A poor old lonely woman named Emma started receiving deliveries every day from an unknown source. She and her late husband never had children together, so she could not tell where these deliveries came from.
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When Emma Richards’ husband died seven years ago, she was devastated. She now had to live out the rest of her life alone, taking care of herself as she had no one else to do it for her.
She and her husband John didn’t have any children that could look after her. Every time Emma was asked why, she always just shrugged and avoided answering.
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One day, while Emma was sitting in her bedroom watching TV, somebody rang the doorbell. She wasn’t expecting any visitors, so she decided to go check who it was.
As she opened the front door, a delivery man in his 40s stood there with several boxes. He was wearing a mask, so she could not see his face clearly.
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“Hello. I am not expecting a package from anybody. May I know who this is from?” Emma asked him.
“I’m sorry ma’am, but these packages were sent anonymously. Rest assured, our security checked them and they are absolutely safe. These are for you,” he said, placing the boxes on Emma’s table by the door.
“That’s strange… thank you, sweet boy,” Emma replied before shutting the door.
When the delivery man left, Emma opened the boxes quickly as she was curious about what was inside. In the first box, there were small household appliances like a new oven toaster, sandwich press, and coffee maker.
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“Who would give me all of these?” she said to herself. She proceeded to open the second box, and there were beautiful clothes inside, as well as groceries.
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Every day, Emma started to receive more packages. It’d always be the same delivery man handing them over, so she decided to get to know him.
“What is your name, sweet boy?” she asked.
“My name is Ted Harrison,” the delivery man smiled. “Mrs. Richards, the sender requested for us to give you this. I’ll wait until you finish answering it,” he added, handing her an envelope.
Curious, Emma opened it and read it quickly. It said: Mrs. Richards, please let me know what you need for yourself, and I will grant them.
“Oh, I am dying to know who has been giving me all of these! Now that person even wants me to make requests!” she exclaimed.
“I’m sure the sender loves you very dearly, even though you don’t know who it is,” the delivery man smiled.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
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Emma obliged and wrote what she needed. She didn’t want the person to spend a lot for her, so she only wrote down necessities.
Since that short and sweet encounter, Emma began to prepare quick snacks for Ted the delivery man. For an entire month, he went to her house, handing her parcels that had clothes, food, books, and other novelty items.
At one point, Emma started to get used to Ted’s company. He would spend time with her by eating snacks together and volunteering to do some housework that she couldn’t do herself.
However, one day, Ted didn’t come. Suddenly concerned, Emma decided to head over to the local post office to find him.
“Hello, can you please page Ted Harrison? I just have some donuts I wanted to give him,” she asked the young woman at the reception table. The young woman looked confused.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. There’s nobody named Ted Harrison who works here,” she replied.
“Oh… but he has been delivering my packages every day. That’s strange,” Emma said, suddenly disappointed. She did not know where to find Ted, and it upset her.
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She walked back home with so many thoughts suddenly going through her head. Who could this kind Samaritan be? Did I go to the wrong post office? Was Ted just pretending to be a delivery man?
As she got to her front porch, she was surprised to see a tiny box in front of the door. There, she saw a key and a note that read:
I learned the truth just a month ago when I decided to hire a private investigator to find out where I came from. I know you blame yourself and regret what you did. However, I want you to know that I don’t blame you and that I know you only had my best interest at heart.
You and your husband could not feed me, so you gave me up for adoption. I ended up in a wealthy family that treated me like their own, but something always felt lacking. I realized that was you, mom.
You’re lacking in my life, and I would love to spend more time with you. If you’d be willing, I recently bought a new house. I had a key duplicated for you in case you wanted to move in with me. Please, allow me to take care of you. With love, your delivery man, Ted.
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Emma was shaking by the time she finished reading the message. She had always longed to see her son before she died, and she couldn’t believe that it was him who found her. And that son turned out to be Ted! She couldn’t help but cry, all the guilt from her past catching up with her once again.
It was true what Ted found out about their past. Emma and John were on the verge of bankruptcy when they found out she was pregnant. They knew they wouldn’t be able to raise Ted in a good environment, so they put him up for adoption.
They left their son at an orphanage when he was only months old. With his belongings, Emma left a letter that explained why they could not raise him. The letter was anonymous, but after convincing the orphanage directors to disclose the contents of his adoption papers, Ted found Emma’s name.
Emma wanted to see Ted immediately. She prepared to leave her house to meet him, but someone knocked on the door. When she opened it, she saw Ted.
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“Hi, mom,” Ted said softly.
Emma started to cry. “I can’t believe it. My son,” she started sobbing. She pulled him in for a hug and refused to let go. “I am so sorry, sweetheart. I truly am. I wish you can forgive me,” Emma continued to cry.
“You don’t need to apologize, mom. I’m here because I want to spend more time with you. It’s not too late to start over. We can still be a family,” Ted said before breaking their long hug.
That night, Ted and Emma spent time together by packing her belongings in boxes. A truck was waiting outside, where they loaded her things so they could transfer them to Ted’s house.
There, Emma was surprised to see Ted’s wife and children. They were just as excited as Ted to welcome her into their home, and since then, Emma never had to be alone again.
What can we learn from this story?
- The past doesn’t have to define the future. Emma thought she’d never get to spend time with her son ever again until her son decided to search for the truths of his life that led him to find his biological mom. They ended up moving in together and starting anew.
- Forgiveness can be a beautiful thing. Instead of holding a grudge against his biological parents, Ted chose to forgive them. He even decided to introduce himself to his mom so as to build a relationship with her.
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My parents forced me to pay for my own dinner while they covered the bill for everyone else – Their justification was absurd
Jennifer’s parents caught her off guard during a family dinner by unexpectedly asking her to cover the cost of her meal, while they paid for everyone else. Jennifer’s resentment brews as the sting of unfairness deepens, setting the stage for a confrontation the family won’t forget.
The night I got the text from Mom about a “special family dinner,” I nearly choked on my microwaved ramen. It had been ages since we’d all gotten together, and even longer since it felt like my parents actually wanted me there.
love my family, but being the middle child is like being the bologna in a sandwich where everyone’s fighting over the bread.
I stared at my phone, thumb hovering over the keyboard. Part of me wanted to make up some lame excuse, but then I thought about Tina and Cameron, my perfect older sister and my can-do-no-wrong little brother.
They’d be there, basking in Mom and Dad’s approval, like always. And I’d remain the perpetual afterthought if I didn’t show up.
“Count me in,” I typed, hitting send before I could change my mind.
Mom replied instantly. “Great! Le Petit Château, 7 p.m. next Friday. Don’t be late!”
Le Petit Château. Fancy. I whistled low, already mentally tallying up my savings. This wasn’t going to be cheap, but hey, maybe it was a sign things were changing. Maybe they actually wanted to spend time with me, Jennifer the Forgettable.
That Friday, I arrived at the restaurant ten minutes early, feeling nervous. Just as I was about to go in, Mom and Dad showed up. Mom was all smiles, while Dad wore his usual concerned expression.
Inside, we found a cozy table, and soon after, Tina and Robert joined us. Tina looked stunning, as always, making me feel like a potato by comparison. Finally, Cameron arrived, late as usual, and complaining about traffic.
Now we were all settled, Mom wasted no time in making me feel insignificant.
“So, Jennifer,” Mom said, peering at me over her menu, “how’s work going? Still at that little marketing firm?”
I nodded, trying not to bristle at the ‘little’ part. “Yeah, it’s good. We just landed a pretty big client, actually. I’m heading up the campaign.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” Mom said, her attention already drifting back to Tina, who was regaling Dad with tales of her son’s latest soccer game.
That stung, but the atmosphere improved while we ate. The food was great, and soon we were talking and laughing like we used to when I was a kid.
I was enjoying the meal and the rare feeling of being part of the family, but then the check came.
Dad reached for it and started going over the bill, like he always did. But then he frowned, looking directly at me.
“Jennifer,” he said, his voice oddly formal, “you’ll be covering your portion tonight.”
I blinked, sure I’d heard him wrong. “What?”
“You’re an adult now,” he continued, as if explaining something to a child. “It’s time you start paying your own way.”
“But…” I started, my voice small, “I thought this was a family dinner. You’re paying for everyone else.”
Dad’s frown deepened. “Your sister and brother have families to support. You’re single, so it’s only fair.”
Fair. The word echoed in my head, mocking me. I swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. Without a word, I pulled out my credit card and handed it to the waiter, praying it wouldn’t get declined.
The rest of the night was a blur. As I drove home, the hurt began to curdle into something else. Something harder, angrier.
The next morning, I woke up with a headache and a heart full of resentment. I spent the day alternating between moping on the couch and pacing my apartment like a caged animal. By evening, something inside me had shifted.
I wasn’t just going to let this go. Not this time.
An idea started to form. Crazy at first, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. I was going to give them a taste of their own medicine.
I invited Mom and Dad over for dinner and then spent days perfecting the menu. I cleaned my apartment until it sparkled, bought fancy candles, and even splurged on a tablecloth that didn’t come from the dollar store.
The night of the dinner arrived, and I was eerily calm. I had a plan, and I was sticking to it.
The doorbell rang at 7 p.m. sharp. I took a deep breath and opened the door with a smile plastered on my face.
“Mom, Dad! Come in!”
Dad handed me a bottle of wine. “Place looks nice, Jennifer.”
“Thanks,” I said, ushering them to the living room. “Dinner’s almost ready. Can I get you something to drink?”
As I poured their wine, Mom settled onto the couch, her eyes roaming over my bookshelf. “So, how have you been, dear? We haven’t heard much from you since… well, since our last dinner.”
I forced a light laugh. “Oh, you know how it is. Work’s been crazy busy.”
We made small talk for a while, the conversation stilted and full of long pauses. Finally, the oven timer beeped, saving us all.
“Dinner’s ready!” I announced, perhaps a bit too cheerfully.
I’d outdone myself with the meal: herb-crusted salmon, roasted vegetables, and a quinoa salad that had taken forever to get right. Mom and Dad made appropriate noises of appreciation as they ate.
“This is delicious, Jennifer,” Mom said, sounding genuinely impressed. “I didn’t know you could cook like this.”
I shrugged, tamping down the flare of resentment at her surprise. “I’ve picked up a few things over the years.”
The dinner progressed smoothly, almost pleasantly. I almost forgot why I’d invited them over in the first place. Then Dad started with one of his lectures about financial responsibility, and I knew it was time.
As I cleared the plates and brought out a fancy tiramisu for dessert, I steeled myself. This was it.
“So,” I said casually, setting down the dessert plates, “I hope you enjoyed the meal.”
They both nodded, smiling. “It was wonderful, dear,” Mom said.
I smiled back, but it didn’t reach my eyes. “Great. That’ll be $47.50 each, please.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Mom’s fork clattered against her plate, and Dad’s face went through a rapid series of emotions – confusion, disbelief, and then anger.
“I’m sorry, what?” he sputtered.
I kept my voice calm, channeling Dad’s tone from that night at the restaurant. “Well, you’re both adults. It’s time you started paying your own way.”
Mom’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. “But… but this is your home. You invited us.”
“Yes,” I said, my voice hardening slightly. “Just like you invited me to Le Petit Château. And then made me pay for my meal while covering everyone else’s.”
Understanding dawned on their faces, quickly followed by shame.
“Jennifer,” Dad started, his voice gruff. “That’s not… we didn’t mean…”
“Didn’t mean what?” I interrupted, years of pent-up frustration finally boiling over.
“Didn’t mean to make me feel like I’m worth less than Tina or Cameron? Didn’t mean to constantly overlook me? Or did you just not mean to get called out on it?”
Mom reached out, trying to take my hand, but I pulled away. “Sweetie, we had no idea you felt this way.”
I laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Of course you didn’t. Do you have any idea what it’s like to always be the afterthought in your own family?”
Dad shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
“We love you just as much as your siblings, Jennifer.”
“Do you?” I challenged. “Because it doesn’t feel like it. I’m just as successful as Tina, just as hardworking as Cameron. But somehow, I’m always the one who’s expected to ‘act like an adult’ while they get a free pass.”
The room fell silent again, but this time it was heavy with unspoken words and long-ignored feelings.
Finally, Dad cleared his throat. “We… we owe you an apology, Jennifer. A big one.”
Mom nodded, tears in her eyes. “We never meant to make you feel less valued. You’re our daughter, and we love you so much. We’ve just… we’ve done a terrible job of showing it.”
I felt my own eyes welling up, but I blinked back the tears. “I don’t want your apologies. I want you to do better. To be better. To see me.”
Dad stood up, his movements stiff. For a moment, I thought he was going to leave.
Instead, he walked around the table and hugged me. It was awkward and a little too tight, but it was more genuine than any interaction we’d had in years.
“We see you, Jennifer,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “And we’re so, so proud of you. We’ve been blind and stupid, and we’ve taken you for granted. But that ends now.”
Mom joined the hug, and for a minute, we just stood there, a tangle of arms and unshed tears and long-overdue honesty.
When we finally broke apart, Mom wiped her eyes and gave a watery chuckle. “So, about that bill…”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Tell you what. This one’s on the house. But next time we go out? We’re splitting the check evenly. All of us.”
Dad nodded solemnly. “Deal.”
As they left that night, things weren’t magically fixed. Years of feeling overlooked and undervalued don’t disappear in one conversation. But it was a start. A crack in the wall I’d built around myself, letting in a glimmer of hope.
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