The woman was over seventy. Widowed early, she had raised three children alone. Now each had a happy life and big houses, yet they seldomly visited. When she once fell ill and called, her eldest son told her to take a taxi, the daughter said she was busy with grandkids, and the youngest explained himself with endless business trips.
Alone in her small house, nights passed with only the ticking clock and the wind through the door cracks. One evening she cried before her husband’s altar:
“I don’t have much time left, yet none of them care about me.”
An idea came—she would test their love.
From the next day, she pretended to be messy: mixing names, swapping meals, even standing dreamily in the street. Soon news of her “madness” spread. The three children hurried home, not with concern but conflicts.
The eldest asserted she should go to a nursing home, the daughter declared she was too busy, and the youngest suggested pooling her pension to send her away. Her heart broke, but she silently agreed. In the nursing home, she waited by the door every day. Visits were rare, and many nights she regretted her cruel test—because the truth was even harsher than loneliness.
Five years passed. She was diagnosed with terminal can:cer. Her children hurried over, not out of love, but desire. “Did she leave property?” the eldest asked. “Has she written a will?” the daughter added. The staff refused, handing them an envelope she left behind.
Inside was a note:
“My dear children,
I was never confused. I strained only to see how much love kept, but all I found was indifference. I paid for the nursing home myself. The house you hoped for—I sold it years ago to develop a small school in our village, so poor children could learn that affection is worth more than wealth. By the time you read this, I may already be with your father. Live well, and don’t let money blind you.”
Astonished, they rushed to her room, but she was gone. On the table lay her notebook, carefully recording each penny spent on the school.
Returning home, they found only emptiness. Though high in possessions, they revealed they had lost forever the greatest treasure—a mother’s love.
