This amazing story was shared with me by my grandmother, whom I often visit in the village. There was a time we hadn’t seen each other for a long while because I’d spent two years working abroad. Upon returning to England, my first stop was my beloved grandma’s.
I’d been staying in the village for a few days when I suddenly realized I hadn’t seen Mary Thompson, Grandma’s neighbor from across the street. I’d always admired that kind-hearted elderly woman. She was a hard worker.
“Gran, where’s your friend Mary Thompson?” I asked with concern. “I haven’t seen her all week. Is she alright?”
Grandma looked at me with surprise.
“Well, she’s been living in a care home for over a year now,” she replied, realizing I must not have known. “Oh, right, you wouldn’t have heard! Sit down, and I’ll tell you everything.”
Grandma then shared the story with me.
As I mentioned, Mary was always working tirelessly. No one ever saw her sitting idle. She’d be out in the garden, seeing to the vegetables, running to greet the cows as they came in from the fields, baking pies (sharing them with half the village!), or rushing to catch the early bus with two buckets of cherries. Fresh vegetables, fruits, greens, eggs, goat’s wool scarves, cream, curd cheese—Mary took everything to the town center market to sell. And every penny, every pound, she lovingly saved in a biscuit tin.
Not for herself, mind—she didn’t need much. It was all for her only son, William, her daughter-in-law, Millie, and their daughter, little Sophie. Her son and his wife lived three hours away in the city and visited regularly. They didn’t help with the garden or animals, but they never missed a chance to fill their car with home-grown goods. Sometimes they packed the trunk so full the car sagged under its weight.
As the years passed, Mary began aging and falling ill. Her back would seize up, her legs would ache, her hands, tired and calloused from work, would cramp, and her blood pressure would spike. Slowly, she started phasing out her livestock and reduced her garden to just a couple of beds; for the rest, she let neighbors plant potatoes. William visited less and less, and Millie stopped going altogether, as there was nothing more to retrieve from Mary.
When Mary’s eyesight started to worsen rapidly, she got scared and called William, asking him to take her to see city doctors. William came and brought his mother to town.
Millie wasn’t too thrilled about having her mother-in-law over but hid it. She invited her to freshen up after the journey and fed her a nice meal. William suggested Mary undergo a full medical check-up. They spent all day at the clinic and then stopped at the pharmacy for medication…
It was too late to return to the village. When Millie found out Mary was staying the night, her disappointment was barely concealed. She headed to the kitchen to prepare dinner, making enough racket with dishes to nearly burst one’s eardrums. An elderly neighbor stopped by for a moment, delighted to see Mary.
“Mary! It’s been ages since we’ve seen you. Staying long? Leave tomorrow already? Come over to mine, let’s have some tea and a good old natter.”
Seeing his mother off to the neighbor’s, William popped into the kitchen to talk to his wife.
“Cooking, are you, Millie? I wanted to have a word while mum’s away.”
“Oh?” Millie’s tone suggested she wasn’t looking forward to this talk.
“Mum’s not doing too well,” William hesitated. “We were at the hospital, and they found quite the list of ailments. She says her legs hurt so much she can barely walk.”
“Well she’s no spring chicken! What did you expect? Old age, you know.”
“That’s my point,” William jumped in eagerly. “Our flat has three bedrooms. Sophie and her husband live in London and aren’t likely to come back. So maybe…”
“Wait, are you suggesting we take her in? Are you out of your mind? Just because we have a three-bedroom flat doesn’t mean we run a care home, William.”
“For your information, these rooms were practically bought with the cherries and strawberries Mum sold every summer,” William noted sharply.
“You’re going to hold that over me now?” Millie lost her temper. “Your mother wasn’t doing it for strangers but for her own son and granddaughter.”
“You’re a tough woman, Millie,” William sighed sadly. “I thought we could bring Mum in and live happily. Her house is solid and could fetch a good price. We could upgrade the car, maybe take a trip to Greece…”
“She can choke on that house for all I care!” Millie yelled. “A week’s holiday abroad, and then I’ll be stuck for ten years caring for her? You think I’m a slave?”
“How can you say such things, you fool?” William flared up, just as Mary appeared at the kitchen door.
A silence fell over the room so thick it seemed like the world was holding its breath.
“Mum, how long have you been standing there?” William stammered.
“Oh, I just came in,” Mary smiled gently. “I needed to grab my glasses. Kate and I are looking at old photo albums. Oh, and I forgot to mention, dear, I’ve decided to move to a care home next month. Do help me with my things, will you?”
William was speechless. Millie, however, started bustling around:
“Of course, he’ll help. I’ll come too. We’ll load up everything you need, move it all. It’s probably for the best. Living with peers is much more fun than being alone.”
The care home district where the caring couple brought Mary gave William mixed feelings. Sure, the staff was fantastic, and the director was a kind-hearted soul. Clearly, the elderly were treated warmly and with care. But the building itself had seen better days; the linoleum in the hallways was worn, drafts came through the windows, and the common room had no more than a broken TV and shabby chairs.
Mary’s little room was small and damp. The bed was saggy, and the chairs wobbly. But Mary didn’t show any dismay at her surroundings.
“It’s alright, Mum,” William said cheerily. “I’ll get the place fixed up so nice, everyone will be envious. I’ll do it over my next holiday. Alright then, don’t get lonely—we’ll visit soon. Expect us.”
He only remembered his promise half a year later when Millie reminded him they needed to decide on what to do about the family house. Summer was the perfect time to sell.
The director didn’t reproach the infrequent visitors. He spoke very warmly about Mary.
“Before you go upstairs, pop into the common room first. Your mother might be there, watching TV with her friends. I’ll walk you there.”
Mary wasn’t in the common room. As they looked around, Millie let out a low whistle.
“Wow! You’ve spruced this place up. New sofas, armchairs, a TV covering a whole wall. Flowers everywhere. Looks amazing! Was the renovation expensive?”
“It’s thanks to your mother,” the director smiled.
“My mother?” William shook his head. “How does she fit into this?”
“Well, it was all financed by her.”
“Where’d an old lady get so much money?” Millie laughed, then suddenly gasped. “William?! Did she sell the house?”
Mary gazed calmly and smiled at the irate relatives, who bombarded her with reproaches and accused her of selfishness.
“Why are you so upset? I didn’t sell your house, just mine. I have the right. I’m happy here—warmth, good company. I just wanted to give something back to these wonderful people.”
Mary slyly eyed the furious Millie.
“It’s better to sell a house and spread some joy than to choke on it, wouldn’t you say, Millie?”
Millie dropped her gaze and dashed outside. There was nothing more to be done.
