A father worried about why his daughter often remained behind in the school bus after others left, so he decided to find answers. What he found was not what he expected.
Benjamin Bruce was a single dad who had to step in to become his child’s mother after she passed away. Their daughter, Emily, had been six when it happened.
Ben loved his daughter because, to him, she was all that was left of his beloved wife, and he had also promised her that Emily would be well taken care of no matter what.
To that end, Ben tried his best to juggle work while being present in his daughter’s life. He had no other family he trusted to look after her, so he had to do everything himself.
The first couple of years were rough on him as a parent, and just as he was acclimatizing to the rollercoaster, his daughter hit puberty, and at that point, things got wilder.
She suddenly started going through physical changes right before his eyes, and he knew what they meant — the boys would be coming for her. How could they not; his daughter had his late wife’s red hair and deep green eyes that seemed designed to mesmerize.
Even Ben was not immune to her eyes and had fallen prey to her will multiple times over the years. When she clocked 12, two years after she hit puberty, Emily discovered boys.
That led to her paying a lot of attention to her hair and appearance because she wanted to look good for her school crush. Ben was prepared to beat back boys with a stick if need be, but what he was not ready for was caring for his daughter’s looks.
Emily had to do that herself, but she was terrible at it with no role model to learn from. Ben often just cut her hair short as a child because he knew nothing about hair care, but he had to respect her wishes to keep her hair longer as she grew older.
There was little he would not do for his child, so to help her, he started brushing her hair when it was long enough. He was a big man, and even though he tried to be gentle, he occasionally pulled it out.
“Ouch!!!!” she yelled one day.
“I’m sorry baby,” he apologized quickly, as he always did.
“You need to be more gentle daddy,” she would admonish him sometimes.
Other times, she just endured the pain because she did not want to make her father feel terrible for causing it. Ben felt the sting of his failure each time his daughter complained of her hair getting pulled out, and that made him try to cut her hair again.
“Just get rid of it all,” he would say when they argued about it sometimes. “Your mom kept her hair cropped short and she still looked wonderful.”
“Daddy, I will no longer cut my hair, look how slow its growth is because of how often you cut it in the past,” she would shoot back. In any case, Ben never won the arguments, but he didn’t need to; they stopped coming up after a short while.
Shortly after that, he noticed that his daughter started getting tardy notices from her class teacher, Mrs. Flynn. So he called the woman to find out.
“That’s right, Mr. Bruce. Your daughter has five tardy notices this week alone. Is there anything going on I should know about?” the woman asked him.
“Nothing is going on. Things have been great at home for some time now and I do release her to join the bus early so I’m sure she makes it to school when others do,” he explained.
“Did you notice anything going on with her this past week?” Ben asked.
“Well, I was running late for class once and I saw her alight from the bus rather late even though she should have been in class by that time. The driver probably knows something about it because only they can access the bus at any time.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Flynn, I’ll get to the bottom of this,” Ben told her before ending the call.
Worried about why his daughter was spending extra time on a bus, Ben followed her the next day. True to what Mrs. Flynn told him, he noticed that everyone on the bus alighted when it arrived on the school grounds — everyone but his daughter.
As soon as he could, Ben burst into the bus in a rush thinking the worst but was instead met with the scene of a nice 40-year-old woman combing his daughter’s hair. The woman, Madeline, was the bus driver.
“Mr. Bruce?” the woman exclaimed at his sudden entry as Emily looked up, surprised to see her father.
“Dad? What are you doing here?”
“Hello ma’am,” Ben said after clearing his throat and righting himself. “Sorry about barging in, but I heard my daughter was getting tardy notices so I came to see why.”
“Oh, well in that case, here’s why,” the woman said, gesturing to his daughter’s hair. “I noticed how she seemed to struggle with her hair so I offered to help her brush it every day before she goes to class because she says her rough hair often makes her feel bad.”
“Honey,” Ben said to his daughter. “You never told me this.”
“I just didn’t want you to worry about it,” Emily defended.
Later that day, Ben invited Madeline for coffee. When the bus driver heard about what happened to his wife, she started to cry.
She herself was a cancer survivor, and she was well aware of how lucky she was to have pulled through and was grateful that she could still be there for her own children.
Madeline was convinced she survived for the kids on the bus who needed somebody to talk to or do their hair or whatever, so she begged Ben to find a compromise that would help his daughter.
To that end, Ben spoke to Mrs. Flynn, her teacher, and after explaining things to the woman, Emily was never given a tardy notice again. Ben was grateful to Madeline, and he remained close friends with her for a long time.
What did we learn from this story?
Never jump to conclusions. Ben gave himself a fright when he immediately assumed something sinful was happening between the bus driver and his child, and if he had not taken the pains to confirm it, things might have taken a terrible turn.
Give back when you can. Madeline believed he was spared from death to take care of other kids, and that was what she did. Caring for those kids was her way of giving back, and it left her feeling fulfilled, especially since she was able to touch lives like Emily’s and Ben’s.
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Impoverished Boy Assisted an Elderly Man in Achieving His Dream, Unaware His Own Life Would Transform the Following Day
I thought I was just going fishing with an old man I’d met by chance, but the letter I received months later revealed a secret that would leave me forever changed—and with a gift that would fulfill my wildest dreams.
Living in an old trailer wasn’t as bad as it sounds, or at least that’s what I told myself. It was just me and Mom. We’ve been on our own since Dad left when I was six. Honestly, I barely remember him, but Mom… well, she never says much about him. We don’t talk about it.
“Adam, can you grab the mail?” Mom would call out from the couch. Her legs were often propped up on a pillow, and she winced with every movement. She’d been in a car accident years ago, and her limp made standing or walking for long periods difficult. Still, she worked long shifts at the gas station just to keep us afloat.
“Sure, Mom,” I would reply grabbing my coat. I didn’t mind doing the little things to help. It made me feel like I was making a difference, even if it was just fetching mail or fixing dinner.
Most days after school, I would find something to do outside the trailer—anything to take my mind off things. But little did I know that at the age of 13, my life would change.
That day, I was tossing an old, deflated soccer ball at some bottles I’d set up like bowling pins. It wasn’t much, but it helped pass the time.
Then, out of nowhere, this shiny black SUV rolled up next to the trailer. The windows were tinted, and I stared at it for a second, wondering who on earth would come around here in something that fancy.
The door creaked open, and out stepped this old man, probably in his 70s or 80s, leaning on a cane but with a warm smile on his face. He waved.
“Hey there,” he said, slowly walking over. “Mind if I take a shot?” He pointed at the bottles I had lined up.
I blinked. “Uh, sure, I guess,” I said, not really sure what to make of him.
He chuckled. “Tell you what, let’s make it interesting. If I get a strike, I’ll ask you for a favor, and you can’t say no. But if I miss, I’ll hand you a hundred bucks. Deal?”
My eyes practically popped out of my head. A hundred bucks? I could almost hear the register in my brain ringing. “Deal,” I said quickly.
The man leaned down, picked up the deflated ball, and with a flick of his wrist, tossed it. The thing rolled straight into the bottles, knocking every last one down. I stood there, jaw dropped. No way.
The old man laughed, clearly pleased with himself. “Looks like I won,” he said. “Now, for that favor.”
I swallowed, curious. “What do you want me to do?”
“Come fishing with me tomorrow at the old pond,” he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Fishing?” I scratched my head. That was it? Seemed like a strange request, but definitely not as bad as I thought it would be. “Uh, okay, I guess. Let me just ask my mom.”
He smiled and nodded. “I’ll wait.”
I jogged back into the trailer, opening the door quietly. Mom was asleep on the couch, her chest rising and falling slowly. She’d had a long shift at the gas station the night before, and I didn’t want to wake her. I stood there for a moment, biting my lip.
“She won’t even know,” I muttered to myself. “I’ll be back before she notices.”
Decision made, I tiptoed back outside. “Alright, I’ll go,” I told the old man, hoping I wasn’t making a mistake.
“Great,” he said, smiling even wider. “We’ll meet tomorrow at dawn. Don’t be late.”
The next morning, the old man picked me up bright and early in his black SUV. We drove in silence at first, heading out of town. The place looked like no one had been there in years, the water was still, with tall grass growing around it. There wasn’t a single person in sight.
“Why here?” I asked, looking around as I grabbed the fishing rods he’d brought.
The old man smiled softly as he set up the gear. “This place… it means a lot to me,” he said, his voice quieter than usual.
We cast our lines into the water and sat side by side. We didn’t talk much for a while. But after about an hour, with no bites on the line, I couldn’t help but ask.
“So… why did you want to come here to fish?” I asked, curious.
The old man glanced at me, his smile tinged with sadness. “Years ago, I used to come here with my son. He was about your age then.” His voice softened even more.
“We were poor, just like you and your mother. Didn’t have much, but we always found time to come here. Funny thing is, we never caught a single fish, no matter how hard we tried.”
I looked at him. “Where’s your son now?”
He was quiet for a long moment, staring out at the water. I noticed his eyes filled with tears.
“He’s gone,” the old man finally said, his voice heavy. “He got sick. The doctors said he needed an urgent operation, but I didn’t have the money. I couldn’t save him.”
I felt my chest tighten. “I’m sorry.”
He shook his head, blinking back tears. “That’s when I promised myself I’d never be in that position again. I worked, I hustled, I built myself up so I’d never feel that helpless. But… I never had another child.”
I didn’t know what to say at first, but something inside me knew what he needed to hear. I stood up, walked over to him, and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Your son’s watching you from heaven,” I said softly. “And one day, he’ll see you catch that fish. You just can’t give up.”
He smiled at me, tears still in his eyes. “Thank you, Adam. You remind me so much of him.”
Just then, the float on one of our rods dipped suddenly into the water.
“Hey, the float!” I yelled.
The old man’s eyes widened, and we both grabbed the rod at the same time, pulling hard. But as we yanked, we both lost our balance, tumbling into the pond with a loud splash. I gasped as the cold water hit me, and the old man surfaced beside me, laughing like he hadn’t in years.
“Well, this is one way to catch a fish!” he cackled, struggling to hold onto the rod while I helped pull him up.
We finally managed to drag the rod back to shore, and to our surprise, attached to the end was the biggest fish I’d ever seen. The old man jumped to his feet, soaking wet but grinning like a kid.
“We did it!” he shouted, throwing his hands up in triumph. “We actually caught one!”
I couldn’t help but laugh, watching him dance around like he’d just won the lottery. We were soaked to the bone, but in that moment, it didn’t matter.
Later, he drove me back to the trailer. As we pulled up, he turned to me, his face soft and filled with gratitude.
“Thank you, Adam,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Today meant more to me than you’ll ever know.”
I smiled back. “Thanks for taking me fishing. It was fun.”
He reached out and patted my shoulder, a tear sliding down his cheek. “Take care, son. And don’t give up on those dreams.”
With that, he drove off, leaving me standing there with a strange warmth in my chest.
The next day, there was a knock on our trailer door. I opened it to see a man in a suit standing there, holding a package.
“Adam?” he asked.
“Yeah, that’s me,” I said, eyeing the man suspiciously.
“I’m Mr. Johnson, Mr. Thompson’s assistant. He asked me to deliver this to you,” he said, handing over the package.
I opened it right there on the spot and inside was more money than I’d ever seen in my life. My jaw dropped. “W-what is this for?”
Mr. Johnson smiled kindly. “It’s for you and your mother. Enough to move into a proper house, and for her medical care—rehabilitation, so she can walk without pain. There’s also a provision for private tutors to help you prepare for college. Your education, including one of the best colleges in the country, will be fully covered.”
I couldn’t believe it. My head spun as I tried to process what he was saying. “But… why?”
“Mr. Thompson was very moved by you, Adam. He sees a lot of his own son in you. This is his way of saying thank you.”
Tears filled my eyes. I couldn’t speak, so I just nodded, overwhelmed by the kindness of a man who had once been a stranger but had now changed our lives forever.
Several months passed since that fishing trip. One afternoon, I came home to find a letter on the table, addressed to me. I recognized the handwriting instantly. My hands shook as I opened it.
“If you’re reading this,” the letter began, “then I’m already watching you from heaven with my son.”
I stopped, swallowing hard, and read on.
“The day after we went fishing, I had heart surgery. I didn’t survive, but that’s okay. Meeting you gave me more peace than I ever thought possible. You reminded me of my son and showed me there’s still joy in life, even after loss.
I’ve left you everything you need to succeed. Remember what you told me that day by the pond? You’ll catch that fish too—just don’t give up, right?”
I wiped a tear from my cheek, staring at the words. I could almost hear his voice again, and see him smiling next to me by the water.
Fifteen years later, I stood on the porch of the house I built for Mom, watching her laugh with my kids in the yard.
“You never gave up, Adam,” she said, catching my eye with a smile. “He’d be proud.”
“I think about him a lot,” I admitted, my voice soft. “I hope I’ve made him proud.”
“You have,” she said gently. “He gave you everything, and look at you now.”
I smiled, glancing at my own home next door. “It wasn’t just the money, Mom. It was the reminder to never give up. I’ll carry that with me forever.”
She squeezed my hand. “And he’s watching. I know it.”
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