Seventeen-year-old Andrew is used to getting what he wants and treating people badly when he doesn’t get it, but his father decides it’s time Andrew learned a lesson about respect when he mistreats a flight attendant.
“Do you think he’ll be okay?”
Steven had been watching his seventeen-year-old son walk toward the airport boarding gate, but now he looked down at his wife.
“Of course Andrew will be okay,” he replied.
“I hope this new school can help him learn some humility.”
“But what if they treat him badly in the dorms?” Steven’s wife looked up at him. “He’s never been to boarding school before.”
“That’s the point.” Steven clenched his jaw. “Andrew has become spoiled and he needs to learn some tough lessons about life.”
Months later, Andrew was flying home for the holidays after his first semester of boarding school. He’d hated every minute of his time there and was eager to return to his high-powered computer and the luxury car he got for his sixteenth birthday.
“Hey, you.” Andrew waved to the flight attendant, a redhead woman with freckles.
“How can I help you, sir?” The flight attendant smiled at him.
“You can get me something better to snack on than these peanuts.” Andrew threw the bag of peanuts at her.
The flight attendant’s smile turned into a frown. “Sir, please don’t throw things at me.”
“I’ll do what I like,” Andrew replied. “You’re here to serve me, so stop complaining and do your job.”
“Don’t talk to her like that.” The older man in the seat beside Andrew turned to look at him.
“Just because it’s her job to serve us doesn’t mean you can disrespect her.”
Andrew rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers at the flight attendant. “I’m still waiting for my snack.”
The flight attendant walked away with her eyes downcast. The older man in the next seat shook his head.
“Your parents must be so disappointed in you,” the elderly man muttered.
“Nobody asked you, old man.” Andrew began scrolling through the movie options.
After a few minutes, the flight attendant returned with a pretzel.
“Here you go, sir,” she said and held out the pretzel to him. “If there’s anything else —”
Andrew sneered and slapped the pretzel out of her hand. “I don’t want a pretzel!”
The flight attendant recoiled, tears forming in her eyes. “Peanuts and pretzels are the only snacks we serve on this flight.”
“That’s pathetic, just like you.” Andrew leaned forward in his seat. “Go and fetch me a proper snack, now!”
“How dare you talk to her like that?” A woman rose from her seat across the aisle and put a hand on the flight attendant’s arm.
“If she did her job then I wouldn’t have to.” Andrew pointed at the flight attendant.
“She’s a servant, and a bad one too.”
The flight attendant burst into tears. The woman passenger tried to comfort her.
“Somebody ought to give you a hiding, young man.” The elderly passenger in the seat next to Andrew scowled at him.
“I agree.” Somebody placed a hand on his shoulder.
At that moment, Andrew understood what his father had been trying to teach him.
Andrew recognized that voice. He turned and stared in surprise when he saw his dad behind him. His face was red with anger.
“Dad, what are you doing here?” Andrew asked.
“Flying home from a business trip,” Steven replied. “I hoped we might meet on the plane, but I never imagined it would be like this. Apologize to this young lady and the other passengers immediately.”
Andrew hunched his shoulders and mumbled an apology. He didn’t see what the big deal was, but he knew better than to disobey his father when he was so angry.
When Andrew and his father got home, Steven marched him straight to his office on the second floor of the luxurious house.
“This comes to an end right now.”
Steven shut the door and turned to point at Andrew. “Your behavior is disgusting. I hoped that you might learn manners in boarding school, but it seems I was wrong.”
“Why are you making such a big deal out of this?” Andrew threw out his arms. “She’s just a flight attendant. It’s not like she’s important.”
“And that’s your problem, Andrew. You think you’re better than others because you were born into a wealthy family, and that you can treat others badly because of that.” Steven crossed his arms. “That’s going to change.”
“What does that mean?”
“You won’t be going back to that school. You’ll finish your education at a public school, and you’re going to spend your holiday working.”
“Working?” Andrew straightened up. “Are you giving me a job at your company?”
Steven smiled. “You could say that. I’m going to give you a job in my cleaning company, as a janitor.”
Andrew was horrified.
“I won’t do it!”
“You will because I’m also cutting off all your privileges. I’m taking your bank cards, your computer, your car, and your cell phone. I’m even taking your branded clothes.” Steven put his hands on his hips. “You’re going to find out what it means to respect people.”
Andrew had no choice. His father took his possessions from him, and he started his job as an airport janitor the next day.
Andrew knew nothing about cleaning. The older woman he was assigned to work with laughed at him for not knowing how to sweep or mop. He shouted at her for laughing at him and threatened to get her fired.
“No, you won’t,” she replied, shaking her finger at him. “Your father warned me about you, now get to work. These floors don’t clean themselves.”
Andrew sighed and started sweeping. He was clumsy, and his supervisor teased him about it. Andrew got angry, but there was nothing he could do about it.
He was cleaning the trash cans when something hit him. He turned and saw that somebody had thrown an empty takeaway carton at him.
“Hey!” Andrew shouted at the man who’d thrown the carton. “How dare you throw that at me.”
The man ignored Andrew, so he ran after him and grabbed his arm.
“I’m talking to you,” Andrew said.
The man shook Andrew off so hard that he fell to the ground. “Get your filthy hands off me, you dirty janitor.”
Andrew watched the man walk away in shock. Was this how it felt to be treated like you didn’t matter? Andrew didn’t like it. He looked around just as somebody kicked him.
“Get out of the way, you lazy bum.” The woman who’d kicked him sneered at him.
“I’m going to report you for sleeping on the job.”
At that moment, Andrew understood what his father had been trying to teach him. He knew now how much it hurt to be mistreated by people who thought they were better than you.
A flash of red caught his eye, and Andrew looked up. He recognized the flight attendant he’d been rude to and hurried across to her.
“I’m so sorry,” he said when he reached her. “I treated you so badly.”
The woman was surprised to see him, but she smiled when he apologized.
“I’m glad you’ve learned the error of your ways,” she said.
What can we learn from this story?
Everyone deserves respect. It doesn’t matter if somebody works a menial job; they’re still a person and deserve to be treated respectfully.
Sometimes children need to learn a lesson the hard way. It can be difficult for children to understand the true depth of important life lessons when they’ve never experienced that situation.
Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.
My Older Brother Left Me at an Orphanage, Promising to Return — I Only Saw Him Again 23 Years Later by Accident
When Tom’s parents died, his brother, Dylan, left him at an orphanage with a promise: “I’ll COME BACK FOR YOU.” But Dylan vanished, and for 23 years, Tom waited for answers. A chance meeting brought them face-to-face, uncovering a truth that shook Tom and forced him to make an impossible choice.
There’s a haunting loneliness that comes from being forgotten by the one person who’s supposed to protect you. I know it well. I was four years old when I lost everything. My parents died in a car crash on a chilly autumn morning.
I don’t remember much about that day — the screech of tires, a stranger lifting me out of my parents’ crumpled car, and the way my brother Dylan held me close as I cried into his shirt. He was 18, my protector, and my hero. I thought he’d always be there.
A sad little boy holding a teddy bear | Source: Midjourney
The next few weeks were a blur of adults talking in hushed voices, courtrooms that smelled like old books, and, eventually, the orphanage.
I remember clinging to Dylan’s hand as we walked into the gray, cold building. It smelled like disinfectant and sadness. The director greeted us with a tired smile, but I barely noticed her. My eyes were on Dylan. And my heart was silently pleading: “Please… please don’t leave me here, brother.”
“Everything’s going to be fine, Tommy,” he said, crouching down so we were face-to-face. His voice was steady, but his hands trembled a little. “I just need to sort out the paperwork for guardianship, okay? I promise I’ll take you home as soon as it’s done. You’ll come live with me.”
“You promise?” I asked, my voice small and shaky, my glistening eyes bearing volumes of a grief no child should bear.
A man holding a child’s hand | Source: Pexels
“Hey, look at me,” he whispered, gripping my shoulders. “I’m your big brother. I would never, ever abandon you. Those papers are just a formality. Just hold on tight, Tommy. I’ll move heaven and earth to get you out of here.”
“Promise?” I asked.
The orphanage director watched us quietly, her gaze soft but knowing… as if she’d heard such promises countless times before.
“I swear,” he said, ruffling my hair. “I’ll visit you every single day. Tomorrow, okay? Just wait for me.”
And that was the last time I saw Dylan.
A heartbroken little boy looking up | Source: Midjourney
The first few days, I waited by the window in the orphanage’s playroom, watching every car that pulled up.
I refused to play with the other kids, convinced Dylan would walk through the door any minute.
But he didn’t come.
I asked the director about him every morning. “Has my brother called? Did he leave a message?”
She’d smile sadly and shake her head. “Not yet, Tom. Maybe tomorrow.”
A sad little boy standing by the window | Source: Midjourney
“But he promised,” I’d insist, my voice cracking with desperation. “He looked me in the eye and swore he’d come back! Why would he lie to me?”
“Sometimes grown-ups have complicated lives, Tommy,” she’d respond, her hand trembling slightly as she touched my shoulder. “Sometimes promises get tangled up in grown-up problems.”
“I don’t care about grown-up problems!” I’d shout, tears streaming down my face. “He’s my brother. He’s supposed to protect me! He’s my only family.”
A shattered little boy crying | Source: Pexels
Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Slowly, the hope that burned so brightly in my little chest began to flicker. By the time a year had passed, it had gone out completely.
Eventually, I was adopted by a kind but struggling family. They gave me a roof over my head and taught me to work hard for everything I wanted. But they couldn’t erase the ache of abandonment and memories that refused to fade.
I threw myself into schoolwork, determined to prove I was worth something.
Years drifted by, like leaves on a gentle breeze. I graduated high school with honors, earned a full scholarship to college, and built a life for myself. At 27, I was managing a division of a chemical company, married to a wonderful woman, and living a life I was proud of.
A young man in an elegant suit | Source: Midjourney
But deep in my heart, there was a scar that never healed… a scar from 23 years ago.
It was my wife, Lily, who suggested we take a vacation to Miami. “You’ve been working nonstop,” she said. “Let’s unwind… just the two of us.”
A week later, we were checking into a small beachfront hotel, the salty breeze and sound of waves already working their magic on my frayed nerves.
A couple in a resort | Source: Midjourney
On our second day, we wandered into a tiny convenience store to grab some snacks. I was browsing the shelves when Lily nudged me.
“Tom, look at that cashier’s name badge.”
I turned, and my breath caught in my throat. The badge read “DYLAN.”
My eyes traveled up to the face behind the counter — a face I’d almost forgotten. But there it was. The same piercing blue eyes, and the familiar scar above his left eyebrow.
A man with a name badge pinned to his shirt | Source: Midjourney
“Oh my God,” I whispered, gripping her arm. “Is that really HIM?” I couldn’t speak again. My heart was thundering in my ears, a storm of emotions threatening to overwhelm me.
“Do you want me to go with you?” Lily asked softly, her hand squeezing mine.
“No,” I managed to choke out. “This is something I need to do alone.”
I felt like a child again, frozen in place, torn between disbelief and a desperate, irrational hope. Then, with slow, deliberate steps, I approached the man seemingly in his early forties.
“Hi, BROTHER,” I said, my voice trembling with 23 years of unspoken pain and longing. “Have you forgotten about the little brother you so easily abandoned at the orphanage?”
A man staring at someone | Source: Midjourney
The cashier’s head snapped up. He stared at me, his mouth opening and closing like he couldn’t find the words.
“TOM?” he finally whispered, his face going pale.
“How did you—” he continued, but before he could finish, his eyes rolled back, and he clutched his chest.
“CALL 911!” his coworker screamed.
Chaos erupted around me, but all I could see was my brother collapsing to the floor. I rode with Dylan in the ambulance, my hands gripping the edges of the stretcher as the paramedics worked to stabilize him.
An ambulance speeding across the street | Source: Unsplash
“Hang in there,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “I’m not losing you again.”
Lily followed in our rental car. At the hospital, I paced the hallway outside the emergency room, replaying our brief interaction over and over. How had it come to this?
Finally, a doctor emerged. “He’s stable for now,” he said. “It looks like he had a mild heart attack, but he’s going to be okay.”
Relief flooded through me. When I stepped into Dylan’s room, he looked smaller than I remembered.
A doctor examining a report | Source: Pexels
“You’re alive,” I said, exhaling sharply. “Good. Now explain to me why you abandoned me.”
He flinched. “Tom, I—”
“Don’t,” I snapped, my voice rising with decades of suppressed anger. “You made a ‘promise.’ A promise that meant EVERYTHING to a four-year-old boy who had just lost his entire world!”
Dylan’s hands shook as he tried to speak. “I was young. Scared. I thought I was doing the right thing.”
“The right thing?” I laughed bitterly. “Leaving your baby brother in an orphanage was the right thing? I waited for you, Dylan. EVERY SINGLE DAY. I believed in you. Why did you betray me? WHY?”
A furious man | Source: Midjourney
“I sold the house,” he said quietly, his eyes fixed on the blanket. “I thought I could start over in Miami with my girlfriend. But the money ran out fast, and she left me. I’ve been working dead-end jobs ever since.”
His words hit me like a punch to the gut. “So you left me to rot in that orphanage because you wanted a fresh start?”
“Tom, I was 18,” he said, his voice cracking. “I didn’t know how to take care of myself, let alone you.”
I shook my head, the anger and pain I’d buried for decades bubbling to the surface. “I needed you, Dylan. You were all I had left, and you LEFT ME.”
A distressed man sitting on the bed | Source: Freepik
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, tears streaming down his face. “I’ve regretted it every single day of my life.”
I completely lost it then and there. “Your sorry won’t mend my heart, Dylan. Goodbye.”
I turned and walked out, his broken sobs echoing in my ears.
In the hallway, a doctor stopped me. “Sir, we did a more detailed examination. Your brother has cancer. He needs surgery immediately, but it’s expensive. I thought you should know.”
A man in the hospital | Source: Midjourney
The words were like ice water, jolting me out of my fury. But instead of going back, I walked straight out of the hospital. I didn’t stop until I was back in our hotel room. Lily took one look at me and knew something was wrong.
“What happened?” she asked gently.
“He abandoned me,” I said, my voice flat. “And now he needs me to save him. He’s dying, Lily. He has cancer.”
She placed a hand on mine. “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know,” I said. But even as the words left my mouth, I knew they weren’t true.
A couple holding hands | Source: Unsplash
For days, I wrestled with my conscience. Dylan had betrayed me in the worst way, but could I live with myself if I turned my back on him now?
Finally, I made my decision.
When I walked back into Dylan’s hospital room, he looked up in surprise. “Tom?”
I pulled up a chair and sat down. “I’ll pay for the surgery,” I said. “Because I’m not like you, Dylan. I can’t leave you in trouble, no matter what you did to me.”
His eyes, bloodshot and weary, locked onto mine. “Why?” he whispered, his voice cracking. “After everything I put you through, why would you help me?”
An emotional man’s eyes | Source: Unsplash
“Because abandoning someone isn’t a one-time act,” I said, my voice cold and measured. “It’s a wound that keeps reopening. Every time I thought I’d healed, the memory of being left behind would slice through me again.”
He broke down, tears streaming down his face. “I’m sorry,” he choked out. “For everything. For abandoning you. For failing you.”
“Sorry?” I leaned closer, my anger barely contained. “Sorry doesn’t erase 23 years of loneliness. Sorry doesn’t give me back the childhood I lost. Sorry doesn’t replace the birthdays without a family, the Christmases without a brother.”
An angry young man | Source: Midjourney
I let out a shaky breath as I tossed wads of money onto his bed. “I forgive you, Dylan. But forgiveness doesn’t mean forgetting. Take this and save yourself. This is the least I can do for the brother I… never had. We’re done. Our paths diverge here. GOODBYE.”
He nodded, too overcome with emotion to speak, his trembling hands gripping the hospital bed’s railing. I rose and walked out of the room, the weight on my chest feeling a little lighter.
I’d done the right thing. I couldn’t change the past, but I wouldn’t let it define my future.
Dylan and I never saw each other again. But there were no more regrets.
A man walking away | Source: Midjourney
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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