On one particularly cold day, Forester Stephen was sitting in his house enjoying a cup of tea when an unfamiliar noise caught his attention. It came from under his fence and had the unmistakable growl of a wild animal.
Curious and concerned, Stephen went outside to investigate. After a moment’s thought, he decided to bring out some frozen meat, realising that the harsh cold was making it difficult for wildlife to find food. He knew this was particularly difficult for both the animals and local families.
The wild animal’s behavior seemed strange to Stephen. Wolves usually stay in their own territory and rarely venture into human settlements unless they are driven by extreme hunger.
Soon the she-wolf began to appear frequently at Stephen’s home. The locals became increasingly agitated and criticized Stephen for his actions. They were worried about the presence of a wolf so close to the village and left their children in the safety of their homes.
Despite growing pressure from his neighbors, Stephen ignored her complaints and continued to feed the wolf, realizing that a hungry wolf could pose a greater threat to everyone.
As winter ended, the wolf’s visits stopped, much to the relief of the villagers. But Stephen missed her presence, as he had become accustomed to her visits.
Spring arrived, bringing with it the familiar howling. Stephen rushed outside to find an unexpected sight: the she-wolf had brought her two pups with her. The animals watched him quietly, and it dawned on Stephen that the meat he had provided all winter was being used to feed their young.
With the arrival of spring, the wolf pack prepared to move to a new territory to ensure that they would no longer cause trouble to the villagers. The she-wolf said goodbye to Stephen in silence and from that moment on, no more wolves were seen in the area.
If you enjoyed this story, please share it with your friends and family!
My Stepdaughter Insisted I Reassign All Her Deceased Father’s Possessions into Her Name – I Complied, Yet She Was Unpleased
The emptiness of George’s departure permeates their residence, his presence enduring in the shirt Mariana grips nightly. However, it wasn’t his passing that devastated her… it was her stepdaughter Susan’s insistence on inheriting his wealth. When she reluctantly agreed, an unexpected twist left Susan enraged and Mariana strangely content.
Progressing past the death of a dear one is always challenging. At times, I still sense my husband George’s voice echoing in my mind. I awaken holding his cherished shirt, his fragrance still clinging to the material. Yet, as I mourned him, my stepdaughter’s actions… they utterly broke me…
I am Mariana, aged 57, wed to the kindest man, George, for 25 years. He had a daughter, Susan, aged 34, from an earlier marriage.
Our bond with Susan was once good. She addressed me as “Mom” and filled the gap in my heart from not bearing my own children. I never viewed her as “another’s” child. I cherished her as my own daughter, truly.
When Susan wed her chosen partner, George and I were thrilled. But then, everything deteriorated when George received a terminal cancer diagnosis.
Susan’s visits reduced from weekly to monthly, then ceased entirely. She seldom visited her father, occasionally phoning to inquire about his health.
One day, she posed a question that tore me apart. “How long does he have left?”
Clutching the phone tightly, my voice shook. “Susan, your father isn’t an item with an expiration date.”
“I just need to know, Mom. I’m swamped, you know that… I can’t come by often,” she responded.
“Swamped?” I repeated, my tone filled with disbelief. “Too swamped to visit your dying father?”
She exhaled deeply. “Look, I’ll attempt to come soon, okay?”
But that “soon” never materialized.
Then, the dreaded day arrived. The hospital informed me that George had passed away peacefully.
I was devastated, barely able to stand as the reality sank in. My beloved George, gone.
Shockingly, Susan didn’t attend his funeral. When I called her, she promptly excused herself.
“I’m expecting, Mom,” she stated, her tone strangely indifferent. “The doctors advised against lengthy travel due to some medical concerns.”
I swallowed hard, holding back tears. “But Susan, it’s your father’s funeral. Don’t you wish to bid him farewell one last time?”
“I can’t jeopardize my baby’s health,” she curtly replied. “You understand, right?”
I didn’t, not truly, but I nodded silently, forgetting she couldn’t see me. “Of course, dear. Take care.”
As I sat near my husband’s coffin, I couldn’t dismiss the notion that our relationship had irrevocably changed.
Six months post-George’s death, I was startled by a loud knock at my door. Opening it, I saw Susan and her husband Doug, along with a severe-looking man in a suit.
Susan entered without greeting. “Mom, we need your signature on some documents.”
Baffled, I blinked. “Which documents?”
Doug handed me a stack of papers, including a blank sheet. “Just sign these. They’re for transferring all the properties into our names.”
Leave a Reply