
Stella finalmente conseguiu chegar ao seu assento na classe executiva do avião. Mas um homem não quis sentar ao lado dela e disse à aeromoça que a mulher mais velha deveria ficar na classe econômica. A aeromoça recusou o pedido, e Stella conseguiu sentar-se. Depois, Stella contou a história mais agridoce de sua vida.
“Eu não quero sentar ao lado daquela… mulher!” Franklin Delaney quase gritou com a aeromoça que acompanhava uma mulher mais velha e disse que ela estava sentada ao lado dele.
“Senhor, este é o assento dela. Não podemos fazer nada sobre isso,” a aeromoça disse gentilmente, tentando persuadir o empresário que tinha uma carranca no rosto.

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“Isso não pode ser verdade. Esses assentos são muito caros, e ela não poderia pagar por um! Olhe para as roupas dela!” Franklin quase gritou, apontando para as roupas da mulher mais velha. Stella estava envergonhada. Ela estava usando suas melhores roupas e odiava que os outros soubessem que sua roupa era barata.
Outros passageiros da classe executiva se viraram para olhá-los, e a mulher mais velha, Stella Taylor, olhou para os próprios pés. A altercação continuou, e estava atrasando o enchimento do avião. Vários outros comissários de bordo apareceram, tentando acalmar Franklin.
Surpreendentemente, outros passageiros concordaram com o empresário. Eles concordaram que a mulher não poderia ter pago pelo assento e disseram para ela sair. Foi a experiência mais humilhante da vida de Stella e, finalmente, ela cedeu.
“Senhorita, está tudo bem. Se você tiver outro assento na classe econômica, eu fico lá. Gastei todas as minhas economias neste assento, mas é melhor não incomodar os outros”, ela disse, colocando a mão no braço da aeromoça gentilmente.
A mulher já tinha sido tão gentil com ela porque Stella se perdeu no aeroporto. Ela tinha 85 anos e nunca tinha viajado na vida. Portanto, o Aeroporto Internacional de Seattle-Tacoma tinha sido bem confuso. Mas a companhia aérea finalmente designou um atendente para ela, que a acompanhou durante todo o processo, e elas finalmente chegaram ao voo dela, que estava partindo para Nova York.
A aeromoça não queria brigar com o empresário que não acreditava que Stella estava sentada ao lado dele, embora eles até mostrassem o cartão de embarque dela. A mulher se virou para Stella com uma carranca severa, embora a raiva não fosse direcionada a Stella.
“Não, senhora. Você pagou por este assento, e merece sentar aqui, não importa o que digam,” a comissária de bordo insistiu.
Ela se virou para o homem novamente e ameaçou chamar a segurança do aeroporto para escoltá-lo para fora. Foi quando o homem suspirou em derrota e deixou Stella sentar ao lado dele. O avião decolou, e Stella ficou tão assustada que deixou sua bolsa cair.

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Felizmente, o homem não era completamente irracional e a ajudou a recuperar suas coisas. Mas seu medalhão de rubi caiu, e o homem assobiou para o item. “Uau, isso é algo a mais”, ele comentou.
“O que você quer dizer?” Stella perguntou.
“Sou um joalheiro de antiguidades, e este medalhão é insanamente valioso. Essas são definitivamente rubis de verdade. Estou errado?”, disse o homem, devolvendo o medalhão a ela. Stella o agarrou de volta e olhou para ele.
“Sinceramente, não tenho ideia. Meu pai deu para minha mãe há muitos anos, e ela me deu quando meu pai não voltou para casa”, disse Stella.
“O que aconteceu?”, perguntou o homem. “Sinto muito. Meu nome é Franklin Delaney. Quero me desculpar pelo meu comportamento anterior. Algumas coisas complicadas estão acontecendo na minha vida, e eu não deveria ter agido daquela forma. Posso perguntar o que aconteceu com seu pai?”
“Meu pai era um piloto de caça durante a Segunda Guerra Mundial. Quando a América entrou na guerra, ele saiu de casa, mas deu este medalhão para minha mãe como uma promessa de que ele voltaria. Eles se amavam muito. Eu tinha apenas quatro anos na época, mas me lembro daquele dia claramente. Ele nunca voltou”, explicou Stella.
“Isso é terrível.”
“É. A guerra não tem sentido. Nada sai dela. E minha mãe nunca se recuperou da perda. Ela era uma casca de si mesma, e nós mal sobrevivíamos. Mas mesmo quando as coisas estavam terríveis em casa, ela nunca pensou em vendê-lo. Ela me deu quando eu tinha dez anos e me disse para ficar com ele. Mas eu também nunca pensei em vendê-lo, embora eu também tenha passado por dificuldades financeiras. Honestamente, seu valor real está lá dentro”, Stella revelou e sorriu para Franklin enquanto o abria.

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Havia duas fotos dentro do medalhão. Uma era em tom sépia e mostrava um casal, e a outra mostrava um bebê. “Esses são meus pais. Olha como eles estavam apaixonados”, Stella disse nostalgicamente.
Franklin assentiu, sem dizer nada, mas olhou para a outra foto. “É seu neto?”, ele se perguntou de repente.
“Não, esse é meu filho e, na verdade, ele é o motivo de eu estar neste voo”, respondeu a mulher mais velha.
“Você vai vê-lo?”
“Não, é isso. Você se lembra de como eu disse que tinha problemas financeiros? Bem, eu engravidei há muitos anos. Eu estava na casa dos 30, e meu namorado desapareceu. Eu tive meu filho por vários meses, mas estava claro que eu não seria capaz de dar a ele uma vida boa. Eu não tinha um sistema de apoio. Minha mãe já havia falecido anos antes após sofrer de demência, então eu o dei para adoção”, revelou Stella.
“Vocês dois se reconectaram depois?”

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“Eu tentei. Eu o encontrei graças a essas coisas de teste de DNA. Pedi a um garoto vizinho para me ajudar a enviar um e-mail para ele. Mas Josh — esse é o nome dele — respondeu que estava bem e que não precisava de mim. Tentei várias vezes contatá-lo e pedi perdão, mas ele nunca mais respondeu meus e-mails.”
Franklin coçou a cabeça em confusão. “Não entendo o que você está fazendo neste voo então. Você disse que estava aqui por ele.”
“Ele é o piloto deste voo. Estou aqui porque hoje é o aniversário dele. Ele nasceu em 22 de janeiro de 1973, e eu posso não ter muito tempo nesta terra, então eu queria passar pelo menos um dos aniversários dele com ele. Este é o único jeito,” Stella explicou e sorriu para Franklin antes de voltar os olhos para o medalhão novamente.
Ela não percebeu Franklin limpando uma lágrima errante do rosto ou o fato de que alguns comissários de bordo e vários passageiros ouviram a história. Depois de alguns minutos, uma aeromoça entrou na cabine.
“De qualquer forma, esta é uma das rotas mais longas dele, então posso passar cinco horas perto do meu filho”, disse Stella, finalmente fechando o medalhão e colocando-o na bolsa.

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Na opinião dela, aquelas cinco horas passaram rápido, e quando o intercomunicador do piloto ligou, ele anunciou que chegariam ao JFK em breve. Mas em vez de desligar a comunicação, ele continuou sua mensagem.
“Além disso, quero que todos deem as boas-vindas à minha mãe biológica, que está voando na minha rota pela primeira vez. Ei, mãe. Espere por mim quando o avião pousar”, disse John pelo interfone. Os olhos de Stella lacrimejaram, e Franklin sorriu, envergonhado por ter se comportado de forma tão rude antes. Mas, pelo menos, ele já se desculpou.
Quando John pousou o avião, ele saiu da cabine, quebrando o protocolo, e foi direto para Stella com os braços abertos, abraçando-a ferozmente. Todos os passageiros e comissários de bordo aplaudiram e comemoraram.
Ninguém ouviu, mas John sussurrou nos ouvidos de Stella, agradecendo-a por fazer o que era melhor para ele todos aqueles anos atrás. Depois de responder ao primeiro e-mail dela, John percebeu que não estava realmente bravo com sua mãe por desistir dele, mas não sabia o que dizer a ela. Então ele se desculpou por não responder aos outros e-mails dela e não ouvi-la antes. Ela disse a ele que não havia nada pelo que se desculpar, pois ela entendia o porquê.
O que podemos aprender com essa história?
- Nunca seja rude com estranhos, não importa o que aconteça. Franklin foi rude com a mulher sem nenhuma razão válida e ficou envergonhado de suas ações mais tarde.
- O perdão é divino. Stella foi rápida em perdoar Franklin por suas ações e não guardou rancor do homem sentado ao lado dela.
Compartilhe esta história com seus amigos. Pode alegrar o dia deles e inspirá-los.
Se você gostou desta história, talvez goste desta sobre um homem que adotou uma menina, e a mãe biológica apareceu anos depois.
After a Call from a Stranger, a Woman’s Recent Love Story Turns Into a Drama – Story of the Day

“All men are liars.” With these words, Violet ended her radio program. Her life experiences and the countless stories she heard from her listeners had proven it. But, a date with a coworker made her question her belief. After a call from a stranger, she was convinced she had been right all along.
Violet sat comfortably in her chair, leaning slightly toward the microphone in the cozy, dimly lit studio of a local radio station.
The equipment’s soft hum and the faint buzz of the control board’s lights cast a warm, golden glow across the room.
Opposite her was James, her co-host, his posture more relaxed, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the table as they listened to the voice crackling through the speakers.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“He’s pulling away from me…” Susan’s voice trembled, and a muffled sob came through.
“I don’t know what to do. We barely talk anymore. I never thought I’d turn to a radio show for advice, but I don’t have anyone else who’ll listen.”
Violet adjusted her headphones, her expression softening.
“Don’t worry, Suzy, right? That’s your name?”
Her voice was calm, like the steady rhythm of a heartbeat, offering comfort through the static.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Yes, it’s Susan,” the caller confirmed, her breath hitching.
“Well, Suzy, that’s why we have this segment—to help people like you with relationship struggles. Thank you for sharing your story. It’s brave of you.”
Susan hesitated before asking, “So… what do you think I should do, Violet?”
Violet straightened in her chair, her tone sharp yet controlled.
“The same thing I always say—forget him. He’s either cheating on you or stringing you along. Either way, you deserve better.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
James’s head snapped up, and he raised an eyebrow at her.
“Violet, maybe we shouldn’t jump to conclusions. It could be anything—stress at work, personal issues. Maybe he doesn’t know how to communicate.”
Violet gave him a sidelong glance.
“Or maybe he has a mistress,” she said dryly. “Let’s not sugarcoat it. All men are liars.”
The tension hung for a moment, but Violet quickly turned back to the microphone, her professional smile firmly in place.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Thanks for tuning in, folks. Enjoy the next song.” She flipped the switch, cutting their microphones.
Music filled the studio, and Violet leaned back, the faintest smirk playing on her lips.
James, however, shook his head slightly, unsure whether to push back or let it slide.
The studio lights dimmed slightly as the end-of-shift silence settled over the room.
Violet gathered her things—her notebook, headphones, and an oversized scarf she draped over her shoulder.
She moved with her usual efficiency, but her mind was already on the comfort of home and a hot cup of tea.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
James lingered by the console, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
His usual easygoing demeanor seemed absent, replaced by a noticeable nervousness. Finally, he stepped closer, clearing his throat.
“You were ruthless with men today, as usual,” he said, flashing her a sheepish grin. His attempt at humor was met with a raised eyebrow.
Violet paused and glanced at him.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“You’ve been here six months, James,” she replied flatly. “I thought you’d have figured out by now what our audience expects.”
“So, it’s just for ratings, then?” James asked, tilting his head.
“You don’t actually believe all that?”
Violet shrugged, her expression unreadable.
“I never said that. What do you want, James? I was about to head home.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
James rubbed the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at her. “Well, uh… I’ve been meaning to ask…” His words trailed off as his confidence wavered.
“Spit it out,” Violet said, smirking slightly, amused by his awkwardness. “Talking is supposed to be your job.”
He chuckled nervously, his face flushing. “Would you, um… like to go on a date with me?”
“A date?” Violet blinked, caught off guard. “Like a date-date?”
“Yes. Exactly. There’s a great place nearby I think you’d like.”

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Violet hesitated, shifting her bag on her shoulder. “James, you know I’m not big on dating.”
“Because you think all men are liars, right?” James teased. His tone was light but daring. “Let me prove that not all of us are that bad. Some of us are mostly honest.”
“Mostly?” Violet repeated, laughing despite herself. “Fine. But don’t expect miracles.”
“That’s good enough for me,” James said, his grin widening as he grabbed his coat.
The small restaurant felt like a hidden gem, the kind of place you’d never stumble upon unless someone showed you.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Candlelight flickered on every table, casting warm, golden hues across the room while the smooth notes of live jazz wove through the air.
The musicians, tucked into a corner, played as though they were part of the room’s heartbeat, their gentle melodies making the space feel alive yet soothing.
James pulled out a chair for Violet, his movements natural, unforced. Violet raised an eyebrow but couldn’t help a small smile as she sat down.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Chivalry isn’t dead, I see,” she teased.
“Well, I try,” James said with a grin, taking his seat across from her.
Violet glanced around, taking in the cozy surroundings.
“This place is charming,” she admitted. “I didn’t know spots like this still existed.”
“Judging by that look on your face, you don’t go to places like this often,” James said, leaning forward slightly, his tone playful.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“I don’t go on dates often, that’s for sure,” Violet replied, smoothing the napkin on her lap.
“Really? Hard to believe. A radio host and such a beauty? You must have admirers.”
Violet’s cheeks turned pink, and she waved him off.
“Stop it. I used to date, but I gave it up a long time ago. It always felt like a waste of time.”
James tilted his head, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “Why’s that?”
Violet hesitated before answering.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“After dealing with betrayal, lies, and hearing all those stories on the show… It’s hard to believe in love anymore.”
James’s expression softened.
“Well,” he said gently, “not all of us are so bad.”
“Every man says that,” Violet sighed, leaning back in her chair.
James chuckled but didn’t push further. Instead, he started sharing a story about his childhood, painting vivid pictures of his clumsy adventures that left Violet laughing.
The conversation shifted naturally from funny anecdotes to deeper reflections about their lives.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Violet found herself relaxing in a way she hadn’t expected, her guard lowering with each shared laugh.
“See?” James said, grinning as she wiped away tears of laughter. “Not so bad spending time with me, is it?”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Violet replied, though her smile betrayed her words.
James stood, gesturing toward the restroom. “I’ll be right back. But I want to hear the rest of your story about the bird when I get back.”
“Hurry up, or I’ll forget it,” Violet called after him, still chuckling as she sipped her water.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Her phone buzzed on the table, interrupting her thoughts.
She frowned at the unfamiliar number and hesitated, but curiosity got the better of her.
“Hello?” she answered.
“Hi, this is Jane,” a hesitant voice said on the other end.
“Sorry to call so late, but James hasn’t come home, and your number was the only one I could find. Is he with you?”
“Jane?” Violet asked, her voice suddenly tight. “Are you his sister?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Sister? No, I’m his girlfriend,” Jane replied sharply, the words cutting through the air like a knife.
Violet froze, the warmth of the evening draining away. Her heart pounded as Jane’s words echoed in her ears.
Without responding, she hung up, her hands trembling.
She grabbed her bag, scarf, and coat and walked briskly out of the restaurant, leaving behind the candlelight, the music, and the man she thought might have been different.
The next day at the radio station, Violet entered the studio with her usual brisk stride, her scarf loosely draped around her neck.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Her expression, however, was anything but usual. It was cold, distant—like a door slammed shut.
She avoided eye contact with James, who was already at the control board, adjusting levels and humming softly to himself.
“Hey, Violet,” James called out, his voice light. He looked up with a smile, but it faltered when she breezed past him without so much as a glance.
“I was worried about you last night. You left so suddenly. I tried calling you—”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“I’m fine,” Violet cut in, her tone sharp and clipped. She didn’t stop moving, setting her bag down with deliberate force.
James frowned, taking a cautious step toward her.
“Did I do something wrong?” he asked hesitantly, his voice quieter now.
“You tell me,” she snapped, finally meeting his eyes, her glare icy. “Or maybe ask Jane.”
The name hit him like a slap, and his brow furrowed. “Jane? How do you know her?”
“Your girlfriend called me,” she said icily. “She wanted to know when you’d be home. Don’t worry—I didn’t keep you too long.”

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“Violet, wait—” James started, his hands raised as if to stop the invisible storm brewing between them.
“One more word,” Violet interrupted, her voice cutting through the room like a blade, “and you’ll be looking for a new job.”
James froze, his mouth half-open, then closed it. He nodded stiffly and returned to his seat, his shoulders slumping slightly.
The day dragged on in frosty silence.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
By mid-afternoon, Violet noticed something strange. James didn’t look like a man caught in a lie; he looked genuinely upset.
His face was pale, his expression distant, as if the weight of the world sat on his shoulders.
Curiosity gnawed at her. By the end of the day, she found herself following him as he left the building.
Near the station’s entrance, a young woman stood waiting. Her arms were crossed, her expression a mix of anger and desperation.
“James! We need to talk!” the woman shouted, stepping closer.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
James stopped abruptly and sighed. “We’ve got nothing to talk about, Jane,” he said, his voice firm but weary. “I’ve told you before—we’re done. It has been months! Why won’t you let it go already!?”
“But I love you! No one else will ever love you the way I do! Even that coworker of yours!” Jane cried, her voice breaking.
“Enough!” James snapped. “Because of the lies you told her, Violet won’t even look at me. I’ve had it, Jane. Stay out of my life.”
Jane burst into tears, her shoulders shaking as she pleaded one last time, but James didn’t budge.
Finally, she climbed into her car and drove away, leaving James standing alone. He sank onto the building’s steps, burying his face in his hands.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Violet hesitated before stepping forward. “James…” she said quietly. “I heard everything.”
He looked up, his eyes tired but calm. “Now you know what I was trying to explain,” he said.
“I’m sorry,” Violet said softly, her voice filled with genuine regret. “But can you blame me for assuming the worst?”
“No. But not only men can lie as you can see.”

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She managed a faint smile, her defenses softening.
“Maybe not. Should we give this another try?”
James straightened, a hint of hope returning to his face.
“Why not?” he replied, a small grin tugging at his lips. “After all, tonight’s already been full of surprises.”
Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.
If you enjoyed this story, read this one: Every year, Sarah had to devise a new excuse to explain to her family why they wouldn’t be visiting. “I won’t miss a single-family holiday because of your parents!” her husband Peter always insisted. But this time, Sarah stood her ground and defended her family values.
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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