
A greedy brother inherits a house and mocks his younger sister, who only gets five rusty old clocks from their late grandmother. Little did they know about what was hidden in those timepieces.
“Oh, so grandma called you as well?! I thought you’d be busy in the library…like a good little bookworm!” 26-year-old Brian scoffed at his younger sister Linda, 19.
She had just stepped down from the taxi. Fear filled her eyes as her heart told her: “Nothing will happen to grandma. She’ll be fine. She’ll live for a hundred years more.”
Brian and Linda had come to visit their 90-year-old granny Marlene. She had requested them to see her urgently.
“Sweethearts, I wish to see you one last time. I might not get another chance again,” Marlene had painfully told them on the call two days ago…
As Linda entered her grandma’s bedroom, she coughed, noticing that it was pretty dusty. Marlene was too old and sick to do things on her own. She hadn’t swept the floor, and Linda saw the ceiling was moldy due to leakage.
Linda opened the clock, and what she found inside would go on to change her life.
“Grandma!!” she ran and hugged Marlene, who was in bed. “Nothing will happen to you, grandma. Please don’t worry. God will not take you away from us because you are all that we have.”
Until a year ago, Linda lived with Marlene. She took good care of her and helped her a lot. She was even ready to turn down a life-changing scholarship but moved to the city to pursue her degree upon Marlene’s insistence.
Brian entered the room, coughing and grinning. “Damn…I’m allergic to dust! Grandma, didn’t you sweep and dust your room?”
He came closer and saw his grandma was sick and skinny. But he was least bothered and stood there, waiting to know why she had called them.
Marlene stared into Brian’s eyes as she clasped Linda’s shivering hands. The girl was pained to see her grandma so pale and her eyes lacking that once beautiful spark. They looked lifeless.
Marlene smiled, getting up gently, and took two envelopes from under her pillow. “Sweethearts, this is for you,” she said. “Please use it wisely. I called to give it to you.”
Brian and Linda opened the envelopes and found a wad of $5,000 in each.
Linda could not hold back her tears and ran out crying.
Meanwhile, Brian frowned. “Only this much? I thought you had more to spare. Fine, I have to go now.” He turned his back on Marlene and walked away without even thanking her.
The next day, Marlene was in for a surprise.
“Good morning, grandma!” Marlene heard Linda in her bedroom. She didn’t expect her to return.
She awakened as the girl undrew the curtains, shafts of beams lighting up the dark, dusty bedroom.
She was surprised to see Linda. She had thought the girl had left for the city where she studied and was a part-time librarian.
Linda walked over to Marlene with the envelope she had given her the previous day.
“I added the $4,000 I’d saved over the year. Grandma, remember you told me about your poor vision? I now have $9,000. We can now pay for your eye surgery.”
Marlene rose from her bed. She hugged Linda, tears streaking her face. “I knew you better, darling! But it’s too late for the surgery. I can sense my death nearing. I don’t want to waste this money when it can be used for something better.”
Linda wiped away Marlene’s tears and said she would live with her.
“I’ve taken a month off. I’m not going anywhere until I see that golden smile on your face, grandma.”
And Linda knew what she had to do to restore Marlene’s smile.
Having Linda around was of great help to Marlene. She didn’t have to worry about cooking for herself.
There were days when Marlene would eat stale bread for dinner when she never felt like making herself a nice meal. But after Linda came, she started feeling on her feet again. Marlene had never felt so relaxed and happy before.
One day, she heard strangers’ voices outside her bedroom and went out to check. She was surprised. Linda had spent the $9,000 on renovating the house and fixing the leakage.
“I knew you wanted to repair grandpa’s treasured house for a long time. Are you happy now, grandma?! I renovated it so that you see the beautiful house you once lived in with grandpa. Do you like it?”
Marlene was speechless. She walked to Linda as fast as her fragile legs could carry her and hugged her. Marlene had never cried like she wept on Linda’s shoulders that day.
Marlene often made a wish. “I want to die when I’m the happiest on earth!” A week later, her wish was fulfilled. Marlene died in her sleep, leaving Linda with more than a broken heart.
A couple of days after the funeral, Linda and Brian were called to the lawyer’s office regarding the late Marlene’s will they never knew about.
When they got there, they were told about another surprise inheritance.
“Mr. White, according to your grandma’s will, you’ll be getting her house. Here are the papers. Please sign them.”
Linda was startled. She was not jealous of her older brother, but it worried her because she had renovated the house, and Brian got it when he least deserved it.
“And Miss Linda, this is yours,” the lawyer said, pushing forward a box toward Linda.
“What is this?” she exclaimed and opened the box. She found five old vintage clocks inside. Brian burst into laughter and began mocking her.
“That’s hella insane and cheap!! Grandma left her house to me. She knew who deserved the best. You can decorate your rented apartment with these rusty clocks and cry over it, sis. Luck does not favor everyone!”
Distraught, Linda left for the city, taking the clocks with her. She never bothered to check them thoroughly until one day when she noticed an engraving on one of them.
“OPEN IT!” was etched in a beautiful cursive font on the metal.
Curious, Linda opened the clock, and what she found inside would go on to change her life.
“A note?” she exclaimed and picked a little scroll from the clock’s interior. She unfolded it and sat back, stunned.
“Never underestimate these rusty, old watches! They are 100-year-old classic timepieces that belonged to my grandfather. And they are crafted from rare, exquisite metal! Each piece is worth $40,000, my dear!” began the note.
Linda’s eyes filled with tears of joy as she read further.
“Everyone gets what they truly deserve, Linda! I’m glad you got only the best. With Love, Granny Marlene.”
Linda burst into tears as she held the vintage clocks close to her heart. They still functioned, and she could hear them tick close to her heartbeat. It felt as though her granny had not gone anywhere.
Linda chose not to disclose this to her brother.
“He is blinded by greed and thinks he got the best from grandma. Let him live with that assumption. Granny knew who deserved the best and I needn’t prove it to him!” she thought and kept the rare timepieces locked in her drawer.
What can we learn from the story?
Everyone gets what they truly deserve. Brian mocked Linda when she inherited only five old clocks from their grandmother. Little did he know that she had actually gotten what she truly deserved because each piece was worth over $40,000.
Love and accept your elders for who they are. You will be loved back a hundredfold. Linda loved her grandma unconditionally and cared for her without expecting anything in return. Ultimately, she inherited a surprise $200K worth of legacy after her granny’s death.
Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.
During my grandfather’s funeral, a stranger gave me a note — I couldn’t help but laugh after reading it because Grandpa had played a trick on us

At Grandpa’s funeral, 18-year-old Dahlia feels isolated as her family fumes over the pitiful $1 inheritance. But when a stranger slips her a secret note, Dahlia is pulled into a mystery only she can solve.
I stood by the graveside, hands clenched in the pockets of my too-small black dress, listening to the priest’s droning voice blend with the rustle of the wind.
This was the saddest day of my life, but everyone else in the family seemed more concerned with glaring at each other than mourning Grandpa.
I could feel their bitterness lingering in the chilly October air, thick like syrup. One dollar each. That’s all Grandpa left us in his will, and they were furious. But me? I wasn’t angry. Just… hollow.
Grandpa wasn’t supposed to be gone. He was the only person who ever saw me, not the mess-up or the spare kid nobody paid attention to, but me. He let me in when no one else cared.
I stared down at the flowers resting on his coffin. I’d brought him a red rose, and it stood out among the white daisies everyone else had placed on the casket.
“One dollar,” Aunt Nancy hissed from behind me. “One damn dollar! That man was loaded, and this is what we get?”
Uncle Vic let out a bitter laugh. “Right? I swear he did it on purpose, the spiteful old man.”
“Typical Dad,” Mom muttered, crossing her arms tight across her chest. “He always played favorites, and Dahlia here was his little pet. Bet she got something we don’t know about.”
Aunt Nancy’s eyes cut toward me, sharp as glass. “What did he leave you, Dahlia? Anything? Don’t act like you didn’t get something.”
I stiffened. “I got the same as all of you.”
Mom’s fingers tightened over my shoulder. “Are you sure?” she asked in a low voice. “You were always with him. Maybe he told you something… think hard, Dahlia. You owe it to your family to share whatever he gave you.”
Memories came rushing back of Grandpa’s goofy stories about long-lost treasure and the butterscotch candies he always kept in his coat pocket.
Sometimes, he’d wink at me and say, “One day, kiddo, I’m leaving you a treasure. Real treasure!” But it was just a game, a joke between us.
I shook my head and turned my gaze back to the coffin. “What Grandpa gave me was his love, his stories, and a place that felt more like home than my actual home. Those things were worth more than money, and there’s no way I can—”
“Nobody cares about any of that!” Mom snapped. “Think, girl! What happened to all of his money?”
I shrugged. I truly didn’t know the answer to her question and didn’t care. Grandpa was gone. He was my confidant, my safe place, my friend. I’d lost the most important person in the world, but all they cared about was slapping a price tag on his death.
“She knows something,” Vic muttered, loud enough for me to hear.
Their voices twisted together, accusing, scheming — like they could squeeze secrets out of me if they tried hard enough. But I had no secrets that could earn them more money.
The second they realized there’d be no fortune, they turned away from the grave and stormed off. I could still hear them bickering as they walked away, lashing out at each other like vultures. It made me sick.
“You must be Dahlia.”
I looked up to see a woman, maybe in her 60s, with kind eyes and a worn leather bag slung over her shoulder. Her smile was soft and secretive, like she knew something the rest of us didn’t.
“I was a friend of your grandpa’s,” she said, leaning in as if we were co-conspirators. “He asked me to give you this.”
Before I could respond, she slipped a folded piece of paper into my hand and whispered, “Don’t let anyone see it, especially your family.”
Her presence felt surreal, almost dreamlike, and before I could say anything, she was gone, swallowed by the crowd of mourners. My heart pounded in my chest as I unfolded the note.
111 locker — Southern Railway Station.
For a second, I stood frozen, the words blurring in front of me. Then it hit me: Grandpa’s “treasure.” A laugh bubbled up from my throat, inappropriate and wild, but I couldn’t help it. He wasn’t joking after all.
That night, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling. The note was tucked under my pillow like a secret. Grandpa’s voice echoed in my mind, playful yet certain: “Locker number 111… There’s treasure in there, kiddo!”
A weight settled on my chest, something between grief and hope. What if this wasn’t just some wild goose chase? What if Grandpa had really left something for me, hidden away where no one else could reach?
The thought twisted around in my mind until I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed to know what was in that locker.
I called a cab the next morning. It was the first thing I did after I woke up. As I tiptoed past the kitchen, I could hear Mom muttering on the phone about Grandpa’s will, probably trying to squeeze sympathy or cash out of anyone who would listen.
I clenched my jaw and slipped out the door, the chilly morning air hitting my skin like a slap.
The ride to Southern Railway Station felt like the longest 20 minutes of my life.
My knee bounced with nervous energy as the cab wound through narrow streets, past graffiti-covered walls, and empty coffee shops just starting to open. The driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror but didn’t say a word.
When we finally pulled up at the station, I stepped out and asked him to wait for me. I clutched the note tightly as I entered the train station.
The station smelled like diesel and stale popcorn. People rushed past me in every direction — commuters, travelers, strangers with places to go.
I hesitated at the entrance, suddenly feeling small and out of place. But then Grandpa’s voice floated back into my mind, steady and reassuring: “Real treasure, kiddo.”
I took a deep breath and headed toward the lockers and I could hear my heart pounding. Rows of metal boxes lined the wall, each one looking identical: gray, dented, and slightly rusty.
My eyes scanned the numbers until I found number 111.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out the folded note. The key was taped to the back. With trembling fingers, I peeled it off and slid it into the lock.
For a second, it jammed, and I panicked. But then — click! The lock turned, and the door swung open.
Inside was a duffel bag. It was old, faded, and heavy. My hands shook as I pulled it out and unzipped it.
The bag was full of cash. Bundles upon bundles of it!
I gasped, my mind reeling. It couldn’t be real, could it? I reached in and pulled out a stack, flipping through crisp hundred-dollar bills. There had to be at least $150,000 in there.
And tucked inside the bag was another note, written in Grandpa’s messy scrawl:
For my beloved granddaughter, everything I saved is now yours. Take it and live free, kiddo. The rest of the family may not see your worth, but I’ve always believed in you.
Tears blurred my vision, and I hugged the note to my chest, a knot forming in my throat. This wasn’t just money. It was freedom — a way out.
Grandpa always knew how badly I needed to escape this family. And now, he’d given me exactly what I needed and tricked everyone else in the process!
I zipped the bag shut, slung it over my shoulder, and walked out of the station, my heart pounding in tune with my footsteps.
The early morning sun was just starting to peek through the clouds, casting everything in a soft, golden light. For the first time in years, I felt… light.
During the cab ride back, I stared out the window, watching the city come to life. I had options now. No more suffocating family dinners, no more being ignored or treated like an afterthought, no more being the family scapegoat.
I could leave. I could build something new.
The thought scared me as much as it excited me, but Grandpa’s voice echoed in the back of my mind: “Live free, kiddo.”
As the cab pulled up to my house, I made my decision. I wasn’t staying. Not another minute!
I didn’t even bother going inside. I pulled out my phone, booked a ticket to anywhere, and told the driver to head straight to the airport.
With the duffel bag in my lap and Grandpa’s note tucked safely in my pocket, I smiled for the first time in days.
I was free. And for the first time in my life, I knew exactly what that meant.
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