“What are you staring at, old man?” snapped the privileged 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 already setting, painting the sky in crimson and gold, as a sleek black SUV sped down the wide freeway cutting through the heart of the city. Its powerful engine roared like a freed beast, tires barely grazing the asphalt, leaving only a faint trail of dust. Behind the wheel sat Igoryoung, ambitious, dressed in an expensive suit, with a briefcase on the passenger seat. Every gesture radiated determination, every thought fixated on one goal: a crucial meeting with a powerful businessman that could change his career forever.
These negotiations had dragged on for monthsendless calls, messages, attempts to reach a deal. But now the moment of truth had come. Igor felt his heart poundingnot from fear, but from anticipation, the thrill of standing on the brink of something great. He couldnt afford to be late. No way. He could already picture signing the contract, toasting to success, earning respect in the business world.
Then, at the most critical moment, his phone rang. “Mom” flashed on the screen. Igor clenched his teeth. He knewif he didnt answer, shed call again and again, as always. Reluctantly, he picked up.
“Hi, Mom, Im driving,” he snapped, forcing calm into his voice, though irritation seeped through.
“Igoryok, listen,” came her familiar, nagging voice. “Lida and I went to the salon. Can you believe the cosmetologist told her she has skin like a twenty-year-old? And I, by the way”
“Mom, I dont have time right now!” he cut in, pressing the gas harder. “Im on the highway, heading to an important meeting!”
“Oh, the highway?” she suddenly perked up. “Then, sweetie, buy me some fresh eggs, okay? There are always grandmas selling them roadsideorganic, farm-fresh. Ill make you dumplings!”
Igor rolled his eyes. Eggs? Now? His mind had no room for homemade sour cream, grandma’s recipes, or dumplings. He was immersed in numbers, strategies, million-dollar deals. Just to end the call, he bit out:
“Fine, Mom, Ill get them. Just leave me alone.”
He hung up, frustration boiling inside. How could she be so out of touch? He was on the verge of greatness, and she was asking for eggs!
Minutes later, he spotted an elderly couple by the roadsidesitting on folding chairs beside a woven basket. Igor slowed, hoping to see eggs. But insteadshiny black currants, glistening like jewels in the sunlight. The old man, in a weathered cap and tired but kind eyes, looked up.
“Son, look at these berries!” he called with a smile. “Fresh, juicy, straight from the garden! Packed with vitamins! Make jamyoull remember it fondly in winter!”
Igor grimaced. Why would he need currants? He didnt make jam. He didnt even know what to do with them. He didnt understand wasting time on such trivialities. But remembering his promise, he decided to checkmaybe they had eggs.
“Grandpa, do you have eggs?” he asked, forcing politeness.
“No, son, not today. But these currantstop quality! Try one, on the house!”
Igor shook his head. The old man persisted:
“Youre missing out. These berries are like medicine. Good for the heart, cleans the blood, warms the soul. I eat a handful every daykeeps me going.”
The young mans irritation flared. What did he care about some old mans heart? Hed wasted precious time, and this geezer wouldnt stop yapping about currants like it was the most important thing in the world.
“Grandpa, Im in a hurry!” he snapped. “I dont have time for this!”
In a burst of anger, he lashed outkicking the bucket. Berries exploded like black fireworks. The old man cried out, stumbled, and fell hard, his head hitting the buckets edge with a dull thud.
“Oh, God! Grandpa!” shrieked nearby grandmas, rushing to him.
Igor turned. His heart stopped. The old man lay motionless, eyes closed, face pale. One woman tried lifting him, another dialed someone with shaking hands.
“Whats wrong with him?” Igor asked, a chill running down his spine.
“You dare ask?!” a woman yelled, jabbing a finger at him. “You knocked him over! His hearts been weaknow this?! He survives selling these berries, and you ruined them! Wholl buy now?”
The ground seemed to tilt under Igors feet. He hadnt meant to hurt anyonejust lost his temper. But now… he mightve caused real harm. He couldnt just leave.
“Wheres the nearest hospital?” he demanded, pulling out his phone.
“Twenty kilometers ahead, right side,” a woman said. “Hurry, or he wont make it!”
Without hesitation, Igor lifted the old manlight as a birdand laid him in the backseat. The car shot forward as if sensing every second counted. Eggs? Dumplings? The meeting? Gone. Only one thing mattered nowsaving him.
At the hospital, chaos erupted. The doctors recognized the old man instantly.
“Grandpa Vasily! Hes on our recordsarrhythmia, pressure spikes! Get him to ICU!”
Igor stood frozen. He didnt know the mans name, his story. But now, he was responsible. The doctors questioned himhe admitted everything, hiding nothing.
“We need to call his wife,” a nurse said. “She needs to know.”
Half an hour later, a trembling, tearful woman arrivedhis wife. The grandmas had called her.
“Was it you?” she whispered, staring at Igor.
“I didnt mean…” He faltered.
“Never mind,” she sighed. “Just keep him alive.”
The diagnosisa heart attack. The stress, the fall, the impactall too much. But he had a chance. Expensive, rare drugs were needed. Without hesitation, Igor handed over his card.
“Ill cover everythingtreatment, medication.”
He spent an hour at the pharmacy, arguing, demanding urgency. Used to luxury, hed never done anything like this for a stranger.
When it was done, he stepped outside. Night had fallen. His phone showed 12 missed calls from Mom. He sighed, dialed.
“Igoryok, are you alive?!” she shrieked. “I nearly lost my mind! You werent at that café, right?”
“What café?”
“The one for your meeting! It burned down todaygone in minutes! Everyone inside… dead! I saw the news! I called and calledwhy didnt you answer? I thought you were there!”
Igor went cold. The meeting time… Hed been late. Speeding, kicking a bucket, driving an old man to the hospital. Hed lost his chancebut that chance had saved him.
The next morning, the news listed the dead. Among themhis potential business partner. The man hed hoped to sign with. Without the old man, the currants, his outburst… Igor wouldve been there. Hed be dead.
The next day, he visited the hospital. The old man was awakeweak but alive.
“Forgive me,” Igor said, bowing his head. “I was cruel. I didnt understand…”
“Ah, son,” the old man murmured. “Lifes different for everyone. My roof leaks, my wifes sick, neighbors wont help. I sell currants for medicine, for bread. Workers took my money, never fixed the roof. Then you… kicked the bucket. But maybe fate turned things around.”
Something inside Igor broke. Successful, wealthy, confidenthed never seen this side of life. Where people scraped by, where an old man sold berries to keep his wife alive, where one moment could cost everything.
He didnt just apologize. He did more.
“Ill pay for your wifes treatment. Hire a nurse. Get real workerstheyll fix your roof. Properly. My expense.”
The old man stared, disbelieving.
“Why?”
“Because you saved my life,” Igor said softly. “If not for you… Id be dead. Instead, I nearly killed you. Now I owe you.”
From that day, Igor changed. Kinder, more attentive, more human. He learned success isnt in moneybut in actions. That the most important meetings are unplanned. That sometimes fate knocks in the shape of an old man with a bucket of currants. And if you dont kick it over… it might just open a new life.
