I’m Debbie, a 60-year-old mother and grandmother. My greatest joy was spending time with my granddaughter, Olivia. But everything changed the day my daughter, Emily, told me I wasn’t welcome in her home anymore.
She said I didn’t fit in—too poor, too simple, too embarrassing for their fancy neighborhood. Her husband, Greg, made it clear I didn’t belong. I left quietly, tears streaming down my face as I drove my old car home.
Weeks passed. I stayed away, but not by choice. I would park near Olivia’s preschool just to see her from a distance. Every time she looked around, my heart shattered—was she searching for me?
Then came an unexpected phone call. Mr. Peters, an elderly man I’d helped for years at the grocery store, had passed away—and left me half a million dollars in his will. He said I made him feel human again. I was stunned.