My late grandfather, a master storyteller who spun tales of buried treasure, left me a rather unexpected inheritance: a dusty old apiary. It felt like a cruel joke at first. Who would leave their grandchild a shack swarming with bees? My resentment lingered until the day I finally ventured into the beehives.
One typical morning, Aunt Daphne urged me to pack my bag for school, but I was too busy texting a friend about the upcoming dance and my crush, Scott. When she mentioned my grandfather’s dreams for me, my frustration grew. I had no interest in tending to his bees; I just wanted to enjoy my teenage life.
The next day, Aunt Daphne chastised me for my neglect, threatening to ground me. She insisted that caring for the apiary was part of my responsibility. Despite my protests, I reluctantly agreed to check on the hives. Donning protective gear, I opened the first hive, my heart racing. A bee stung my glove, and for a moment, I considered quitting. But a rush of determination took over, and I pressed on, hoping to show Aunt Daphne I could handle this.
While harvesting honey, I discovered a weathered plastic bag containing a faded map. Excited, I tucked it into my pocket and raced home to grab my bike. Following the map, I pedaled into the woods, recalling my grandfather’s stories that had once enchanted me.
I found myself in a clearing resembling a scene from one of his tales—the old gamekeeper’s house stood before me, decaying but still captivating. Memories flooded back of lazy afternoons spent there, listening to his stories. Touching the gnarled tree nearby, I recalled his playful warnings about the gnomes that supposedly lurked in the woods.
Inside the forgotten cabin, I uncovered a beautifully carved metal box. Inside was a note from Grandpa: “To my dear Robyn, this box contains a treasure for you, but do not open it until your journey’s true end” Though tempted, I knew I had to honor his wishes.
After exploring further, I realized I was lost and panic set in. Remembering Grandpa’s advice to stay calm, I pressed on, searching for a familiar path. Eventually, I stumbled upon the bridge he often spoke of, but it felt further away than I had hoped. Exhausted and disoriented, I collapsed beneath a tree, longing for home.
The next morning, determined to find my way, I recalled Grandpa’s lessons as I navigated through the wilderness. I found a river but was startled when I slipped into the icy water. Fighting against the current, I finally managed to cling to a log, eventually dragging myself to shore.
Soaked and trembling, I rummaged through my backpack, only to find stale crumbs. When I remembered Grandpa’s wisdom, I used healing leaves for my cuts and continued onward, drawn by the sound of rushing water. I finally reached the river again, but the water was treacherous. Desperate, I knelt to drink, but the current swept me away, and I found myself struggling against the powerful flow.
Determined not to give up, I let go of my backpack but clung to the metal box. With sheer will, I fought my way to the bank, finally escaping the icy grasp of the river. I needed shelter, so I built a makeshift one from branches under a sturdy oak tree.
The next morning, I set out once more, the metal box feeling like my only lifeline. Memories of fishing trips with Grandpa warmed me, urging me forward. When I finally spotted the bridge, hope surged within me. But the forest began to close in around me, confusion and despair threatening to overwhelm me. Just when I thought I couldn’t go on, I found a clearing and collapsed, utterly spent.
Then, I heard voices calling my name. I awoke in a hospital bed with Aunt Daphne by my side. Overcome with regret, I apologized for everything. She comforted me, reminding me of Grandpa’s unconditional love and how he always believed in me.
As she reached into her bag, my heart raced when I recognized the familiar blue wrapping paper. It was an Xbox, a gift from Grandpa, meant to be given only when I understood the value of hard work. I realized then that I had learned that lesson, and the desire for the gift faded.
In the following years, I grew into my responsibilities, embracing the lessons my grandfather imparted. Now, as a mother myself, I reflect on those moments with gratitude. The sweet honey from my bees serves as a cherished reminder of the bond I shared with Grandpa, a bond that continues to guide me.
A couple found their wedding ring, which had been lost for almost 10 years, thanks to Hurricane Milton. The storm turned up the ring after all that time.
A wedding band (stock image). Photo: Getty
Amid the destruction from Hurricane Milton in Florida, a couple found something special. Laura and Basil Yorio from Palm Bay had to leave their home before the hurricane hit on Wednesday, Oct. 9, as a Category 3 storm. When they returned, Laura was surprised to find Basil’s wedding ring in their yard. He had lost it nine years earlier during a construction project.
“It was just sitting there, a little buried in the dirt,” Laura said, thinking at first it was a key ring
The jewelry Laura found sticking out of the ground turned out to be Basil’s missing wedding ring, which had “disappeared” during a construction project nine years ago. Despite years of lawn care and searching, the ring never showed up—until now.
Laura shared a photo of the silver ring with WOFL, showing how it was hidden in the grass. “We’ve been over this yard a thousand times in the last nine years,” she said. “We even have a landscaper who comes every week. Still, nothing.”
Laura believes the hurricane caused the ring to finally surface. She added, “We know a lot of people are dealing with really tough things right now, so I feel a little guilty being happy, but it was something good that came out of all this.”
How to Help the Victims of Hurricane Milton
Hurricane Milton hit near Siesta Key on Wednesday, causing major damage. As of Friday, at least 16 people have died, according to CNN and NBC News. Five of those deaths happened because of a tornado in St. Lucie County. In total, 19 tornadoes hit the state as the hurricane moved inland, according to Gov. Ron DeSantis.
About 1.5 million people in Florida still don’t have power as of Saturday, Oct. 12, according to PowerOutage.us.
Since the hurricane, hundreds of people have been rescued, including 135 from a senior living home in Tampa, 500 from an apartment building in Clearwater, and more from a Holiday Inn in Plant City.
This comes after Hurricane Helene, which struck the Big Bend region on Sept. 26, killing over 200 people.
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