Margaret Elizabeth was returning from the grocery store. In front of her building, a car was parked on the lawn. The neighbors had already gathered and were grumbling about the owner.
— Who’s this for? — the elderly woman frowned.
— Probably for Anna again, who else? — one neighbor chimed in.
— Who else would it be? — another picked up. — Fancy cars don’t come for us old folks. Only ambulances.
The elderly women lingered by the entrance, complaining about people who disregard public order and, of course, muttering about the authorities who don’t care about people. Just then, the very Anna they were talking about emerged.
Ignoring the neighbors, she went about her business. The car remained on the lawn. The women watched her go, and Margaret Elizabeth hurried home. A man was standing in front of her door. The elderly woman frowned.
— Margaret Elizabeth? — the man smiled, seeing she was about to enter the apartment.
— I’m not buying anything from you, my meters are fine, I get my pension at the post office, and I’m not signing up for any bank! — Margaret declared immediately, well aware of the scammers who go door-to-door.
— I’m David, — the man laughed. — We spoke two days ago. Remember? — He leaned closer, as if she could have seen his face through the phone.
— My cousin’s son, — he added.
— Oh, David, — Margaret exhaled. — You should’ve warned me you were coming to visit. — She opened the door, and they stepped inside. Then she paused.
— Wait a minute, is that your car on the lawn?
— On the lawn? — David stretched his smile. — I thought it was a parking spot.
— What parking spot? — Margaret asked sternly. — Go move it before the neighbors take care of it for you.
David hurried outside, and Margaret Elizabeth went to put the kettle on. She wanted to sell her apartment, but why embarrass herself in front of the neighbors on her way out? She’d move, but the lawn would stay trampled.
While having tea with her distant relative, Margaret studied him closely. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d seen him. Simon, her cousin, might have visited thirty years ago with his young son. Then they lost touch. He didn’t check on her, and she didn’t reach out to him. Now, his son had shown up. He seemed like a decent young man—polite, always smiling.
Something about him put her off, though. Maybe it was the smell of cigarette smoke or his yellowed teeth. He was still young, yet he’d already let himself go. Still, he’d come at the right time, offering to help her sell the apartment.
Nearing 70, Margaret had seen enough bureaucracy. She didn’t want to deal with the hassle of selling or risk working with realtors. Here was family, after all. She offered him a few thousand for his help, but he refused.
She decided she’d slip him the money anyway once everything was settled and she’d moved into her new place. The money left from selling the apartment, after buying a house in the countryside, she’d initially planned to donate to the church. Now, she thought, maybe she’d help her family instead. She’d see how things went.
Margaret had never married or had children. Living alone in an apartment in her old age didn’t appeal to her. She wanted to be closer to the earth, where she still had the energy to tend a small garden and breathe fresh air. No need to climb down from the fourth floor. The building was old, with no elevator.
She and David discussed the apartment sale and her vision for a small house in a specific area. The very next day, he brought a potential buyer. After the buyer left, Margaret turned to David.
— Maybe we should wait until spring? I don’t want to move in winter. It’d be easier when it’s warmer.
— What are you saying, Margaret Elizabeth? — David sounded indignant. — You know houses get more expensive in spring. It doesn’t matter for the apartment, but now’s the time to buy a house. You’ll see how the heating works, too. Buy in spring, and it might look nice but turn out to be freezing.
His argument seemed convincing to Margaret. Later, David told her the buyer liked the apartment and was ready to move forward. He urged her to finalize the deal while the buyer was willing.
— If I sell, where will I go? — Margaret objected. — Let’s find a house first, then I’ll sell the apartment.
— Houses are easier; there are plenty of options. We’ll find one quickly. Your apartment, though—no elevator, not the best area. While they’re offering a good price, you should take it.
— Let them wait, — Margaret insisted. — Once we settle the house, then I’ll sell the apartment.
— I agree with you, — David softened. — Let’s find a house first, and we’ll do both deals in one day. You won’t have to worry about the money, and it’ll mean fewer trips to the notary.
David didn’t make her wait long. A few days later, he came to Margaret Elizabeth’s apartment and showed her housing options on his phone. She picked a few she liked to visit in person. David arranged the viewings, and that weekend, he drove her to the countryside.
The options weren’t great, but the prices left room for a good renovation. David, familiar with construction, explained what materials were needed, how to do the repairs, and the costs. He even offered to help with it.
— It’s winter; I’d like to move in and not worry about anything, — Margaret sighed. — I’ve done so many little repairs in my life, I don’t want more. I just want to settle in and go about my business without fixing things.
— Margaret Elizabeth, — David patted her shoulder. — The roof doesn’t leak, the heating works, and I’ll send some guys to put up wallpaper in a day. Your friends in the city will be staring out their windows, but you’ll be strolling in your own yard.
Margaret was a bit wary of how insistently David pushed her to finalize the house purchase. But then she reasoned he had no gain from it, and dealing with her affairs wasn’t exactly convenient for him. She was grateful he’d taken it on.
So, Margaret agreed on a house with a good location—near a store and a bus stop. It didn’t need major repairs. They set a date to finalize both deals. Soon, David arrived with the apartment buyer and another man, introduced as the house’s owner, and they took Margaret to the notary’s office. While the notary prepared the papers, David brought everyone tea, setting Margaret’s cup down last.
Margaret was nervous. It was her apartment, after all—big money, her whole life spent there. Everything felt too fast. She’d only been making plans, convincing herself to leave her familiar home for a life closer to nature. And now, it was all decided. No turning back.
She sipped a little tea. When the papers were handed to her for signing, her head felt dizzy. She blamed it on nerves. The past few days had been stressful, sorting through her things and packing them into boxes. She signed, telling herself to calm down—it was done. Soon, she’d be enjoying country life.
— The house is ready; you can move in today, — the house’s owner said.
— Why not? Let’s take you there now, — David jumped in. — We’ll handle your things later.
— What would I do in an empty house? No, I’ll move with my things, — Margaret refused.
— Speaking of things, — the owner hesitated, — there’s some furniture and dishes left there. Maybe take a look, see what you need, and I’ll take the rest.
David insisted on going to see the house again to settle everything, even though it was getting dark. Margaret gave in, and the men loaded her into the car and drove to her new home.
She started feeling drowsy. Soon, she slipped into unconsciousness. Her awareness returned in fragments. She saw they were driving her somewhere. The men were talking, their words unclear.
— Grandma, can you hear me? — David’s voice seemed far away, but she couldn’t respond.
— Leave her here; she’ll die on her own, — she heard next time she came to.
She woke again to cold air. They’d left her in a snowbank. Through the fog in her ears, she heard the car driving away. She realized David had tricked her. Her suspicions about the man claiming to be the house’s owner were right—he wasn’t the same person who’d shown her the property.
Clearly, David had slipped something into her tea and tricked her into signing a deed of gift. She closed her eyes, preparing to face death.
Meanwhile, a young woman watched from a distance. She’d been driving by and noticed a car stopped on the roadside. Thinking someone might need help, she slowed down. Two men got out, pulled something large from the car, and headed into the woods.
It was snowing, and she couldn’t make out what they were carrying. Something about it felt off. Why would people drag something into the woods on a deserted road? Trash, maybe—or something worse. Her mind, fueled by too many crime movies, raced with possibilities.
She drove a little further, stopped her SUV, turned off the headlights, and waited. Pen and notebook ready, she jotted down the car’s license plate as it passed. Then she turned around and headed back to where the suspicious car had stopped. Their haste to leave only deepened her unease.
The snow was coming down harder. She followed the men’s tracks and found an elderly woman lying in the snow. Rushing to her, she saw the woman was unconscious but breathing. She immediately called her husband to explain the situation.
The elderly woman stirred. The young woman rubbed her, trying to bring her back to consciousness. Leaving her in the cold was too dangerous. Miraculously, the woman could move, though barely aware. She kept falling, slipping in and out of consciousness, but she was moving—enough to avoid freezing to death. Soon, an ambulance arrived.
The paramedics carried the woman to the ambulance, and the young woman followed in her car. She couldn’t just leave the stranger. Someone had to answer for treating an elderly woman so cruelly. If that suspicious car hadn’t caught her eye, the snow would’ve covered the tracks, and the case would’ve gone unsolved.
The elderly woman was saved. Diana, her rescuer, reported the incident to the police. She visited the hospital to check on the woman. Seeing her in a calm setting, Diana was stunned, unsure how to react.
— Margaret Elizabeth? — Diana couldn’t hide her emotion. — I’m Diana, do you remember?
The elderly woman studied her and began to cry. She recognized Diana, though it had been twenty years. She’d last seen her as a little girl. If Diana hadn’t said her name, Margaret might not have realized who she was.
But now, looking at Diana’s full lips, small upturned nose, and curly red hair, she remembered the little girl she’d once cared for.
The police investigated, but Margaret had nowhere to live—her apartment was already transferred to someone else. Diana and her husband took Margaret in while the housing issue was resolved.
Over tea, watching Diana’s two-year-old son, Jack, scamper around the kitchen, they reminisced. Diana was eight when her mother fell ill. They lived alone, with no family. Margaret, then a young doctor, responded to the call. The diagnosis was appendicitis, advanced and life-threatening.
— We’re taking your mom to the hospital, — the kind doctor told the girl. — Is there someone to look after you?
Diana shook her head, and her mother, struggling to speak, said they had no one, and her daughter would be alone. As the paramedics carried her mother to the ambulance, Margaret packed a few of Diana’s things and took her home.
Diana’s mother had surgery but remained in critical condition, worrying her daughter might end up in an orphanage. Margaret took pity on Diana. Unable to have children herself, she found joy in caring for the girl.
Diana stayed with her for a month until her mother recovered. They grew close, and for a time, Margaret felt the joy of motherhood. After the recovery, she stayed in touch with the family, bringing Diana gifts and once taking her along on a work shift. Over time, contact faded.
Diana and her mother moved away, too far for Margaret to visit easily. Diana grew up, busy with school, activities, and friends her age. There was little time to stay in touch with an adult.
Now, twenty years later, that little girl sat before her, a mother to an adorable Jack. Diana’s mother had passed away before meeting her grandchildren. Her health had always been frail. She worked tirelessly to give Diana everything she’d lacked growing up in an orphanage.
Diana had married well. Her family was wonderful—her husband a lawyer, she his assistant at the firm. Diana’s husband helped Margaret reclaim her apartment and worked to ensure David faced a strong sentence for attempted murder and fraud.
From then on, Margaret had a family. She quickly bonded with Jack. Though she couldn’t have children of her own, other people’s children became hers. And now, to her delight, she had a grandson.
She offered to watch Jack when Diana had urgent matters, sparing her the need for a nanny. By spring, Margaret’s apartment was sold—without fraud this time—and she bought the countryside house she’d dreamed of. Diana’s family visited often. That summer, they came again, and Margaret treated them to homegrown vegetables.
— Nana, Nana! — Jack ran to Margaret Elizabeth, a nickname he’d given her that warmed her heart. — Come look, there’s a scary worm! We need to kill it.
— Oh, Jack, no! — Margaret sat him on her lap. — The worm digs the soil, and a tomato seed falls in. A tomato grows, Jack eats it, and he grows into a big boy.
— How does it dig? — Jack laughed. — It doesn’t have a shovel.
— Just because you don’t see a shovel doesn’t mean it can’t dig, — Diana laughed. — If you spare the worm now, it might save you later.
— How will I know it saved me? — Jack pressed.
— Do you see its shovel? — his dad chimed in. Jack shook his head. — But it digs the soil. So, just because you don’t see something doesn’t mean it’s not there. Understand?
— Yeah! — Jack beamed. — So God exists.
The adults exchanged surprised glances. — Nana says God exists, but she can’t show Him. Now I know. — They all laughed.
Every action leads to a result, seen or unseen. To get a good outcome, you must do good, even when there’s no obvious reward.
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