. Each session left him weaker. The nausea was constant, and sleep was nearly impossible.

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One afternoon, during another long chemotherapy session, Andrew leaned back, his eyes half-closed. He felt miserable.
Suddenly, a small voice broke through his fog. He opened his eyes to see a boy standing in front of him. Startled, Andrew flinched. The boy giggled. It was the same boy from the corridor.
“What do you want, kid?” Andrew mumbled, not even lifting his head.

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“I’ve been walking around the hospital looking for someone to play with. It’s boring here.”
Andrew glanced at him, annoyed. “What’s your name?” he asked.
“Tommy,” the boy replied with a wide grin.
Andrew sighed. “Listen, Tommy. I’m not in the mood to play. Go bother someone else before I start feeling worse.”

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Tommy didn’t move. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small peppermint candy. He held it out to Andrew. “This helps with nausea. You should try it.”
Andrew hesitated, then snatched the candy and set it on the table.
“You’re really grumpy!” Tommy said, laughing. “I’m going to call you Mr. Grouch. Are you mad because you’re scared of needles?” He pointed at the IV attached to Andrew’s arm.

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Andrew frowned. “I’m not scared of anything.”
Tommy nodded. “That’s fine. I was scared at first too, but then I stopped. My mom says I’m a superhero. Do you have a superpower?”
“No,” Andrew said, his voice flat.
“That’s because you’re too sad,” Tommy replied, his tone serious now.

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Andrew looked at the boy, surprised by the honesty in his big, bright eyes. “Is there anything you want?” Andrew asked.
Tommy grinned. “Yeah. I want to buy flowers for my mom. She works really hard, but I don’t have any money.”
Andrew sighed again, reached for his wallet, and pulled out a few bills. “Here. Get your flowers. Maybe buy yourself something too. But leave me alone.”

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Tommy’s face lit up. “Thanks, Mr. Grouch!” He ran out, clutching the money, while Andrew stared at the peppermint candy on the table.
With a sigh, he picked it up, unwrapped it, and popped it into his mouth. To his surprise, the sharp sweetness helped ease the nausea. It wasn’t much, but it made a difference for a while.
That evening, as Andrew stared at his laptop, a nurse knocked on his door.

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She carried a small paper bag. “This is for you,” she said, placing it on the table. “Tommy sent it.”
Andrew opened the bag and found it full of peppermint candies. He shook his head, unsure whether to feel amused or moved.
The next morning, he decided to find Tommy. He needed to make one thing clear: the money wasn’t a gift.

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As he approached Tommy’s room, he saw a woman leaning against the wall, her shoulders shaking. She was crying.
“Are you okay?” Andrew asked, his voice low.
The woman wiped her eyes quickly and looked up. “Yes… Did you need something?”
“Tommy gave me some candies yesterday,” Andrew said.

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The woman’s lips curved into a small smile. “Oh, so you’re Mr. Grouch,” she said.
Andrew raised an eyebrow. “My name’s Andrew,” he replied.
“I’m Sara,” she said. “Are you here for treatment too?”
Andrew nodded.
“Then you understand,” Sara said quietly. “The bills, the stress. I can’t even pay rent right now. They told me we’ll be evicted in two months.”

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Andrew nodded again, unsure of what to say. Before he could respond, the door burst open. Tommy ran out, his face lighting up when he saw Andrew. “Hey, Mr. Grouch!” he called, grinning ear to ear.
From that day forward, Tommy became a constant presence in Andrew’s life.
The boy would wander into Andrew’s room with a big grin and endless energy. At first, Andrew found it annoying, but Tommy’s persistence wore him down.

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Soon, Andrew began looking forward to the visits. Tommy taught him to notice the simple joys in life.
They sat by the window, watching the sunset, guessing the colors in the sky. They played harmless pranks on nurses, earning scolding looks and stifled smiles.
Sometimes, they “borrowed” wheelchairs and raced down the halls, laughing until their sides hurt.

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Andrew didn’t ask about Tommy’s illness. He wasn’t sure how to bring it up. One afternoon, Tommy mentioned Sara had been crying again. “She’s worried about money,” Tommy said. “We might lose our house.”
Andrew quietly gave Tommy an envelope of cash. “Tell her it’s from a magician,” he said.
When Sara tried to return the money, Andrew waved her off. “I’m not a magician,” he said. “I don’t know where it came from.”

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Weeks passed. Andrew’s treatments worked, and the day came when the doctor gave him the news—he was cancer-free.
Ecstatic, Andrew rushed to share it with Tommy. But when he arrived, Tommy was unconscious, Sara sitting beside him, tears streaming down her face.
“What happened?” Andrew asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

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Sara wiped her eyes and shook her head. “The doctors said there’s nothing more they can do.”
Andrew stared at her, struggling to process the words. “But… he seemed so happy. He always smiled. I thought he was improving.”
Sara looked at him, her face full of pain. “He didn’t want you to see how sick he was. He wanted to be strong for you. He thought he was a superhero.”

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Andrew’s chest tightened. “I’m so sorry.”
Sara managed a faint smile through her tears. “Don’t be. He said you saved him. These months, you gave him laughter and hope. You made him forget about being sick.”
Andrew shook his head slowly. “No. He’s the one who saved me.”

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He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her in a gentle hug. She cried quietly against his shoulder, and though Andrew wished he could take her pain away, he knew nothing would ever truly ease it.
That night, Tommy passed away peacefully, surrounded by the love of his mother and the memories he had made.
Andrew sat alone in his room afterward, overwhelmed by the loss. Andrew couldn’t bear the thought of such a bright soul being forgotten.

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Determined, he started a foundation in Tommy’s name to help sick children, ensuring his kindness would live on.
He also stayed in touch with Sara, offering her support in every way he could.
One afternoon, Andrew stood at his ex-wife’s door, holding the painting she had demanded for so long. She opened the door, her mouth ready to hurl accusations, but Andrew silently handed her the painting.

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“I’m not here to argue,” Andrew said, his tone calm as he held out the painting.
His ex-wife frowned, puzzled. “What is this supposed to mean?” she asked.
“Nothing important,” Andrew replied, a small smile forming. “I’m just making sure I keep my superpowers.” Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away.

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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: Taking care of Mom was hard enough without the tension with my sister. Accusations flew when precious things started disappearing. I thought I knew who was to blame, but the truth shattered my world. Betrayal came from where I least expected, leaving me questioning everything—and everyone—I trusted.
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.
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