“Dad, meet hershes going to be my wife, your daughter-in-law.”
“Dad, Id like you to meet my future wife, your daughter-in-law, Emily!” beamed Marcus, his face alight with joy.
“What?!” gasped Professor Richard Whitmore, his expression one of disbelief. “If this is a joke, its not the least bit amusing.” He glanced with distaste at the rough hands of the young woman before him, her fingernails caked with dirt. To him, she looked as though shed never heard of soap and water.
*Good heavens! Thank God my dear Margaret didnt live to see this disgrace. We raised this boy with every advantage, every courtesy* he thought bitterly.
“Its no joke!” Marcus said defiantly. “Emilys staying with us, and well be married in three months. If you refuse to come to the wedding, Ill manage without you!”
“Hello!” Emily smiled warmly and strode confidently into the kitchen. “Ive brought some pasties, blackberry jam, dried mushrooms” She listed the items as she pulled them from a worn sack.
Richard clutched his chest as he watched a dollop of jam stain the pristine white tablecloth.
“Marcus, wake up! If this is some twisted revenge, its too cruel Where did you even find this girl? I wont have her in my home!” the professor shouted.
“I love Emily. And my wife has every right to live in my home!” Marcus smirked, his tone mocking.
Richard realized his son was toying with him. He said nothing more, retreating to his study in silence.
Lately, their relationship had soured. After his mothers death, Marcus had become unrulydropping out of university, speaking harshly to his father, living recklessly. Richard had hoped his son would change, return to the bright, kind young man he once was. But with each passing day, Marcus slipped further away. And now, hed brought this country girl into their home. Richard knew he would never approve of the match, yet Marcus had deliberately chosen someone he could never understand.
Soon after, Marcus and Emily married. Richard refused to attend the wedding, unwilling to accept this unwanted daughter-in-law. He seethed, furious that a refined woman like Margarets memory had been replaced by this uncultured girl who could barely string two words together.
Emily, ignoring his disdain, tried to win him overonly making things worse. Richard saw nothing good in her, blinded by his own prejudice against her simple ways.
Marcus, after a brief attempt at respectability, returned to drinking and carousing. Richard often overheard their arguments, secretly hoping Emily would leave.
“Richard, your son wants a divorceand hes throwing me out! Im expecting a child!” Emily burst in one day, tears in her eyes.
“First of all, why the street? Surely you have somewhere to go And pregnancy doesnt grant you the right to stay here after a divorce. Im sorry, but I wont interfere,” Richard said coldly, privately relieved to be rid of her.
Emily, heartbroken and bewildered, packed her things. She couldnt understand why Richard had despised her from the start, nor why Marcus had treated her so cruellylike a stray dog, discarded without a second thought. Just because she was from the countryside didnt mean she lacked a heart.
***
Eight years passed Richard now lived in a retirement home. His health had declined sharply, and Marcus, quick to avoid responsibility, had arranged his admission without hesitation.
The old man had made peace with his fate, knowing there was no going back. He had spent his life teaching thousands about love, respect, and kindness, receiving letters of gratitude from former students. Yet he had failed his own child.
“Richard, youve got visitors,” his roommate announced after a walk.
“Who? Marcus?” Richard exclaimed, though he knew it was impossible. His son despised him.
“Dont know. They asked for you. Go see for yourself!”
Leaning on his cane, Richard shuffled toward the lobby. Halfway down the hall, he froze.
“Hello, Emily,” he murmured, his voice small, guilt heavy in his chest.
“Richard!” The elegant woman gasped. “Youve changed so much Are you ill?”
“A little,” he admitted with a sad smile. “How did you find me?”
“Marcus told me. He still refuses to speak to his son, but the boy keeps asking about his fatherand his grandfather. Jack isnt to blame for your rejection. He needs family.” Her voice trembled. “Forgive me, perhaps I shouldnt have come.”
“Wait!” Richard pleaded. “How is he? The last photo you sent, he was only three.”
“Hes just outside. Shall I call him?”
“Please.”
A fair-haired boy enteredthe very image of Marcus at his age. Jack hesitated before approaching the grandfather hed never met.
“Hello, lad. Look how big youve grown” Richard wept, embracing him.
They spent hours talking, strolling through the autumn leaves in the garden. Emily spoke of her strugglesher mothers early death, raising Jack alone, managing the farm.
“Forgive me, Emily,” Richard said at last. “I was wrong. I thought myself wise, educated, yet only now do I seepeople should be judged by their kindness, not their pedigree.”
“Richard, weve a proposal,” Emily said nervously. “Come live with us. Youre alone, and so are we. Wed love to have you.”
“Grandad, please! Well go fishing, mushroom hunting The countrysides lovely, and theres plenty of room!” Jack squeezed his hand.
“Lets go,” Richard smiled. “I failed with Marcusperhaps I can give Jack what I withheld from my son. And Ive never seen the countryside. Might be just the thing.”
“Youll love it!” Jack laughed.
In the end, Richard learned too late that love, not pride, was the greatest lesson of all.
