A poor older man is unexpectedly rewarded for the kindness he showed to a stranger when he steps out of his house one morning and finds a brand new sports car instead of his old one.
80-year-old Gregory Smith stood on his front porch, dumbfounded. He pinched himself twice to ensure he wasn’t dreaming and called out to his wife, Cynthia, as he stared at the contents of the envelope in his hand and then at the gleaming sports car in front of his house.
“Cynthia! Cynthia! Come here quickly!” he shouted, his hands trembling with anxiety at the sight of the new car and his old one gone.
“What’s the matter with you, Gregory?” Cynthia emerged from inside, drying her hands on a towel and frowning. “I burnt the pancake because of you! If you don’t know, we were down to our last packet of pancake mix! And you’re just standing here? When are you planning on going to the grocery store?”
Gregory’s old car was gone. | Source: Pexels
Gregory waved his hand dismissively. “Look at this, Cynthia,” he said, showing her the envelope he had found on their front porch. “There were car keys inside the envelope and our old car is gone! Look over there,” he added, pointing outdoors where he had parked his old car last night. “That’s a brand new car! Who could have done this? What should I do now?”
“And there’s no note inside or anything indicating who sent this?” Cynthia asked, confused.
“I already double-checked the envelope. There is none! What do we—”
Before Gregory could finish his sentence, the honk of a car cut him off. When he looked out of the front door, he saw his old car parked in front of his house and a man stepping out of it.
Gregory’s eyes teared when he saw who the man was. “Oh my goodness! He kept his promise, Cynthia!” he said, turning to face her. Cynthia was smiling as if she knew this was going to happen.
Cynthia was the man’s partner in crime in planning the surprise for Gregory. | Source: Pexels
The man gave Gregory a warm hug. “How have you been, Gregory? It’s been some time, hasn’t it?”
“Jack? Oh, I can’t believe this…I’m quite good, dear. How are you? And please tell me you did not do this!” he cried, hugging him back.
“I had to, Gregory. After what you did for me…I mean, who shows such kindness these days? And you can’t blame me for it completely. Mrs. Smith helped me carry out the plan….” he said, smiling.
“I clearly didn’t take him seriously! But now that I see that shiny new car standing outside our door, I regret it.”
“Honestly, I tried to refuse him, darling,” Cynthia told Gregory. “But this boy wouldn’t listen to me! And it was so hard to play along! I.m terrible at acting, aren’t I?” she asked, scrunching her nose, and Jack laughed.
“I don’t think so, Mrs. Smith!”
Gregory shook his head repeatedly. “So this old man was being played and he had no clue? Oh, what do I even say….”
Both Cynthia and Jack laughed. “Alright, alright, enough talking,” Cynthia finally said. “Now, because Jack has come all the way here for us, we can’t just let him go. Come in and join us for breakfast, Jack, and there is no need to go to the store, Gregory. We have groceries that will last at least a week…It was all part of the plan,” she chuckled as she walked inside, Jack close behind her.
The man behind the new car was Jack. | Source: Pexels
As everyone sat at the dining table, Cynthia served breakfast and Jack began to recall his first encounter with Gregory. Cynthia knew bits and pieces of their story, but she wasn’t aware of the entire episode.
“So three weeks ago, Mrs. Simpson,” Jack began. “I met your husband at the airport. I was meant to fly the same flight as him to see my wife. She was in labor and I was very worried. In my anxiety, I didn’t realize I got the date wrong on my ticket. It was for the next day. I only realized it while checking in.
“Because there were no more seats available that day, Gregory offered me his ticket and said, ‘Boy, you NEED to be with your wife! Use my ticket and I’ll use yours.”
“Okay,” Cynthia said slowly, nodding. “I know about the ticket swap. But what about the cars? I’m still wondering what this car exchange has to do with anything….”
Cynthia was eager to learn the whole story behind the car swap. | Source: Pexels
Gregory chuckled. “That’s another interesting part…Before we went to the check-in, Jack and I had met in the waiting room. We were casually talking, honey, and I mentioned that we were still paying off loans, so we can’t afford a new car, and how our old one is giving us problems… After we exchanged tickets, this boy said, ‘Today we switched tickets; in a few weeks, we’ll exchange cars, that’s a promise!’
“I clearly didn’t take him seriously! But now that I see that shiny new car parked outside our door, I regret telling him we wanted a new car. Before departing, he took my address, and look what he’s done! We can’t keep it, Jack. We value your intentions, but this is unnecessary, boy…”
Cynthia nodded. “Gregory is right. We won’t be able to keep the car. I didn’t think much when you met with me yesterday and told me about this whole surprise, but I regret saying yes. Please, this isn’t necessary….”
Gregory couldn’t help but smile as he talked about his encounter with Jack. | Source: Pexels
But Jack shook his head. “Trust me; it’s nothing in return for what you did. Because of your husband, I got to be with my wife and baby. Please, I would feel bad if you turned down my present. I insist….”
Gregory and Cynthia couldn’t say no to Jack. They accepted the car, but Jack’s generosity did not end there. He was aware that after Gregory retired, he and Cynthia were struggling to pay off their loans, and as a result, they’d been unable to complete their house repairs.
So Jack took care of it for them. And one day, he came to visit them with his wife and baby daughter.
While they live in different cities, the Smiths feel like they’ve become a blended family with Jack. The young man checks on them every now and then and makes sure they don’t miss out on anything, especially after learning the old couple didn’t have any children of their own.
What can we learn from this story?
- Kindness never goes unrewarded. Gregory offered his plane ticket to Jack so he could be with his pregnant wife, and in return, he and Cynthia received so much love and respect from Jack that they had not even thought of. Jack was like a son to them and cared for their smallest needs.
- Help someone whenever and in whatever way you can. Gregory could offer Jack his ticket to help him, and he did that. In return, he and his wife were blessed with the love of a son they never had.
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My Husband Made a Schedule to ‘Improve’ Me as a Wife — I Taught Him a Valuable Lesson Instead
I was stunned when my husband, Jake, handed me a schedule to help me “become a better wife.” But instead of blowing up, I played along. Little did Jake know, I was about to teach him a lesson that would make him rethink his newfound approach to marriage.
I’ve always prided myself on being the level-headed one in our marriage. Jake, bless his heart, could get swept up in things pretty easily, whether it was a new hobby, or some random YouTube video that promised to change his life in three easy steps.
But we were solid until Jake met Steve. Steve was the type of guy who thought being loudly opinionated made him right, the type that talks right over you when you try to correct him.
He was also a perpetually single guy (who could have guessed?), who graciously dispensed relationship advice to all his married colleagues, Jake included. Jake should’ve known better, but my darling husband was positively smitten with Steve’s confidence.
I didn’t think much of it until Jake started making some noxious comments.
“Steve says relationships work best when the wife takes charge of the household,” he’d say. Or “Steve thinks it’s important for women to look good for their husbands, no matter how long they’ve been married.”
I’d roll my eyes and reply with some sarcastic remark, but it was getting under my skin. Jake was changing. He’d arch his eyebrows if I ordered takeout instead of cooking, and sigh when I let the laundry pile up because, God forbid, I had my own full-time job.
And then it happened. One night, he came home with The List.
He sat me down at the kitchen table, unfolded a piece of paper, and slid it across to me.
“I’ve been thinking,” he started, his voice dripping with a condescending tone I hadn’t heard from him before. “You’re a great wife, Lisa. But there’s room for improvement.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Oh really?”
He nodded, oblivious to the danger zone he was entering. “Yeah. Steve helped me realize that our marriage could be even better if you, you know, stepped up a bit.”
I stared at the paper in front of me. It was a schedule… and he’d written “Lisa’s Weekly Routine for Becoming a Better Wife” at the top in bold.
This guy had actually sat down and mapped out my entire week based on what Steve — a single guy with zero relationship experience — thought I should do to “improve” myself as a wife.
I was supposed to wake up at 5 a.m. every day to make Jake a gourmet breakfast. Then I’d hit the gym for an hour to “stay in shape.”
After that? A delightful lineup of chores: cleaning, laundry, ironing. And that was all before I left for work. I was supposed to cook a meal from scratch every evening and make fancy snacks for Jake and his friends when they came over to hang out at our place.
The whole thing was sexist and insulting on so many levels I didn’t even know where to start. I ended up staring at him, wondering if my husband had lost his mind.
“This will be great for you, and us,” he continued, oblivious.
“Steve says it’s important to maintain structure, and I think you could benefit from —”
“I could benefit from what?” I interrupted, my voice dangerously calm. Jake blinked, caught off guard by the interruption, but he recovered quickly.
“Well, you know, from having some guidance and a schedule.”
I wanted to throw that paper in his face and ask him if he’d developed a death wish. Instead, I did something that surprised even me: I smiled.
“You’re right, Jake,” I said sweetly. “I’m so lucky that you made me this schedule. I’ll start tomorrow.”
The relief on his face was instant. I almost felt sorry for him as I got up and stuck the list on the fridge. Almost. He had no idea what was coming.
The next day, I couldn’t help but smirk as I studied the ridiculous schedule again. If Jake thought he could hand me a list of “improvements,” then he was about to find out just how much structure our life could really handle.
I pulled out my laptop, opened up a fresh document, and titled it, “Jake’s Plan for Becoming the Best Husband Ever.” He wanted a perfect wife? Fine. But there was a cost to perfection.
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I began by listing all the things he had suggested for me, starting with the gym membership he was so keen on. It was laughable, really.
“$1,200 for a personal trainer.” I typed, barely containing my giggle.
Next came the food. If Jake wanted to eat like a king, that wasn’t happening on our current grocery budget. Organic, non-GMO, free-range everything? That stuff didn’t come cheap.
“$700 per month for groceries,” I wrote. He’d probably need to chip in for a cooking class too. Those were pricey, but hey, perfection wasn’t free.
I leaned back in my chair, laughing to myself as I imagined Jake’s face when he saw this. But I wasn’t done. Oh no, the pièce de résistance was still to come.
See, there was no way I could juggle all these expectations while holding down my job. If Jake wanted me to dedicate myself full-time to his absurd routine, then he’d have to compensate for the loss of my income.
I pulled up a calculator, estimating the value of my salary. Then, I added it to the list, complete with a little note: “$75,000 per year to replace Lisa’s salary since she will now be your full-time personal assistant, maid, and chef.”
My stomach hurt from laughing at this point.
And just for good measure, I threw in a suggestion about him needing to expand the house. After all, if he was going to have his friends over regularly, they’d need a dedicated space that wouldn’t intrude on my newly organized, impossibly structured life.
“$50,000 to build a separate ‘man cave’ so Jake and his friends don’t disrupt Lisa’s schedule.”
By the time I was done, the list was a masterpiece. A financial and logistical nightmare, sure, but a masterpiece nonetheless. It wasn’t just a counterattack — it was a wake-up call.
I printed it out, set it neatly on the kitchen counter, and waited for Jake to come home. When he finally walked through the door that evening, he was in a good mood.
“Hey, babe,” he called out, dropping his keys on the counter. He spotted the paper almost immediately. “What’s this?”
I kept my face neutral, fighting the urge to laugh as I watched him pick it up. “Oh, it’s just a little list I put together for you,” I said sweetly, “to help you become the best husband ever.”
Jake chuckled, thinking I was playing along with his little game. But as he scanned the first few lines, the grin started to fade. I could see the wheels turning in his head, the slow realization that this wasn’t the lighthearted joke he thought it was.
“Wait… what is all this?” He squinted at the numbers, his eyes widening as he saw the total costs. “$1,200 for a personal trainer? $700 a month for groceries? What the hell, Lisa?”
I leaned against the kitchen island, crossing my arms.
“Well, you want me to wake up at 5 a.m., hit the gym, make gourmet breakfasts, clean the house, cook dinner, and host your friends. I figured we should budget for all of that, don’t you think?”
His face turned pale as he flipped through the pages. “$75,000 a year? You’re quitting your job?!”
I shrugged. “How else am I supposed to follow your plan? I can’t work and be the perfect wife, right?”
He stared at the paper, dumbfounded.
The numbers, the absurdity of his own demands, it all hit him at once. His smugness evaporated, replaced by a dawning realization that he had seriously, seriously messed up.
“I… I didn’t mean…” Jake stammered, looking at me with wide eyes. “Lisa, I didn’t mean for it to be like this. I just thought —”
“You thought what? That I could ‘improve’ myself like some project?” My voice was calm, but the hurt behind it was real. “Jake, marriage isn’t about lists or routines. It’s about respect. And if you ever try to ‘fix’ me like this again, you’ll be paying a hell of a lot more than what’s on that paper.”
Silence hung in the air, thick and uncomfortable. Jake’s face softened, his shoulders slumping as he let out a deep sigh.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t realize how ridiculous it was. Steve made it sound sensible, but now I see it’s… it’s toxic. Oh God, I’ve been such a fool.”
I nodded, watching him carefully. “Yes, you have. Honestly, have you looked at Steve’s life? What makes you think he has the life experience to give you advice about marriage? Or anything else?”
The look on his face as my words hit home was priceless.
“You’re right. And he could never afford to live like this.” He slapped the list with the back of his hand. “He… he has no idea about the costs involved, or how demeaning this is. Oh, Lisa, I got carried away again, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but we’ll recover. Now, let’s tear that paper up and go back to being equals.”
He smiled weakly, the tension breaking just a little. “Yeah… let’s do that.”
We ripped up the list together, and for the first time in weeks, I felt like we were back on the same team.
Maybe this was what we needed, a reminder that marriage isn’t about one person being “better” than the other. It’s about being better together.
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