I hope you come back and visit us once you’re done with university,” his foster dad Chase told him. Chuck blew out his candles and made a wish. They enjoyed one last meal together before he was off to college.
“Oh, sweetheart,” his mom sighed. “I can still remember the day we got you and took you home. I can’t believe you’re all grown up and going to college,” she said, tears forming in her eyes.
“I know, mom. I am the luckiest boy. I am so thankful that you took me in.
Without you, I am nothing,” Chuck said, holding his mom’s hand. “Thank you for all the love and care you gave me.”
At this point, Ivan had enough. “Oh, please,” he rolled his eyes.
“Can we just eat in silence? Your sentimentality is making me sick!”
Instead of fighting back, Chuck smiled. “I know you’ll enjoy not having me around anymore, Ivan, but I’ll miss you too.”
That night, Chuck couldn’t sleep in excitement.
His bags were all packed and he was ready to take the bus to the university the following day. “It’s time to go, honey,” his mom called out to him the next morning. Chuck looked around his room one last time, knowing it was the last time he would be seeing it in a long time.
He embraced his parents one last time before heading out the door. “I’m on my own now,” he said. “You gave me all I needed, and I’m sorry if I was an added burden to you because of that.
I promise I’ll do my best to become a successful person. I will come back and repay you for all you’ve done!”
It was Chuck’s personal decision to leave the foster care system once he was able. Although he loved his parents dearly, he chose not to get adopted legally to save his parents the money it would cost.
After all, knowing they loved him was more than enough for him. Chuck really did his best in school, keeping his promise. He studied law and was motivated to become a good lawyer after he graduated.
After passing the bar, he started working for a top law firm. From being just an associate, he rose up the ranks until he became a partner in the firm. Ultimately, he lost touch with his parents.
While they wrote to each other in the beginning, his work made it less possible, until their communication stopped entirely. It had been ten years since he last saw his foster parents. Chuck had a client in the city where he grew up, so he decided to drop in on his old home.
He realized it was about time he visited his foster parents, so he took a day off to spend time with them. But what greeted him there was totally unexpected. Apart from an unkempt lawn, you could hardly see the white paint on the walls which had been entirely covered in vines.
As he walked towards the front door, he even wondered if anyone still lived there. Chuck rang the doorbell, but it was no longer working. He was about to turn back thinking no one lived there anymore until he heard a voice from inside.
He decided to knock. After a couple of seconds, his foster dad opened the door. “Chuck?” he called out.
“Is that you?”
“Dad,” he said, embracing him tightly. “What happened here?! Are you alright?
Where’s mom and Ivan?” he asked. He had so many questions running through his head, and he wanted answers. “Come in, son.
I can’t believe you made it home. How long has it been? 10 years?” he said, bringing his adoptive son inside the house.
“Honey, it’s Chuck! Chuck is home!” he called out to his wife. As soon as his mom came out of the kitchen, Chuck’s heart sank.
She was no longer the healthy woman he once knew. She looked frail as if she hadn’t eaten properly in weeks. “Mom!” he cried out.
“What happened?”
“Ivan told us he was starting a business about five years ago. We were so happy because even though he didn’t want to go to college, we thought he had found a direction in life. It turns out, he just wanted us to give him money so he could do whatever he wanted,” his dad shared.
“He promised he would give us a share of his earnings, but that never happened. Because of him, we’re in debt,” his mom added with tears in her eyes. “We didn’t think we would ever see you again, sweetheart.
I am so glad you visited,” she said, embracing Chuck again. Chuck could not believe what his parents had gone through at the hands of his brother. He took them out to dinner, and when they got home, promised to be back the following day.
The next day, he returned and told them that they had nothing to worry about anymore. “I paid off the loan and any legal damages it incurred. I also hired someone to repair the house.
I would also like to give you this,” he said, handing them a passbook. “Chuck!” his mom cried. “You didn’t have to do any of this.
It’s too much. We didn’t raise you thinking you’d ever pay us back,” she told him. “I never saw you and Ivan differently,” his dad added.
“To me, you were both my sons. But now, I can’t believe that it’s you who genuinely loves and cares for us. And Ivan left us for dead.”
Chuck shook his head.
“I owe you both so much more than just money,” he replied. “You gave me a home – a family. Money is nothing to me.
Family is everything! I love you both and will take care of you for the rest of my life,” he promised. What can we learn from this story?
Share this story with your friends.
It might brighten their day and inspire them.
I never thought I’d be sitting on concrete with a cardboard sign while my kids tried to stay warm beside me. But here we are.
I’ve stopped trying to explain it to people who pass by. Most don’t stop anyway. It all started after the plant I worked at shut down.
They gave us two weeks’ notice. Two. I tried to find something else, anything—even night shifts, warehouse gigs, delivery driving—but with no childcare and no savings, it snowballed fast.
We stayed in a motel for a bit. When that got too expensive, we slept in the car. Then the car got towed because I couldn’t pay the tags.
After that, we found this alley behind the strip mall. It’s mostly quiet at night. Sometimes the donut shop owner lets us use the restroom if he’s in a good mood.
The dog? That’s Benny. He showed up one night and hasn’t left since.
The kids adore him, and I think he gives them a weird kind of hope. Something to smile about. I almost gave him away to a shelter last week just so he wouldn’t have to go through this with us, but my daughter sobbed so hard, I couldn’t go through with it.
I keep telling myself this is temporary. I’ve been doing day labor, grabbing whatever cash gigs I can. Some days it’s enough for a meal.
Other days, nothing. The worst part isn’t even the hunger or the cold—it’s the way people look at my kids, like they’re broken already. Then, two nights ago, something strange happened.
A woman in a silver Lexus pulled up, rolled down her window, and said just four words that haven’t left my mind since. “You need a break.”
She didn’t introduce herself. She didn’t ask questions.
She just popped her trunk and handed me three grocery bags—fruit, bread, a couple of blankets, and even dog food for Benny. Then she was gone. No name, no number.
Just those words: You need a break.
I don’t know why it hit me so hard, but I stood there staring at those bags like they were treasure. The kids ripped into the apples like they were candy, and Benny practically danced when he saw the kibble. For the first time in weeks, we had full bellies and warm blankets.
The next morning, I found something else in one of the bags—a note folded into a small square. It simply said:
That’s it. No explanation.
I debated for hours whether to go. Could be a setup, could be nothing. But something about it felt…different.
So I packed up the kids and we walked the 11 blocks to that old hardware store with faded red letters. When I asked for Manny, a guy in his late 60s with a thick mustache looked me up and down, nodded slowly, and said, “You’re the one she told me about.”
I had no idea who “she” was. But he handed me a set of keys and said, “There’s a small room above the shop.
You and your kids can stay there for a while. Bathroom’s down the hall. Nothing fancy, but it’s warm.”
I just stared at him.
He added, “She paid for a month. Said if you wanted to work, I could use help organizing inventory. Paid under the table, 10 bucks an hour.”
I didn’t even realize I was crying until my son tugged on my sleeve and whispered, “Mom, are we getting a home?”
We moved in that night.
The room was tiny—two mattresses on the floor, a small table, a heater that made weird noises—but it was a palace compared to the alley. For the first time in weeks, the kids slept through the night. I worked with Manny every day.
Sweeping, lifting boxes, organizing dusty shelves. Hard work, but steady. Manny didn’t talk much, but he always had lunch ready—usually two sandwiches, one for me, one for whichever kid was tagging along.
Two weeks in, a young woman came into the store. She was looking for paint, but when she saw me behind the counter, she paused. “Are you the mom from behind the strip mall?” she asked gently.
I hesitated, then nodded. She smiled. “My aunt was the one who found you.
She’s not much of a talker, but she never forgets a face.”
She handed me a card—white with gold lettering. It was for a local nonprofit that helped single parents find housing and job placement. I called them the next day.
Fast forward three months. We now live in a small apartment in a subsidized housing complex. It’s not glamorous, but it has a door that locks, beds for everyone, and even a little balcony where Benny likes to sunbathe.
The kids go to school again. I work part-time at the hardware store and take night classes for certification in medical billing—something stable, something I can do long-term. Last week, I got my first tax refund in years.
Not much, but enough to feel proud. I took the kids to the park, and we got ice cream. Watching them laugh without that weight in their eyes?
Priceless. Here’s the twist. Two days ago, a woman knocked on our door.
Middle-aged, kind eyes, familiar Lexus parked out front. It was her.
She didn’t say much—just smiled and said, “I knew you’d make it.”
I offered to pay her back. She refused.
“You already did,” she said. “You reminded me that sometimes, we all just need one person to believe in us.”
Then she handed me a second note and said, “If you ever see someone who needs a break—pass it on.”
So I will.
Because no matter how far we fall, there’s always someone who can lend a hand. And sometimes that someone… is you.
If you read this far, thank you.
I wrote this not for pity, but for perspective. Life can change fast—for better or worse. If you ever see someone who’s struggling, even a kind word or a sandwich can mean more than you know.
And if you’re the one struggling: don’t give up. Your break might be just around the corner. Share this if it moved you.
Like it if you believe in second chances.
Attending a Lowdnes High School football game in Valdosta, Star Balloon-Bradley and her nephew Isaiah approached a stranger. Isaiah walked up to a woman during our last home game two weeks ago. He spent almost twenty minutes chatting like old friends while seated on her lap.
Bradley said the woman had left the game during halftime. Two weeks later, though, Isaiah observed the same woman attending another football game. Isaiah joyfully moved towards the woman, then curled up on her lap and laid his head on her shoulder.
To Isaiah, the woman was quite friendly. She rubbed and rocked him till he nodded off, as a mother would have done. That was a quite touching scene!
Miller and Bradley questioned a woman whether Isaiah was causing any disturbance. The woman answered that there was no problem that Isaiah was her new friend. The woman said she only has one child, fifteen years old, and values like this very highly.
Such images of racial tensions are fantastic since they show that many of us do not give much thought to skin colour. On Facebook, Bradley uploaded two adorable photos of a pleasant meeting. She has got 241,000 shares and nearly 742,000 likes on her article.
Bradley looked for and identified the woman he referred to as “Mrs Angela” via social media. Following the Facebook popular post, Mrs. Angela said, “To God be all praise, glory, and honour!
Reading the post Star Balloon-Bradley has caused me to be overcome with feelings today. The lovely comments everyone has made humble me. Isaiah is so lovely!
I pray that people would see Jesus in all this and understand His love is unbounded and that is how I want to love and live my life. He undoubtedly is worthy, but I am not!
