“What are you staring at, old man?” sneered the arrogant rich kid, kicking over a bucket of berries. But when he realized WHO this “just some old guy” by the highway really washis life split into BEFORE and AFTER.
The sun was sinking, painting the sky crimson and gold, as a sleek black SUV sped down the wide freeway cutting through the city. Its engine roared like a wild beast, tires barely grazing the asphalt, leaving a faint trail of dust. Behind the wheel sat Igoryoung, ambitious, dressed in an expensive suit, a briefcase on the passenger seat. Every gesture radiated determination, every thought zeroed in on one goal: the crucial meeting with a powerful businessman that could change his career forever.
Months of negotiationsendless calls, emails, back-and-forthhad led to this moment. Igors heart pounded, not from fear, but from the thrill of standing on the brink of something huge. He couldnt afford to be late. Not now. He pictured signing the contract, toasting to success, his name respected in boardrooms.
Then his phone rang. “Mom” flashed on the screen. Igor gritted his teeth. If he ignored her, shed keep calling. Reluctantly, he answered.
“Hey, Mom, I’m driving,” he snapped, straining for calm.
“Igoryok, listen, I was at the salon with Lida” came her familiar, nagging voice. “The cosmetologist said her skin looks twenty years younger! And I”
“Mom, I dont have time!” he cut in, pressing the gas harder. “Im on the highway, heading to a huge meeting!”
“Oh, the highway?” she perked up. “Then pick up some farm eggs, will you? The grannies sell them roadsidefresh, organic! Ill make dumplings!”
Igor rolled his eyes. Eggs? Now? His mind was on numbers, strategies, million-dollar deals. To end the call faster, he muttered, “Fine, Ill get them. Just drop it.”
Hanging up, irritation bubbled inside. How could she be so oblivious? He was on the verge of greatness, and she wanted eggs?
Minutes later, he spotted an elderly couple by the roadsidea man and woman on folding chairs beside a woven basket. Slowing down, he hoped for eggs. Instead, glossy black currants glimmered like jewels in the sun.
The old man, in a worn cap, looked up with tired but kind eyes. “Son, look at these berries! Fresh, juicy, straight from the garden! Full of vitaminsmake jam, remember winter fondly!”
Igor frowned. What would he do with currants? He didnt make jam. He barely cooked. But remembering his promise, he asked, “Got any eggs?”
“Not today,” the man chuckled. “But try a berryon the house!”
Igor shook his head. The old man persisted. “Youre missing out! This stuffs medicinestrengthens the heart, cleans the blood. I eat a handful dailykeeps me going!”
Annoyance flared. Who cared about an old mans heart? Igor had wasted precious time. “I dont have time for this!” he snappedthen, impulsively, kicked the bucket. Berries scattered like black spray. The old man cried out, stumbled, and hit the asphalt hard, his head striking the buckets edge.
“Grandpa!” shrieked the women flocking to him.
Igor turned. His heart stopped. The man lay motionless, pale. One woman shook him, another dialed with trembling hands.
“Whats wrong?” Igor asked, ice creeping down his spine.
“You did this!” a woman yelled, jabbing a finger. “Hes sickweak heart! This currants keep him alive! And youruined it!”
The ground seemed to tilt. He hadnt meant to hurt anyone. But nowhe might have. He couldnt leave.
“Wheres the nearest hospital?” he demanded, pulling out his phone.
“Twenty kilometersright off the highway,” a woman said. “Hurry, or he wont make it!”
Without hesitation, Igor lifted the frail man into the backseat. The car surged forward as if sensing the urgency. Eggs? Dumplings? The meeting? Gone. Only one thought remained: save him.
At the hospital, chaos erupted. The staff recognized the old man instantly”Grandpa Vasily, on file for arrhythmia!”and rushed him to ICU. Igor stood numb, answering doctors questions honestly.
Soon, a weeping old woman arrivedhis wife. “You did this?” she whispered.
“I didnt mean to”
“Just… keep him alive,” she pleaded.
Doctors diagnosed a heart attackstress, the fall, the impact. Expensive meds were needed. Igor pulled out his card. “Ill cover everything.”
An hour later, prescriptions in hand, he stepped outside. Dark now. His phone showed 12 missed calls from Mom. He called back.
“Igoryok, are you alive?!” she screamed. “That caféit burned down! Everyone inside died! I thought you were there!”
Igor froze. His meeting timehed missed it. Racing to the hospital had saved him. Next morning, news listed the deadincluding his would-be business partner. Without the old man, the currants, his own rage hed be dead.
The next day, he visited the hospital. Grandpa Vasily was weak but awake.
“Forgive me,” Igor said. “I didnt understand”
“Lifes different for everyone,” the old man sighed. “Leaky roof, sick wife, neighbors who wont help. I sell berries to survive. Then you… kicked the bucket. But maybe fate had plans.”
Something in Igor broke. Successful, wealthyhed never seen this struggle. Where every ruble mattered, where survival hinged on a bucket of currants.
He didnt just apologize. He did more.
“Ill pay for your wifes treatment,” he said. “Hire a nurse. Fix your roofproperly. My expense.”
The old man stared. “Why?”
“Because you saved my life. If not for you, Id be dead. Instead, I almost killed you. Now I owe you.”
From that day, Igor changed. Kinder. More human. He learned success isnt wealthits actions. That lifes most important meetings are unplanned. Sometimes fate knocks as an old man with a bucket of currants. And if you dont kick it it might just lead you to a new life.
