Rose, who once lived a life of joy and luxury in her family mansion, was now living on the street, thanks to the greed of her three sons. But soon, she would get a phone call that would end her misery…
To everyone who passed by the Roy Mansion, the exquisite six-bedroom house was nothing short of a dream.
On the outside, people posed in front of its majestic weathered gates and took pictures to share on social media. But on the inside was a heartbreaking story of love, loss, and greed.
Love, because it was the mansion that a rich young man had built for the love of his life almost four decades ago and raised a family of three boys and a girl with her…
Loss, because it was within those walls that the fairytale love story came to an abrupt end when the man succumbed to an illness, breathing his last in the arms of the woman he loved…
And greed, because the three sons that were once the center of their parents’ universe had manipulated and kicked their old widowed mother out because she refused to sell the house.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Getty Images
Rose was that 63-year-old widow who had lost everything – the only man she ever loved, the only home she ever knew, and the love of her three stubborn sons, Don, David, and Daniel.
While the three young men patted their own backs for finally selling that old relic of a house and buying three spectacular modern houses for themselves with their share of the money, they had conveniently cut out their elderly mother from the picture.
Their sister Debbie got a share, too. But she was away in some disease-ridden corner of the earth, trying to come up with a cure for some new illness nobody had heard of.
“Who cares? Debbie could donate her share to some worthless charity for all I care!” Don said on a conference call with his brothers.
“Yeah! And Mom will be all right, too. It’s not like she’s going to beg on the streets. The woman is smarter than that!” David chuckled.
“It had to be done, brothers! Mom was going to make us wait for an eternity to get our share…” Daniel, the eldest, had the last word.
Meanwhile, Rose was now in a sketchy part of the city, just another sad, desperate face in the line of homeless people outside an infamous park.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Getty Images
She had left her home with almost nothing, except for Raymond’s oldest car. She often slept in the backseat, squeezing her tall frame to fit in the narrow space.
“Oh, Raymond!” Rose sighed, looking up through the car window to the heavens. “This is what it all has come to! I’m glad you’re not here to see this; it would break your sweet heart. Wait for me, Ray. I’ll be joining you soon, wherever you are, honey…until then, I’ll rest…”
Amidst all the unbearable grief and pain, there was a small part of her that felt relief in giving up.
After all, Rose had never really had a moment of respite ever since Raymond had died, leaving her to fend for four children, all under the age of ten.
It had been a long, arduous journey bringing up the kids. But it had also been a fulfilling one. After Raymond’s death, Rose worked two jobs for several years, saving every penny she could for their education and future.
And it paid off as all four of them turned out to be successful in their own fields.
“They scammed you, and now they’ll know what that feels like!” Debbie said and brought out a small gift case for her mother.
But their professional accomplishments no longer impressed Rose because she had now seen the harsh truth: her sons had failed at being good human beings.
They had betrayed the woman who single-handedly raised them and left her with a laughable amount of change, not enough to even buy an old trailer.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Getty Images
Days turned into weeks until it had almost been a month into Rose’s life on the street. She didn’t complain once – because even on the street, her kindness and sense of humor had managed to make her some incredible friends.
Still, there were only two people she kept thinking of: her husband Raymond and her daughter Debbie.
Debbie had left home at the tender age of 18, hoping to earn money for the family. Life surrounded her with helpful people who noticed her potential, and several years later, she became a highly respected medical researcher.
“I’m so proud of our girl, Raymond! I worry for her. Watch over her for me, will you? Find a way to tell her I’m all right, and I love her,” Rose spoke to her husband in her heart, before bursting into tears.
Little did the elderly woman know that just one week later, she would be standing face to face with her daughter, hugging her like they had never parted.
At first, she didn’t recognize the elegant woman in the classy suit getting out of the chic black car that had pulled up in the abandoned parking lot.
But when the woman’s eyes landed on Rose, the childlike joy on that beautiful young face was unmistakable.
“Debbie! Darling! Am I dreaming?” Rose was dizzy with emotion as her daughter hugged her tight.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Getty Images
“Mom, I’m here now. It’s all going to be okay,” Debbie sobbed for her mother, who was a frail shadow of what she used to be.
It turned out that a kind old neighbor had recently called Debbie in the middle of the night and told her about what her brothers had done to their mom.
“He also said he had seen you eating leftovers in the backseat of dad’s old red car.”
“My heart sank, and I jumped onto the next plane to find you and meet you,” Debbie cried, holding her mother.
That afternoon, Debbie and Rose sat in a hotel room and spoke for hours. After reminiscing about the good old days, Debbie cleared her throat. It was time to reveal the big news to mother.
“Mom, what Don, David, and Daniel have done to you is unforgivable. And as their eldest sister, I decided to put them in their place!” Debbie sounded determined and confident.
Debbie insisted on taking Rose to “a special place.” An hour-long drive later, mother and daughter were standing in front of the old mansion, admiring its beauty.
“Too bad it’s sold, sweetheart,” Rose said, wiping her tears.
“I know. Because I bought it!” Debbie said calmly.
Rose couldn’t believe her ears.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Getty Images
She listened as her kind daughter explained how she spent all her savings on buying back the house without revealing to her brothers who she was.
“They scammed you, and now they’ll know what that feels like!” Debbie said and brought out a small gift case for her mother.
When Rose opened the box, she didn’t expect to see the keys to the old house. “It even has the same old keychain on it, look!”
A week of paperwork later, Rose finally got a call from her daughter’s lawyer. “You are now the sole owner of this mansion, and nobody can force you out of it anymore. This beautiful $1 million mansion is forever yours, Ms. Rose.”
Rose stood still, holding the phone to her ear long after the call was over. She felt a sense of overwhelm and relief and finally burst into tears.
As for Debbie, there was one last thing she wanted to do.
She spoke to her lawyer and came up with an elaborate scheme that conned all three brothers into selling their new houses, leaving them in a financial lurch and giving them a taste of their own medicine.
Meanwhile, Debbie and her mother were out enjoying little pleasures of life like drifting dandelions and bubblegum ice cream.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Getty Images
Rose had taught Debbie to be a kind human being, and now, it was her turn to teach her mother to live for herself.
The doting daughter arranged lunch dates, spa days, and birthday photoshoots for her beautiful mother; right until the day she peacefully died in her arms.
What can we learn from this story?
- Greed makes us blind to the blessings in our life. Don, David, and Daniel were only focused on getting their share of the family estate. In the process, they lost the loving presence of their mother, the woman who had toiled hard to raise them.
- The joy that comes at the cost of our parents’ well-being is meaningless. The sons tried to cut Rose out of their lives of luxury but ended up unhappy. On the other hand, Debbie found great happiness in living with her elderly mother for the rest of her years.
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 another older woman who makes a wish to see the son she had abandoned years ago and finds a charming young man smiling knowingly at her.
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.
My Husband Refused to Replace Our Broken Vacuum and Said I Should Sweep Since I’m ‘Just on Maternity Leave’ — So I Taught Him a Lesson He’ll Never Forget
When our vacuum broke, my husband said I should just sweep because I’m “home all day anyway.” So I grabbed our newborn and a broken broom and showed up at his office to remind him exactly what that really looks like.
I’m 30. I just had my first baby, a sweet little girl named Lila. She’s 9 weeks old, and yeah—she’s perfect. But also? She’s chaos. She screams like she’s in a horror movie. Hates naps. Hates being put down. Basically lives in my arms.
A fussy baby in his mother’s arms | Source: Pexels
I’m on unpaid maternity leave, which sounds relaxing until you realize it means I’m working a 24/7 shift with no help, no breaks, and no paycheck.
I’m also handling the house. And the laundry. And the meals. And the litter boxes. We have two cats, both of whom shed like it’s their full-time job.
A tired woman sitting on a couch | Source: Pexels
My husband Mason is 34. He works in finance. Used to be sweet. When I was pregnant, he made me tea and rubbed my feet. Now? I’m not sure he sees me. I’m the woman who hands him the baby so he can say “she’s fussy” and give her back five seconds later.
Last week, the vacuum died. Which, in a house with two cats and beige carpet, is like losing oxygen.
A woman vacuuming | Source: Pexels
“Hey,” I told Mason while he was playing Xbox. “The vacuum finally kicked it. I found a decent one on sale. Can you grab it this week?”
He didn’t even look up. Just paused his game and said, “Why? Just use a broom.”
I blinked. “Seriously?”
He nodded. “Yeah. My mom didn’t have a vacuum when we were kids. She raised five of us with a broom. You’ve got one. And you’re home all day.”
A man lounging on the couch | Source: Pexels
I stared at him.
“You’re not joking,” I said.
“Nope.” He smirked. “She didn’t complain.”
I let out this weird laugh. Half choking, half dying inside.
“Did your mom also carry a screaming baby around while sweeping with one arm?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Probably. She got it done. Women were tougher back then.”
A man arguing with his wife | Source: Pexels
I took a breath. Tried to keep calm. “You do know the baby’s crawling soon, right? She’s going to have her face in this carpet.”
Another shrug. “The place isn’t that bad.”
I looked around. There were literal cat tumbleweeds in the corner.
“And anyway,” he added, “I don’t have spare money right now. I’m saving for the yacht trip next month. With the guys.”
“You’re saving for what?”
A man turning away from his wife | Source: Pexels
“The boat weekend. I told you. I need the break. I’m the one bringing in income right now. It’s exhausting.”
That’s when I stopped talking. Because what was I going to say?
“You haven’t changed a diaper in days?” “You nap while I pump milk at 3 a.m.?” “You think scrubbing spit-up off a onesie is relaxing?”
I didn’t say any of it. I just nodded.
A sad woman sitting on the couch | Source: Pexels
Apparently, child-rearing is a spa retreat now, and the woman doing it doesn’t deserve a working vacuum. That night, after Lila finally fell asleep on my chest, I didn’t cry. I didn’t yell.
I just sat in the hallway. The light was off, but the dim glow from the nightlight hit the baby monitor just right. It was quiet. Too quiet.
I looked at the broken vacuum. Then I looked at the broom.
A crying woman | Source: Pexels
I got up. Took the broom in both hands. Snapped it clean in half.
The next morning, while Mason was at work, I texted him.
“Busy day at the office?”
“Yeah. Back-to-backs. Why?”
“Oh. No reason. I’m just on my way.”
A woman talking on her phone at home | Source: Pexels
I packed Lila into the car, still red-faced from her morning meltdown. I tossed the broken broom in the back.
And I drove.
I pulled into the parking lot of Mason’s office with Lila screaming in the back like I’d strapped her into a rocket seat instead of a car seat. She’d just blown out her diaper on the drive, and she wasn’t shy about letting me know how she felt about it.
A baby crying | Source: Pexels
Perfect.
I wiped spit-up off my shirt, threw a burp cloth over my shoulder, hoisted the broken broom, and unbuckled the baby.
“Alright, Lila,” I muttered. “Let’s go say hi to Daddy.”
His office building was all glass and steel and fake smiles. I walked in with a red-faced baby in one arm and a jagged broom handle in the other.
A woman holding a baby | Source: Pexels
The receptionist blinked twice when she saw us.
“Can I help—?”
“I’m Mason Carter’s wife,” I said, smiling widely. “He left something important at home.”
“Oh. Um. Sure. He’s in a meeting, but you can go back.”
I walked past her desk like I owned the place.
A kind woman holding a baby | Source: Pexels
Lila started wailing again just as I turned the corner into the conference room. There he was. Mason. Sitting at a long glass table with four coworkers, laughing about something on a spreadsheet like he didn’t have a wife slowly unraveling at home.
He looked up. His face went white.
“Babe—what are you doing here?” he said, standing up fast.
I walked straight in and laid the two snapped broom pieces gently on the table in front of him.
A shocked man | Source: Pexels
“Honey,” I said, shifting Lila on my hip, “I tried using the broom like your mom did with her five kids. But it broke. Again.”
The room went silent. Someone coughed. One guy just stared at his laptop like it was suddenly the most interesting thing he’d ever seen.
I looked around the room and kept going.
A woman cuddling a sleeping baby | Source: Pexels
“So,” I said calmly, “should I keep sweeping the carpet with my hands while holding your daughter? Or are you going to buy a new vacuum?”
Mason looked like he might actually faint. His eyes darted between me, the broom, and his coworkers. His jaw opened and closed like he couldn’t decide which disaster to address first.
“Can we talk outside?” he said, his voice sharp and low, already standing.
“Of course,” I said with a smile.
A tired man looking at the camera | Source: Pexels
He yanked the door closed behind us hard enough that the glass shook.
“What the hell was that?” he hissed. His face was bright red now, all his calm corporate charm gone.
“That was me being resourceful,” I said. “Like your mom.”
“You embarrassed me!” he snapped, glancing over his shoulder toward the conference room. “That was a client pitch. My boss was in there.”
An angry businessman | Source: Pexels
“Oh, sorry,” I said, cocking my head. “I thought you said this was all part of the job. Housewife stuff. What’s the issue? I’m just doing what you said.”
He ran a hand over his face, frustrated. “I get it, okay? I messed up. I’ll get the vacuum today.”
“No need,” I said. “I already ordered one. With your card.”
I turned and walked out, Lila still crying, broom handle still under my arm.
A baby crying in their mother’s arms | Source: Pexels
Mason got home that night quieter than usual. He didn’t toss his shoes in the hallway. Didn’t drop his keys on the counter like usual. Didn’t even glance at the Xbox.
I was on the couch feeding Lila. The living room was dim except for the glow from a floor lamp and the soft hum of the white noise machine in the corner. He sat down across from me, hands folded like he was waiting to be called into the principal’s office.
A serious man sitting down | Source: Pexels
“I talked to HR today,” he said.
I looked up slowly. “HR?”
He nodded, staring at the carpet like it had answers. “Yeah. About our… situation. I said we were going through an adjustment. Stress at home. Lack of sleep. You know.”
I blinked at him. “You mean, you told your job your wife embarrassed you because she’s tired and doesn’t have a vacuum?”
A woman talking to an annoyed man | Source: Pexels
He rubbed his neck. “That’s not what I said. I just… I didn’t mean to be dismissive, okay? I’ve got a lot going on too.”
I let a beat pass. Lila made a soft grunt in her sleep.
I didn’t yell. Didn’t even raise my voice. I just looked at him and said, calm as ever, “Mason, you’re either a husband and a father, or you’re a roommate with a guilt complex. You decide.”
A woman talking to her husband | Source: Pexels
He opened his mouth like he might argue. Then he closed it. Just nodded slowly, lips pressed together like he was swallowing something bitter.
The next morning, the yacht trip got canceled. He said the guys were “rescheduling,” but I didn’t ask questions. Pretty sure “the guys” didn’t even know it was happening.
A man talking on his phone | Source: Pexels
That week, he vacuumed every rug in the house—twice. He looked like he was fighting a war with the dust bunnies. Didn’t say a word about it.
He changed three diapers without being asked. Took the 3 a.m. bottle shift two nights in a row, even when Lila screamed in his face like she knew he was new at it. He paced the hallway with her until she passed out on his shoulder.
A man on his laptop while holding a baby | Source: Pexels
He even took her for a walk Sunday morning so I could nap. Left a sticky note on the bathroom mirror that said, “Sleep. I’ve got her.”
I didn’t gloat. Didn’t say “told you so.” Didn’t bring up the office.
But the broken broom? Still sitting in the hallway, right where I left it. Just in case he forgets.
A wooden broom | Source: Pexels
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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