Two brothers would see an old man sitting by the sea every day on the same chair. One day, they were bothered when they found the chair empty and decided to find out why.
Adam, 8, and Peter, 10, visited the seaside with their mom Alice every day. They would walk together along the shore, enjoying the sea breeze.
Every single day, they would come across an old man who would sit motionlessly on a chair, watching the waves. “Mom, is that man okay?” Adam asked one day.
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“He is, sweetheart. He just likes to be alone. People have tried to talk to him, but he always just tries to avoid people. Let’s not bother him,” Alice replied.
The brothers couldn’t help but feel drawn towards the old man. They were curious as to why he would sit motionlessly on the same chair every day.
One day, they thought of a plan to approach him. While playing catch, they threw the frisbee in his direction so that they could come closer. When they ran up and apologized, the old man said, “You threw it here on purpose. I know you did… You,” he said, pointing at Adam, “you are great at throwing. And you,” the old man smiled, pointing at Peter, “are great at catching. So I know this was not an accident.”
The brothers’ eyes widened in shock. They didn’t know that the old man had been observing them, too.
For some reason, despite Alice knowing that the man didn’t talk to other people, he indulged the two boys in a long conversation. After they introduced one another, Peter finally asked the question they’ve been longing to ask: “Sir, why do you sit out here every day and watch the sea?”
“Well, I am here waiting for my brother. I have been waiting here for 10 years,” he responded. Adam and Peter looked at each other, confused.
“We were in the army together and were separated and sent to different countries. This happened a long time ago. When we last saw each other, we promised to meet at the same place, right here, where we constantly used to walk with our mother,” the old man explained.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“You wait for your brother every day?” Adam asked. “How do you know he’s still coming?” he asked. The old man smiled at Adam’s innocence.
“That’s the thing. I don’t know if he’s coming. I used to come, years ago, but my work transferred me to another city. Now, for the past 10 years of living here, I’ve been coming daily. They gave me his army dog tag, but they never found him. He is still missing,” he said, taking his brother’s dog tag out of his pocket.
Adam and Peter were sitting beside each other at that moment. The old man patted their heads and said, “That’s why you must take care of each other, boys. Brotherly love is the greatest strength in the world.”
After sharing his story, the old man introduced himself as Walter. The boys enjoyed his company that ever since that day, they would make it a point to spend time with him, bringing sandwiches and drinks. They would spend the afternoons talking and listening to each other’s stories.
One day, Walter and the brothers were surprised to see each other walking in the same direction while on the way home. “We live near each other!” Peter exclaimed. Walter couldn’t help but smile.
“I guess we do, sweet boy,” Walter said, waving before he entered his house.
The two boys felt extremely close to Walter already, after days of talking to him. They were so moved by Walter’s story that they decided to use social media to spread it, hoping to find his brother.
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One day, they went to the beach to find him and tell him about what they did. But when they got there, he was not at his usual spot. “He comes here every day! Every single day! Why isn’t he here?” Adam asked his mom.
“This can’t be. Something must have happened to him. We need to go to his house,” Peter said. At that, Alice allowed them to check Walter’s house by accompanying them there.
When they got there, they knocked. After a couple of seconds, Walter opened the door. The boys exhaled with relief. “Walter! Why didn’t you come to the beach today? Have you given up?” Adam asked him. Walter was smiling. Behind him stood a man who looked exactly like him.
The two boys were taken by surprise when the man suddenly shouted, “IT’S THEM! THOSE TWO BOYS POSTED ON THE INTERNET! I RECOGNIZED THEM RIGHT AWAY!”
Walter’s brother, James, found him thanks to the publication that Adam and Peter had put up. Walter smiled and hugged the two boys. “Thank you for finding my brother after forty-four long years,” he said, giving them both hugs.
It turns out that James was injured at the battle he was in, and he ended up losing his memory. He was sent back to the US, where he was diagnosed with dissociative amnesia caused by the overwhelming stress brought about by the war.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“I was told I would likely regain my memory either slowly, or all at once. In the past few decades, I slowly started to remember things like my first name, the fact that I lived in California, but nothing conclusive enough to bring back my old life,” James explained.
“Then one day, I was looking through the internet when I saw a post by these two sweet boys. It had a photo of you, Walter, and I suddenly remembered you and our brotherhood. I just knew we were brothers. I made my way to the address they posted right away,” he added.
At that, Walter and James took out their army dog tags from their pockets and handed one each to Adam and Peter. “We no longer need this. Because of you, we’ve found each other again. These are yours now. May it be a reminder to always take care of each other,” Walter said.
As they lived near each other, Adam and Peter would always visit Walter and James, who ended up moving in with his brother.
What can we learn from this story?
- Keeping the faith can be rewarding. Every day, Walter hoped that his brother would show up. One day, after choosing to share his story with Adam and Peter, his brother eventually showed up.
- The most unexpected relationships can mean the most. Adam and Peter never thought they’d get close to Walter, but when they did, and it brought about life-changing memories for everyone.
Share this story with your loved ones. It might inspire them and make their day.
My Husband Went on Vacation..
I thought my husband would be there for me when my mom passed away, but instead, he chose a vacation to Hawaii over my grief. Devastated, I faced the funeral alone. But when he returned, he walked into a situation he never expected—a lesson he wouldn’t soon forget. I was at work when the doctor’s number flashed on my phone, and somehow, I knew what was coming. My heart sank even before I answered. Mom was gone. Just like that. One minute she was fighting a minor lung infection, and the next… nothing. My world stopped making sense.
I don’t remember much after that. One moment I was sitting in my cubicle, and the next I was home, fumbling with my keys, eyes blurred with tears. John’s car was in the driveway, another one of his “work-from-home” days, which usually meant ESPN muted in the background while he pretended to answer emails.“John?” My voice echoed through the house. “I need you.” He stepped into the kitchen, holding a coffee mug, looking mildly annoyed. “What’s wrong? You look terrible.” I tried to speak, but the words got tangled in my throat. I reached out to him, desperate for comfort. He sighed and gave me a quick, awkward pat on the back, like he was consoling a distant acquaintance. “My mom… she died, John. Mom’s gone.” His grip tightened for a moment. “Oh, wow. That’s… I’m sorry.” Then, just as quickly, he pulled away. “Do you want me to order takeout?
Maybe Thai?” I nodded, numb. The next day, reality hit hard. There was so much to handle—planning the funeral, notifying family, and dealing with a lifetime of memories. As I sat at the kitchen table, buried in lists, I remembered our planned vacation. “John, we’ll need to cancel Hawaii,” I said, looking up from my phone. “The funeral will probably be next week, and—” “Cancel?”
He lowered his newspaper, frowning. “Edith, those tickets were non-refundable. We’d lose a lot of money. Besides, I’ve already booked my golf games.” I stared at him, stunned. “John, my mother just died.” He folded the newspaper with the kind of precision that told me he was more irritated than concerned. “I get that you’re upset, but funerals are for family. I’m just your husband—your cousins won’t even notice I’m not there. You can handle things here, and you know I’m not great with emotional stuff.” It felt like I’d been punched in the gut. “Just my husband?” “You know what I mean,” he muttered, avoiding my gaze and adjusting his tie. “Besides, someone should use those tickets. You can text me if you need anything.” I felt like I was seeing him clearly for the first time in 15 years of marriage. The week that followed was a blur. John occasionally offered a stiff pat on the shoulder or suggested I watch a comedy to lift my mood. But when the day of the funeral came, he was on a plane to Hawaii, posting Instagram stories of sunsets and cocktails. “#LivingMyBestLife,” one caption read. Meanwhile, I buried my mother alone on a rainy Thursday. That night, sitting in an empty house, surrounded by untouched sympathy casseroles, something snapped inside me. I had spent years making excuses for John’s emotional absence. “He’s just not a feelings person,” I would say. “He shows his love in other ways.” But I was done pretending.I called my friend Sarah, a realtor. “Can you list the house for me? Oh, and include John’s Porsche in the deal.” “His Porsche? Eddie, he’ll lose it!” “That’s the point.” The next morning, “potential buyers” started showing up. I sat in the kitchen, sipping coffee, watching as they circled John’s beloved car. When his Uber finally pulled into the driveway, I couldn’t help but smile. It was showtime. John stormed in, face flushed. “Edith, what the hell? People are asking about my car!” “Oh, that. I’m selling the house. The Porsche is a great bonus, don’t you think?”He sputtered, pulling out his phone. “This is insane! I’ll call Sarah right now!” “Go ahead,” I said sweetly. “Maybe you can tell her about your fabulous vacation. How was the beach?” Realization slowly dawned across his face. “This… is this some kind of payback? Did I do something wrong?” I stood, letting my anger finally surface. “You abandoned me when I needed you most. I’m just doing what you do: looking out for myself. After all, I’m just your wife, right?” John spent the next hour frantically trying to shoo away buyers, while begging me to reconsider. By the time Sarah texted that her friends had run out of patience, I let him off the hook—sort of. “Fine. I won’t sell the house or the car.” I paused. “This time.” He sagged with relief. “Thank you, Edith. I—” I held up my hand. “But things are going to change. I needed my husband, and you weren’t there. You’re going to start acting like a partner, or next time, the For Sale sign will be real.” He looked ashamed, finally understanding the gravity of his actions. “What can I do to make this right?” “You can start by showing up. Be a partner, not a roommate. I lost my mother, John. That kind of grief isn’t something you can fix with a vacation or a fancy dinner.” He nodded. “I don’t know how to be the man you need, but I love you, and I want to try.” It’s not perfect now. John still struggles with emotions, but he’s going to therapy, and last week, for the first time, he asked me how I was feeling about Mom. He listened while I talked about how much I missed her calls and how I sometimes still reach for the phone, only to remember she’s not there. He even opened up a little about his own feelings. It’s progress. Baby steps. I often wonder what Mom would say about all this. I can almost hear her chuckling, shaking her head. “That’s my girl,” she’d say. “Never let them see you sweat. Just show them the ‘For Sale’ sign instead.” Because if there’s one thing she taught me, it’s that strength comes in many forms. Sometimes it’s pushing through the pain, and sometimes it’s knowing when to push back.
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