**Diary Entry A Lesson in Acceptance**
“Dad, meet my future wifeyour daughter-in-law, Emily!” Robert beamed with joy, his face alight with happiness.
“What?!” exclaimed Professor Edward Whitmore, his voice laced with disbelief. “If this is a joke, it’s not remotely funny.” His gaze lingered on Emilys rough hands, dirt caked under her nails, as though shed never seen soap in her life. *Good Lord, thank heavens my dear Margaret isnt alive to see this disgrace. We raised him with the finest manners,* he thought bitterly.
“Its no joke!” Robert declared boldly. “Emilys staying with us, and were marrying in three months. If you wont attend the wedding, Ill manage without you.”
“Hello!” Emily smiled warmly and strode confidently into the kitchen. “Brought some Cornish pasties, blackberry jam, dried mushrooms” She listed off the contents of her worn-out bag.
Edward clutched his chest as the pristine tablecloth was smeared with jam. “Robert, wake up! If this is revenge, its too cruel. Where did you even find this simpleton? Shes not staying under my roof!”
“I love Emily. And my wife has every right to live here!” Robert smirked, clearly mocking him.
Understanding his sons defiance, Edward stormed off in silence. Lately, their relationship had soured. Since Margarets death, Robert had spiraleddropping out of Oxford, speaking rudely, living recklessly. Edward had hoped hed return to the bright, kind man he once was. But each day drove them further apart. And now thisbringing home some country girl, knowing full well her presence was a slap in the face.
They married soon after. Edward refused to attend, repulsed by the idea of this unrefined woman replacing his elegant Margaret. Emily, oblivious or indifferent to his disdain, tried to win him overonly making it worse.
Robert, playing the dutiful husband briefly, returned to drinking and carousing. Edward secretly relished their arguments, praying Emily would leave.
“Professor Whitmore, your sons divorcing methrowing me out! And Im pregnant!” Emily burst in one day, tears streaming.
“First, why the streets? Youve got family, surely. And pregnancy doesnt grant you rights here post-divorce. I wont interfere,” he said coldly, inwardly relieved to be rid of her.
Bewildered and heartbroken, Emily packed her things. She couldnt fathom Edwards hatred or Roberts cruelty. So what if she was a farmers daughter? She had a soul, too.
***
Eight years passed. Edward, frail and neglected, was shoved into a care home by Robert, who wanted no burdens. Resigned, Edward accepted his fate. Hed taught thousands about love and respect, received grateful letters from former students yet failed his own child.
“Edward, youve a visitor,” his roommate announced after a stroll.
“Who? Robert?” Edward croaked, though he knew better. His son would never come.
“Dunno. Asked me to fetch you. Go on, then!”
Leaning on his cane, Edward hobbled toward the lobby. At the foot of the stairs, he froze.
“Hello, Emily,” he whispered, guilt swelling in his chest.
“Professor Whitmore! Youve changed. Are you ill?”
“A bit,” he admitted weakly. “How did you find me?”
“Robert mentioned it. He refuses to see our son, but the boyJameskeeps asking for his father, his grandfather Hes innocent in all this.” Her voice trembled. “Forgive me, I shouldnt have come.”
“Wait! How is James? The last photo you sent, he was three.”
“Hes here, by the entrance. Shall I?”
“Please.”
A shy, auburn-haired boy enteredRoberts spitting image. James approached cautiously, eyeing the grandfather hed never met.
“Hello, lad. Look how tall youve grown” Edward wept, pulling him into an embrace.
They talked for hours, strolling the care homes autumnal gardens. Emily shared her strugglesher mothers early death, raising James alone, managing the farm.
“Forgive me, Emily. I was a fool. All my education, yet I judged people by class, not character.”
“Professor weve an offer,” she said nervously. “Come live with us. Youre alone, and so are we. Wed love to have family nearby.”
“Granddad, please! Well go fishing, mushroom hunting The countrysides lovely, and theres plenty of room!” James pleaded, clutching his hand.
“Lets go,” Edward smiled. “I failed Robert. Maybe I can give James what I withheld from my son. Besides Ive never seen the countryside. Might grow on me.”
“It will!” James giggled.
**Lesson learned:** Pride blinds us to the worth in others. Sometimes, redemption comes from the very people we once dismissed.
