Most parents would give their entire world for the well-being of their children, but sadly, not every child gets to live in a loving home and experience affection, care, and love. Some are neglected and even abused by those who are supposed to provide for them and treat them as jewels.
Four people took to Reddit to tell their life stories and share how beside the injustice and the horrible treatment by their parents they still managed to stand on their feet and turn their lives around. As of their moms and dads, they got what they deserved at the end.
Read their stories below.
Father Needs Son’s Help after Bringing Him up in an Abusive Childhood
In 2019, an individual who identified as Asian turned to Reddit’s “AITA” forum to share a narrative. Recounting his upbringing, the man revealed that his father’s treatment during his childhood was marked by being frequently kicked out of his home.
The family’s financial struggles led them to reside in a subpar townhouse in an unfavorable part of town. Following the common stereotype associated with Asian fathers, the narrator’s dad exhibited extreme strictness regarding academic performance.
If the original poster (OP) received a grade below 70, was tardy to class, or failed to adhere to a curfew, his father’s response was consistent: eviction from the house. Despite his pleas and appeals, he would find himself relegated outdoors with only a sleeping bag, regardless of the weather conditions — rain or snow.
This pattern continued until the age of 16 when a friend extended the courtesy of allowing OP to stay overnight. Each time he was expelled, he would eventually return, apologize, and be permitted to re-enter the home, with him revealing: “[My father] kicked me out at 18 and I didn’t come back home.”
Instead, he opted to stay with a friend and engaged in consistent employment to finance his education. From that day onward, he stopped communicating with his father. Finally, at the age of 29, he found marital bliss with a child on the way.
OP’s mother passed away at the time—a poignant event that brought about a series of unexpected encounters. Amid the atmosphere of mourning and reflection, his father made an appearance at his son’s home, bearing the weight of past grievances. It appeared to be an attempt at reconciliation for the turbulent upbringing that had marked OP’s formative years.
Despite initial perceptions of genuineness, a lingering skepticism arose because OP’s dad had faced his own share of hardships. The closure of his convenience store seven years prior and the deterioration of his pension painted a complex backdrop to the situation.
In a moment that demanded honesty and clarity, the Redditor took the initiative to question his father’s motives for his visit. With a tone of desperation, his dad admitted his intentions—he sought a place to stay. OP, perhaps burdened by a mix of emotions from the past and the present, retreated momentarily into the house.
Upon returning, a sleeping bag was flung unceremoniously onto the lawn—an act loaded with the history of past rejections and a symbol of his dad’s actions. An essential facet of the narrative was inadvertently omitted in the initial retelling. Over time, the father had sought to make amends through sporadic financial offerings sent via mail.
These modest sums, accumulating to around $1500, remained tucked away in the recesses of OP’s closet, which he intended to return at his mother’s funeral reception. Upon the passing of his mother, his wife and friends reacted to his decision.
The Power of Love and Redemption
In a world where family bonds are sometimes tested, there is a story that teaches us the true value of compassion and understanding. It all began when my brother Paul made the heart-wrenching decision to kick our beloved Grandma Eleanor out of her own home because she couldn’t contribute financially. Little did he know that this act of cruelty would lead to a powerful lesson that he would never forget.
Filled with love and loyalty, I couldn’t bear the thought of my grandmother being alone and abandoned. So, I made the choice to take her into my own home. But as Paul’s regret started to surface, I wondered if it would be enough to mend our broken family bonds.
My Brother Kicked Our Grandma out Because She Had No Money Left – She Taught Him a Lesson He Will Never Forget
“Rachel, I can’t keep doing this,” Paul exclaimed, his frustration evident. “She’s costing too much.”
Trying to stay calm, I reminded him of the incredible impact Grandma had on our lives. “Paul, she’s our grandmother. She raised us, remember?”
But Paul seemed focused only on the present, dismissing the value of Grandma’s presence. He saw her as someone who had nothing to offer, someone who just sat there, wasting time on her paintings.
Those paintings, however, held deep meaning for Grandma. And I believed that they could hold meaning for us too, if we allowed ourselves to see it.
Paul dismissed my sentimentality, claiming that he needed to think about the future and couldn’t afford to carry what he saw as “dead weight.” His words weighed heavy on my heart. It wasn’t about what Grandma could give us now, it was about the love and sacrifices she had already made.
As weeks passed, Paul’s coldness grew, and Grandma Eleanor tried to hide her pain. But I could see it in her eyes, the way she clutched her paintbrushes like lifelines.
Then one evening, the moment I had feared arrived. Paul called me, determined to have Grandma moved out.
It was heartbreaking. “Where will she go?” I asked, my voice filled with worry.
Paul’s response was cold and unexpected. “She can stay with you. You seem to care so much.”
I agreed to take Grandma in, but bitterness lingered in my mouth. I couldn’t understand how Paul had become so heartless. I prepared a space for Grandma that felt like home, where she could paint and be herself without feeling like a burden.
When I broke the news to Grandma, she smiled softly even though tears glistened in her eyes. “Thank you, Rachel. You’ve always had a kind heart.”
I held her tightly, assuring her that she didn’t need to thank me. This was her home too, and she was surrounded by love.
The move was swift, with Paul not even lifting a finger to help. He watched from the doorway as we packed up Grandma’s belongings, seemingly convinced that he was doing the right thing.
Driving Grandma to my house, silence enveloped us. But as we pulled into the driveway, she reached over and squeezed my hand. “I’ll be okay, Rachel.”
Inside, my children greeted her with open arms. “Great-Grandma, show us how to paint like you!” they exclaimed, pulling her into the living room where her easel was already set up.
Eleanor smiled, a genuine smile that hadn’t been seen in weeks. “Of course, darlings. Let’s create something beautiful.”
Days turned into weeks, and Grandma Eleanor rediscovered her passion for painting. My children became her biggest fans, always eager to see her latest work. I couldn’t help but admire her vibrant landscapes and remarked, “Grandma, you’ve got a real gift.”
With my kids’ encouragement, Grandma started to share her artwork online. Her unique style and heartfelt stories behind each painting began to attract attention. Comments poured in, praising her talent and resilience.
Then one evening, a message from a local art gallery arrived. They wanted to give Grandma a solo exhibition! The excitement was overwhelming, and I couldn’t help but hug her tightly, congratulating her on this incredible opportunity.
In the weeks leading up to the exhibition, Grandma worked tirelessly, creating new pieces and preparing for the big day. My kids pitched in, assisting with selecting frames and writing descriptions for each painting.
The night of the exhibition arrived, and the gallery buzzed with excitement. People admired Grandma’s work, and almost every painting found a new home. She even received several commissions, securing her financial independence.
Standing before the crowd, Grandma’s voice was steady and strong. “Thank you all for believing in me,” she said, tears of joy streaming down her face.
Word of Grandma’s success eventually reached Paul, and he found himself standing at my doorstep, his tone uncharacteristically soft. He admitted that he had made a terrible mistake and regretted his heartless actions.
But Grandma, with a fire in her eyes, made it clear that it was too late for his apologies. She told him that he needed to learn the true value of family, love, and support—something that couldn’t be bought with money.
As Paul left, realizing the gravity of his actions, Grandma turned to me. She expressed her gratitude for the love and support my children and I had shown her. We hugged, knowing that she was finally where she belonged.
Grandma Eleanor’s art continued to flourish, her story of resilience and dignity inspiring many. Her exhibitions became not only an opportunity to admire her beautiful paintings but also a chance to hear her story, to understand the woman who found strength in the face of adversity.
Sitting in the living room one evening, surrounded by my kids eagerly painting at her feet, I thanked Grandma for all that she had taught us. Her strength had changed us all, and she had shown us the true essence of family.
Her eyes sparkled with pride as she replied, “It’s never too late to find your strength, Rachel. And it’s never too late to teach others the true essence of family.”
As for Paul, he was left to grapple with the consequences of his actions. From a distance, he witnessed Grandma’s life blooming without him. It was a harsh lesson, a reminder that true wealth comes from the love and respect we give to those who matter most.
This story is inspired by real events. Although the names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative, the lessons of love, compassion, and redemption are very real. Don’t let materialism blind you to the value of family, for they are the ones who truly enrich our lives.
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