A homeless and poor Brandon offers his last $2 to an elderly man in need at the gas station store and inherits his company the next day. Brandon thinks this is the start of a new life for his family.
Brandon clutched his paper cup with change as he shuffled into the gas station store. He was near an aisle when a loud voice distracted him. He saw a queue of angry shoppers waiting behind an elderly man who had difficulty hearing.
“I’m sorry, what did you say about the water being funny?” the elderly man asked the cashier.
“Money!” she groaned. “I said you don’t have enough money, sir!”
“Yes, it was a sunny day!” replied the man with a frown.
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“You need more cash! For the water!” A younger guy standing behind the man grabbed him by the shoulder and yelled into his ears.
Brandon noticed everything. He was tempted to step in, but he didn’t want to attract the shoppers’ ire. Meanwhile, the elderly man explained he didn’t have enough cash, asking if he could get a smaller bottle of water as he needed to take his pills.
“If you can’t afford to pay, you’ll have to go!” shouted the cashier.
“I can go?” He smiled and turned to leave, but the cashier snatched the water bottle from his hand. “Just get out, old man!” she hissed. “You’re way too much trouble!”
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The elderly man requested that he needed to take his pills, but his pleas fell on deaf ears.
Brandon had had enough. He marched to the cashier and offered to pay for the old guy.
“Have a heart, lady,” he said and emptied his cup on the counter. The woman looked at him in distaste before she counted the money.
“That’ll cover it,” she said, taking all the money, including his last $2. “Now step aside. You’re holding the line.”
Brandon abandoned his can of beans on the counter as he offered the water to the older man.
“Here you go, sir. I got you water,” he spoke slowly and clearly, ensuring the man could see his face if he needed to lip-read. And the man thanked him. They left the store together, and Brandon headed to his tent on the bare patch of ground adjacent to the station, but the man stopped him.
“Wait!”
Brandon turned around.
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“Why did you help me when you obviously needed the money?” asked the older man.
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned from being homeless, sir,” said Brandon, “it’s that the world works when people are kind to each other.”
“But what are your kids going to eat? You left the beans on the counter.”
“We have the last of yesterday’s bread,” Brandon replied. “We’ll get by.”
The man walked away but with a frown. Brandon noticed he got in a gleaming SUV and wondered why a man like him couldn’t afford a bottle of water.
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The next day, while Brandon was dividing cold fries among his kids, a silver sedan pulled up near his tent. A man in a fancy suit approached.
“Morning, sir. Mr. Grives’s last wish was for me to deliver this to you,” he said, extending an envelope.
Brandon wiped his hands and took it. There was a letter inside.
“Dear sir,
Yesterday, you proved yourself to be a man of good character when you spent your last few dollars for me. Your kindness and belief in doing good for others have inspired me to repay your goodness with the greatest gift I can give you: my business.
My time in this world is coming to an end. I have recently become apprehensive about leaving my company to my son, as I’ve come to see that he is a selfish man with a heart of stone. It would greatly ease my conscience if you inherited the company instead. All I ask is that you ensure my son is taken care of and can continue to live a safe, comfortable life.”
“Is this a joke?” Brandon looked up at the man.
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The man produced a stack of printed papers and a pen. “Mr. Grives was quite serious. And the moment you sign these papers, it’ll be official.”
“But I just met the guy yesterday. And now he’s dead and leaving me everything?” Brandon asked as he studied the documents.
“I understand your concerns, sir, but these papers were drawn by the finest lawyers. All we need to do is fill in your name, and the lawyers will proceed with the rest.”
This was his chance to provide his kids, so Brandon signed it. Then, the man drove him and the children to their new home.
As they arrived, Brandon stared up at the massive mansion.
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Brandon could barely believe it himself. But the moment he pushed the double doors open, he sensed something was wrong. The house was a mess—a table lay on its side in the hallway, and a closet had been toppled over.
Brandon dumped the luggage, ran after the car, and told the driver to call 911. A few hours later, he stood among slashed sofas and broken furniture, speaking to the cops.
“We’ve examined the entire house and found no sign of forced entry, sir,” the officer said. “This, combined with the fact that the security system appears to have been overridden using the correct code, suggests that whoever vandalized this place had a legitimate means of gaining entry.”
“Like a key? So, the person who did this just walked in here?”
“I’d suggest you change the locks, sir,” the officer nodded.
As the cops left, Brandon suspected the elderly man’s son.
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The next day, Mr. Grives’s secretary arrived early. She took Brandon shopping and got him cleaned up at a barber before taking him to the company. In the office that once belonged to Mr. Grives, Brandon was about to go through the files on the computer when the doors burst open.
“You must be Brandon!” A middle-aged man in a dark suit entered the office. “I’m Christopher, one of Mr. Grives’s former business partners, and I’m here to save you from a whole heap of trouble.”
“I’m sorry?” Brandon asked.
Christopher explained he handled the sales for one of Mr. Grives’s ‘specific’ businesses. Brandon quickly understood it was something illegal. He refused to continue it, but Christopher was having none of it.
“Listen up, you moron! Grives owed me $2 million for handling the illicit side of his business! You’re now responsible for that,” he snarled. “And if you don’t pay up, I’ll go to the police and tell them everything. Furthermore, as the company’s owner, you will be liable for all damages. So, I’ll be expecting my $2 million by Saturday.”
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“What? This is extortion! You can’t be serious!” Brandon retorted.
“Yes, it is. And just in case you think I’m not deadly serious…” Christopher pushed back his suit jacket and placed his hand on the butt of a gun holstered at his side. “…rest assured that if you cross me, Brandon, I’ll make you disappear.”
Brandon said nothing and agreed to Christopher’s demands. But he wondered if Christopher was scamming him. So Brandon searched for any hints of this illicit side of the business.
By that evening, after reviewing the data from all the other departments, Brandon was convinced Christopher was lying. But then, he noticed the filing cabinet tucked into a corner of the room. Brandon unlocked it with the keys he’d found earlier on his desk. And the first thing he noticed was an old-fashioned file box tucked into the drawer.
Inside it was a ledger with entries written in some kind of shorthand, and Brandon realized Christopher wasn’t lying. In despair, he opened a drawer to find some bottles of scotch handy, and found nothing but a photo.
It showed Mr. Grives standing with…a younger guy. Brandon’s eyes bulged in horror when he realized how similar they looked. The young man was Christopher, Mr. Grives’s son!
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Things started making sense to Brandon. He couldn’t believe a kind man like Mr. Grives would be involved in illegal business practices. So, most likely, Christopher was using his own shady dealing to blackmail him, Brandon reasoned.
A stroke of luck and a terrible twist that threatened to take it all away – everything was happening way too fast. Luckily, Brandon was not unfamiliar with the whirlwinds of the business world.
That Saturday, Brandon met Christopher in the underground parking lot but with a counteroffer.
“I’ve got to keep my word to your old man,” Brandon said, “so I’ll give you 49 percent of the company while I keep the remaining 51 percent. That’ll be enough for you to live lavishly, right? And I’ll reserve the right to manage the company like your father wanted.”
But Christopher refused. “I’m not a fool! I deserved all of it, not some token! Let’s talk when you come to your senses!” he hissed and left.
Brandon went back to the office. He decided to pay Christopher his $2 million and be done with this but found the company’s money was tied up in assets or allocated to monthly expenses. Brandon was helpless.
He returned home, dejected, where another trouble awaited him. As he opened the front door, he found his kids’ nanny tied to a chair and gagged.
“He took the kids! He said to tell you that this should be your wake-up call!” she cried as he freed her, and Brandon knew who she was talking about.
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Brandon called Christopher and agreed to hand over the company, begging him not to hurt the children. They decided to meet at noon. But Brandon also called the police, and in the next half an hour, he was sitting with an FBI agent.
“Just follow my instructions, and we’ll have your kids back…” Agent Bates assured him.
That noon, Christopher was chilling by the poolside of a hotel he’d rented out. He’d locked Brandon’s kids in a closet and dismissed all hotel staff except the manager, whom he had paid handsomely.
“Excuse me, sir,” the manager interrupted him. “You have a package.”
When Christopher checked the envelope, he grinned. He strode to his room and signed the paperwork he found inside the envelope. The company was finally his! Then, he freed Brandon’s children. “I’m sure a bunch of ragamuffins like you four can find your way. Now, get lost!”
]Christopher finished getting ready. Suddenly, he heard a click behind him. Although soft, Christopher instantly recognized the sound of a gun’s safety selector.
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“FBI! Put your hands in the air! You’re under arrest.”
Meanwhile, Brandon held his children close on the sidewalk. Thanks to Agent Bates’s idea of putting a tracker in the documents, Christopher was caught.
Brandon took the children home, ready to make everything right. And when the FBI’s fraud division showed up with a warrant, he handed over the evidence—the copy of the company’s records and the ledger he’d found in his office—to the agents, knowing that by the time the investigation was over, he wouldn’t have a penny to his name. But he’d be free.
“Daddy, are we going to leave our home…just when Mommy died?” Kelly asked him.
Brandon got down on one knee and hugged his kids.
“Listen, you four, we’re going to be okay. You want to know why?”
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Kids looked at him earnestly and nodded.
“It’s because the most valuable thing we have is right here, in my arms. So long as we stick together, we’ll always be rich in the most important way: love.”
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Simple Man Learns Everyone at Career Day Thinks He’s Rich & Decides to Play Along – Story of the Day
For Will, Career Day was a chance to spend more time with his son Kevin and strengthen their bond. However, when he arrived at the school, he realized his son was ashamed of him. Will’s honest work as a garbage truck driver wasn’t enough for Kevin, so he decided to play along with his son’s lie.
Late in the evening, the sound of the front door creaking open echoed through the quiet house. Will stepped inside, his shoulders slumped and his boots dragging slightly on the floor. His face was smudged with dirt, and the faint scent of oil and metal lingered on his clothes.
Leslie, sitting on the couch with a folded laundry basket beside her, looked up as he entered. She set the basket aside and walked over, her expression calm but tired.
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“You’re late again…” she said softly, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face.
Will sighed and dropped his work bag near the door.
“I know… sorry. One of the garbage trucks broke down, so I had to cover their route. Couldn’t leave it undone, and—well, you know—we could use the extra money.”
Leslie nodded, folding her arms.
“I understand. But I’m worried about Kevin…”
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Will straightened slightly. “What’s wrong? Did something happen at school?”
“No, school’s fine,” she replied, shaking her head. “But he barely sees you anymore. You’re working so much, and I’m not sure he understands why.”
Will’s expression softened. “I’ll talk to him. Don’t worry, Les. Everything I do, I do for his future.”
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Leslie smiled gently, placing a hand on his arm. “I know, dear. I know.”
Will knocked gently on Kevin’s door, letting his knuckles barely tap against the wood.
The house was quiet, except for the faint hum of the heater. He pushed the door open slowly, peeking in with a playful grin despite the heavy bags under his eyes.
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“Hey, kiddo! How are you?” he asked, his voice soft but warm.
Kevin sat cross-legged on his bed, a book in his hands, though it didn’t look like he was reading it.
“Hi, Dad. I’m fine,” he said without looking up.
“Not asleep yet? Got a few minutes to chat?” Will stepped inside, his voice teasing but gentle.
“Sure…” Kevin set the book down reluctantly and glanced at his father.
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Will sat down on the edge of the bed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.
“How’s school? Everything going okay? No fights with your classmates or anything?”
Kevin shrugged. “Yeah, it’s fine.”
Will raised an eyebrow. “That’s it? Fine? Come on, you can give me more than that.”
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Kevin smirked a little but stayed quiet.
“Oh!” Will said, sitting up straighter. “I almost forgot—tomorrow’s Career Day at your school! I’ll take the day off to come. Don’t worry, I won’t miss it.”
Kevin’s face fell slightly, and he looked away.
“You don’t have to, Dad…” he said softly.
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Will tilted his head, watching his son carefully.
“I want to,” he said firmly. “Don’t worry about it. For you, I’ll always make time. Now get some rest, buddy. Tomorrow’s a big day.”
Kevin hesitated, then mumbled, “Goodnight.” He turned onto his side, facing the wall.
Will reached out, lightly ruffling Kevin’s hair before standing.
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He paused at the door, glancing back at his son with a faint smile, then quietly closed the door behind him.
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the windshield as Will drove Kevin to school. Will had traded his usual work uniform for a navy suit and tie, a combination that felt unfamiliar and stiff.
Kevin sat silently in the passenger seat, his face turned toward the window. His fingers fidgeted with the strap of his backpack, and his usual chatter was replaced by a heavy quietness.
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Will glanced at him, the silence too loud to ignore. “What’s wrong, kiddo?” he asked, keeping his tone light.
Kevin shrugged but didn’t turn away from the window.
“I don’t feel well. I don’t want to go to school today,” he muttered.
Will frowned, his eyes darting between the road and his son.
“Come on, you’re fine. Are you nervous about something?”
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“No…” Kevin replied softly, his voice trailing off.
Will didn’t push.
“Don’t worry. It’ll be okay,” he said, though he couldn’t help but wonder if Kevin was hiding something.
When they arrived at the school, Kevin hesitated before opening the door.
Will waited, his hand resting on the gear shift, watching his son wrestle with some unspoken emotion.
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Finally, Kevin sighed, pushed open the door, and got out. Will followed, his concern lingering like a shadow.
Inside the classroom, rows of parents sat in folding chairs at the back while the children clustered together at their desks.
Will found a seat, adjusting his tie as he scanned the room. The atmosphere buzzed with chatter and excitement.
A tall man in an expensive suit approached Will, offering a polished smile. “You must be Kevin’s dad, right?”
Will nodded. “Yes. How’d you know?”
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“Our boys are friends. Your son talks a lot about you and your work,” the man said, crossing his arms.
“Really?” Will said, eyebrows rising. “I didn’t think he was that interested in what I do.”
The man chuckled. “Well, he’s proud of you. Told everyone you own a waste recycling business.”
Will froze. “A recycling business?” he repeated, the words sticking in his throat.
“Yeah! Or did I get that wrong?” The man tilted his head. “Kids exaggerate sometimes. You know how it is.”
Will’s stomach tightened. He wasn’t a business owner—he drove a garbage truck. Admitting that now would mean exposing Kevin’s lie.
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The image of his son’s anxious face flashed through his mind, and the thought of Kevin being humiliated in front of his peers was too much to bear.
“Yeah,” Will said finally, forcing a smile. “I’m not used to people knowing about it. I usually keep work stuff private.”
The man nodded, seemingly satisfied, and walked away.
Will’s chest felt heavy, but he tried to shake it off as the teacher stepped to the front of the room.
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“Next, let’s hear from Kevin’s dad,” she announced, motioning for him to come forward.
Will stood, smoothing his suit nervously as he walked to the front. He glanced at Kevin, who sat stiffly, staring at his desk.
“Hello, everyone. I’m Will, Kevin’s dad. As some of you already know, I own a waste recycling business,” he said, his voice steady despite the knot in his stomach.
Kevin’s head shot up, his eyes wide with relief. A small smile crept across his face as he looked at his father.
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The children leaned forward, listening intently, and the parents nodded approvingly—all except the man in the expensive suit, whose expression soured.
Will smiled through it, feeling a mixture of pride and sadness. For now, he had protected Kevin, and that was what mattered most.
After the presentations, the classroom was abuzz with chatter. Kevin stood near his desk, surrounded by a group of classmates. They grinned and chattered excitedly.
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“Your dad’s job is so cool!” one kid said.
“Yeah, owning a recycling business? That’s awesome,” another added.
Kevin smiled faintly, but his eyes kept darting toward the back of the room.
Will sat alone on a bench, his hands resting on his knees, staring at the floor. Something about his posture—a mix of exhaustion and quiet sadness—made Kevin’s chest feel tight.
Excusing himself from the group, Kevin walked over to his dad. He hesitated for a moment before speaking.
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“Dad… about your job…” Kevin’s voice was soft, almost unsure.
Will looked up, his tired eyes meeting his son’s.
“It’s okay, son,” he said gently. “I hope everything went better than you expected. I didn’t want to embarrass you in front of your friends. I’m sorry my job isn’t… prestigious. I really try my best.”
Kevin shook his head quickly. “Dad… your job is awesome. You’re awesome.”
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Will raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a faint, skeptical smile. “Then why did you tell everyone I’m a business owner?”
Kevin looked down, fidgeting with the strap of his backpack.
“It was Rob,” he admitted quietly.
“He’s always bragging about his dad selling cars and how much money he makes. I… I lied. I said you owned a recycling business. Then everyone started talking about it, and I didn’t know how to take it back. I didn’t want to look stupid.”
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Will nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful.
“It’s okay, son. I understand,” he said after a moment. “And who knows? Maybe I’ll make that lie true someday. Maybe I can start my own business.”
Kevin stared at his dad, his guilt giving way to a sudden determination. Without another word, he turned and strode back toward the front of the classroom.
“Listen, everyone!” Kevin’s voice rang out, loud and clear. The chatter stopped, and all eyes turned to him. Will’s heart skipped a beat as he watched his son.
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“My dad drives a garbage truck!” Kevin announced, his voice steady.
The room went silent. Kids stared at Kevin, some whispering to each other, others wide-eyed. Even the parents stopped their conversations.
Kevin straightened his back and continued, his voice unwavering.
“He’s not a business owner, and he’s not the richest, but I don’t care! I love my dad. He loves me and my mom, and I’m proud of him!”
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For a moment, the room stayed quiet, and Kevin held his breath.
Then, one of the parents applauded. Slowly, others joined in.
Soon, most of the parents were smiling and applauding as well—except Rob’s father, who sat stiffly, his face sour.
Kevin turned back to his dad, beaming.
“I love you, Dad. And I don’t care what anyone else thinks.”
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Will’s throat tightened as tears pricked at his eyes. He stood, pulling Kevin into a hug.
“Thank you, son. I love you too,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.
In that moment, Will didn’t care about titles or appearances.
His son’s love and pride were more than enough.
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: Margaret loved her husband and did everything he asked of her, which was a lot. But for years, she hadn’t been on the receiving end of that love. She had resigned herself to the idea that her life would always be this way—until she opened a strange box beneath the Christmas tree. Read the full story here.
This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.
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