A woman came across a wallet while sweeping the street and decided to track its owner and return it. The events that followed were intriguing, to say the least.
Sandra was a young woman whose fate had never been on her side. She had been orphaned at a young age and had lost her family in a car accident, leaving her traumatized for a long time.
As time went on, she somehow sympathized with her destiny and started looking for means to support herself. But sadly, the only job that she could manage to get was that of a street sweeper. The job didn’t pay well, but she could at least afford a place to live and three meals a day.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
As Sandra started cleaning the road one day, she saw a wallet lying at the edge of the road. Out of curiosity, she stopped sweeping and began investigating its contents. She discovered that the wallet was mostly empty, with only a few dollars and a letter that appeared to have been read several times a day for years.
On the torn envelope of the letter, everything was blurred out except for the return address. She cautiously opened it, taking care not to tear the delicate paper, and discovered that it had been written in 1959. A 60-year-old letter? It must have been quite special to the owner, she wondered.
Some words in the letter had faded, but Sandra could thankfully read most of it.
“Dear Lewis,” the letter began. “My mother forbade me to meet and said that you and I could not be together, but I want you to know that I love you. Love, Nancy Ar…” Unfortunately, the paper was torn at the edge, and Sandra could not read it.
Thinking that it was pretty special for its owner, Sandra decided to track him down and return it. She went to the phone exchange operator to inquire about the phone number indicated with the return address and was soon connected to someone who lived there.
“Hello, my name is Sandra. May I speak to Nancy?”
“I’m sorry but no one by the name of Nancy lives here,” the woman on the line replied.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“Actually, maybe you can help me. I found a wallet and wanted to return it to its owner. There was a letter inside the wallet and I got this phone number from the return address on the letter, so I assumed the person who wrote the letter lived there.” Sandra explained. “The woman’s name is Nancy.”
“Are you talking about Nancy Arnolds?” the woman inquired.
“Well, I’m not sure if her last name is Arnolds, but I think it’s her. Do you have her contact information or know where I might be able to find her?” Sandra inquired.
“Actually, we bought the house from her mother 20 years ago. She was staying at a nursing home then. If you want, I can give you the nursing home’s contact number; you can write it down.”
Sandra thanked the woman and immediately called the nursing home. There she was informed that Nancy’s mother had passed away, but her daughter was still alive and staying there.
Sandra quickly hired a cab and headed to the location. When she met Nancy and showed her the letter she had found, Nancy’s eyes welled up. “I can’t believe he has kept it safe until now. By the way, where did you find this?”
“Well, it was inside the wallet I found on the road. By any chance, do you recognize this?” Sandra showed the wallet.
“I don’t know about the wallet, but this letter, I wrote the letter for Lewis — Lewis Duncan,” Nancy said. “We met in college, and I wanted to marry him and start a family, but my mother was against it because, just like my father, Lewis was not well off. After my mom married my father, he began living off my mother’s wealth, and when mom objected, he threatened that he would harm me.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash
“Mom resisted for a long time and then divorced him. Sadly, she never had a happy married life, and she feared the same would happen to me. As a result, she despised Lewis and my relationship. But if you find him, please let him know that I still love him and never married. I always hoped he’d come and find me, and I am still waiting.” Nancy burst into tears as she finished.
Sandra consoled her and promised she would find Lewis, but deep down, she was scared that wouldn’t happen. Nancy was the only way Sandra could contact him, but Nancy had no idea about him because she hadn’t seen him since she was transferred to the nursing home.
Dejected, Sandra left the nursing home and decided to drop the wallet at the police station, but as she stepped outside, the security guard interrupted her. “Are you Nancy’s relative?”
“No, actually…” Sandra began speaking when the guard interrupted her again. “Wait, isn’t that Mr. Duncan’s wallet?”
Sandra was taken aback. “Yes, it is! Do you know him?”
“Yes, he lives in the building next to the nursing home,” the guard replied. “The man is pretty old and keeps misplacing his wallet. Actually, don’t tell Nancy, but he frequently visits just to see her. That’s how I know him.”
Sandra’s happiness knew no bounds when she heard that, she went to Mr. Duncan and returned the wallet. He was glad that the letter was safe.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“I’m sorry, Mr. Duncan, but I read that letter,” Sandra admitted shyly. “And I have a question if you don’t mind me asking.”
Mr. Duncan smiled warmly at her. “Ask anything, young lady. You returned the most valuable item to me. I don’t mind if the wallet was lost, but the letter is very close to my heart.”
“Then why don’t you meet Miss Arnolds? The guard told me everything. She couldn’t stop crying when she saw the letter. Do you know that she never married and has been waiting for the day she’ll meet you again?”
Mr. Duncan’s eyes almost welled up. He said he was devastated when he received this letter and resolved that he would never marry anyone because he loved Nancy. However, he had no idea that Nancy wasn’t married either.
Sandra took him to her and left them alone for a while. They cried and hugged, and Sandra’s eyes welled up when she saw them like that. It brought back memories of how she and her husband Edward met. She sobbed as she walked out of the nursing home.
A year later, she received a wedding invitation. It was an invite to Nancy and Lewis’ wedding.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
What can we learn from this story?
- Matches are made in heaven. Nancy and Lewis were destined to be together, and that is exactly what happened.
- Some accidents are beautiful. Sandra found the wallet accidentally and returned it to the owner. Eventually, it led to the reunion of two lovers.
Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.
If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a homeless woman who found $1 million in a trash can.
This account is inspired by our reader’s story and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.
My Mother-in-Law Moved in with Us After Her House Was Flooded – I Was Shocked When I Discovered Her True Motive
When my mother-in-law moved into our home without warning, I thought it was just about a plumbing issue. Turns out, she had another mission. And let me tell you, her tactics were more relentless than I ever imagined.
I came home that evening after a long, exhausting day, craving nothing more than peace and quiet. But as soon as I opened the door, I knew something was wrong. There were boxes everywhere. My heart skipped a beat.
I dropped my bag by the door, carefully stepping over a pile of shoes, and followed the trail of clutter down the hall. That’s when I saw her. My mother-in-law, Jane, was in the guest room, unpacking like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Clothes were strewn across the bed. Her flowery perfume clung to the air, and photos of her cats had already claimed the nightstand.
“Mom?” My voice was tight, a forced calm. “What’s going on?”
Without so much as glancing in my direction, she waved a hand, casually saying, “Oh, didn’t Joe tell you? My house had a little ‘incident.’ Pipes burst and flooded the whole place. I’ll be staying here for a while until it’s sorted.”
I blinked. Flooding? That didn’t sound right. She lived in a freshly renovated house, nothing but top-tier everything. I hadn’t heard a single complaint about it until now.
Before I could even begin to process, Joe appeared behind me. He looked guilty, eyes darting anywhere but at me. “Yeah… about that.” He rubbed the back of his neck, awkwardly shifting his weight. “Mom’s gonna stay with us for a bit. Just until the house gets fixed.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me?” I asked, my glare piercing.
He shrugged like it was no big deal. “It’s only for a little while, babe. You and Mom get along, right?”
Get along? If by “get along,” he meant the passive-aggressive remarks about how we’d been married for six years and still hadn’t given her any grandkids, then sure. We were best friends. But I plastered on a smile, the kind you give when you’re two seconds away from snapping. “Of course. I totally understand.”
Hours later, after I’d pretended everything was fine, I got up for some water. As I passed the kitchen, I heard them talking in hushed voices.
“You didn’t tell her the real reason, did you?” Jane’s voice was sharp, like a knife slicing through the night.
Joe sighed. “No, Mom. I didn’t.”
“Well,” Jane huffed, “I’m here to keep an eye on things. Married this long with no children… someone’s got to figure out what’s going on. Don’t worry, I’ll handle it.”
My stomach twisted. This wasn’t about pipes. She was here to snoop. To pressure me about kids. To “handle” me. I stood frozen in the hallway, blood boiling. What the hell had I just walked into?
The next morning, I woke up with a plan. If Jane wanted to play her little game, I’d play mine. But I wasn’t going to get into a battle of wits with her. No, I was going to kill her with kindness. By 8 a.m., I had already started phase one of my “operation.”
I cleared out our entire master bedroom. Every piece of clothing, every picture frame, every trace of Joe and me was stuffed into the tiny guest room. I even found Jane’s favorite floral bedspread from the back of the linen closet and spread it over the bed like I was preparing a five-star hotel suite.
When I was done, I stood in the doorway, surveying my work. The bedspread was pristine, her cat pictures were lined up on the dresser, and to top it off, I made a “Welcome to Your New Home” basket. Bath bombs, lavender-scented candles, fancy chocolates.
By the time Joe got home from work, I was already sitting in the cramped guest room, arranging our clothes into whatever space I could find. He walked in, his forehead creased with confusion. “Why are you in here?” He peeked around the corner. “Where’s our stuff?”
“Oh, I moved everything,” I said, turning to him with the sweetest smile I could muster. “Your mom deserves the master bedroom, don’t you think? It’s only fair. She needs the space more than we do.”
His eyes widened in disbelief. “You… gave her our bedroom?”
“Of course,” I said with a grin. “She’s family, after all. We’ll be just fine in here.”
Joe stood there, mouth half open, processing what I’d done. But what could he say? Jane was his mother, and I wasn’t technically doing anything wrong. He sighed and walked out of the room without another word.
For the next few days, I made sure Jane was living like royalty. Fresh towels every morning, little snacks placed on the nightstand, and those lavender candles I knew she loved.
She wandered around the house like she owned the place, smiling at me like she’d won. But while Jane was lounging in luxury, Joe was starting to crack. Sharing the guest room was driving him nuts. Not just the lack of space, but his mom’s new obsession with prepping him for fatherhood.
Every morning, without fail, she’d hand him a schedule of vitamins.
“You need to take these, Joe,” she’d say, thrusting a multivitamin at him. “It’s important to get your body ready if you want healthy kids.”
Joe would roll his eyes but take the pills just to keep her quiet.
It didn’t stop there. “Should you really be watching TV at night?” she’d ask over dinner. “That’s not very baby-friendly. You should be reading parenting books. Or exercising. And no more video games! You need to mature, Joe. Fatherhood is serious.”
By day four, I found Joe sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at a stack of parenting books his mom had ordered online.
“I think I’m losing it,” he muttered, holding up a book titled “What To Expect When You’re Expecting.” “She expects me to read this.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Well, Joe,” I said, suppressing a laugh, “you did say we’d be just fine, didn’t you?”
It was relentless. Jane had taken things up a notch. One evening, she handed Joe a neatly typed list of “fertility-boosting” foods. Kale, quinoa, grilled salmon—no more burgers, no more pizza. She smiled sweetly as if she was doing him the world’s greatest favor.
“Your future kids will thank you,” she chirped.
Joe stared at the list like it was a death sentence. “Wait, no pizza? Ever?”
“That’s right, dear,” she said, patting his shoulder. “I’ve planned all your meals for the week. You’ll feel so much better once you start eating clean.”
That night at dinner, we sat around the table eating dry salmon and tasteless kale. Jane watched Joe like a hawk, her eyes flicking from his plate to his face. He shifted uncomfortably, picking at his food.
“Joe,” she started, “did you take your vitamins this morning?”
He sighed, stabbing a fork into the kale. “Yeah, Mom. I took them.”
“And what about the gym? Did you make time for that? You know, you’ve put on a little weight. It’s important to be in shape if you want to be a good father.”
I couldn’t help it. I kicked him under the table to stop myself from bursting out laughing. He shot me a look, his expression torn between frustration and desperation. After days of this, it was finally getting to him.
Later that night, once Jane had gone to bed, Joe turned to me, rubbing his temples. His voice was low, almost pleading. “I can’t do this anymore, Tiana. The guest room, the vitamins, the baby talk… I’m going insane.”
I bit my lip, trying to suppress a smile. “You have to admit,” I said, failing to keep the amusement out of my voice, “it’s kind of funny.”
His eyes narrowed. “It’s not funny.”
I let out a small laugh. “Okay, okay, it’s a little funny.”
Joe groaned and collapsed onto the bed. “I booked her a room at the hotel down the street. I can’t take another day of this.”
The next morning, he broke the news at breakfast.
“Mom, I’ve booked you a nice hotel nearby until the repairs at your house are done. You’ll be much more comfortable there.”
She blinked, clearly surprised. “But I’m perfectly fine here! And besides, isn’t it time you two got serious about giving me grandkids?”
Joe’s jaw clenched. “Mom, we’ll decide that when we’re ready. For now, the hotel is best for everyone.”
For a moment, Jane just stared at him. Then, realizing she had no leg to stand on, she reluctantly nodded. “Well… if you insist.”
By the end of the day, she was gone. The house was ours again.
As the door clicked shut behind her, Joe collapsed onto the couch with a dramatic sigh of relief. “Finally.”
I grinned, sinking down beside him. “So… kale for dinner?”
He groaned. “Never again.”
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