An 82-year-old woman was caught shoplifting in a supermarket store

An 82-year-old woman was caught shoplifting in a supermarket. “Please don’t call the police, I don’t want my grandchildren to know”. What happened to her afterward is unbelievable…

The number of people who struggle to make ends meet is way higher that we can even imagine. Not being able to provide for the family is an issue many struggle with, especially these days when the entire world is facing crisis in terms of lack of electricity and inflation. The prices of the basic products get higher and the number of businesses that are forced to shut down grows bigger. Finding a job isn’t as easy it once was. Life is hard for many, especially those who are unable to work because of various reasons.

One 82-year-old grandma was left to take care of her grandchildren. Sadly, because of her age, there was nothing she could do in order to get food. The little money she had wasn’t enough, so she was forced to do something she wasn’t proud of, steal food from a local shop at Via Casilina in Ferentino, Frosinone, Italy.

When an employee spotted her putting canned food in her bag, they confronted her. The grandma was scared and begged them not to call the police. “Please don’t call the cops; I don’t want my grandkids to know,” she kept repeating.

She then explained that she struggled to provide food for her grandchildren as tears rolled down her face.

The store manager was deeply touched by her story. Not only he didn’t call the police, but he let her take anything that she needed. He even told her to stop by whenever she needed food.

“Come grab what you need anytime you want; a few euros don’t matter anything to me,” he said.

We are glad there are still people there as considerate and as caring as this market owner.

My Maid of Honor Declined to Wear the Dress I Selected for Her – Her Alternative Outfit at My Wedding Astonished Me

When Jessie’s maid of honor, Emily, showed up in a dress that Jessie didn’t pick, her picture-perfect wedding day took an unexpected turn. Emily’s shocking attire sparked chaos, setting the stage for some sweet payback.

Hey everyone, Jessie here! Two weeks ago, I married the love of my life, Kevin. It should’ve been the happiest day ever, right? Well, thanks to my so-called best friend, let’s just say it became a story for the ages — and not in a good way.

Emily, my supposed best friend, the woman I’d chosen as my maid of honor, managed to steal the spotlight in the most outrageous way possible…

Emily and I have been best friends since we were knee-high to a grasshopper. We practically grew up together.

Now, don’t get me wrong, Emily’s a great friend, supportive and always there for me. But there’s this one tiny, well, not-so-tiny detail about her — she’s a tad competitive.

It started small, you know, harmless races on the playground to see who could reach the swings first. In high school, it was all about grades—who could snag the highest GPA.

Then came college, and suddenly, it was about who could throw the most epic birthday bash. You name it, we “competed” at it. But hey, that was all in good fun, right? Or so I thought.

Despite her win-at-all-costs streak and arrogance, we always managed to stay close. I never really saw it as a competition; I just figured a little healthy rivalry pushed us both to be better.

We navigated life together, from scraped knees on the playground to the corporate jungle of our careers.

And when my boyfriend Kevin popped the question, there was no doubt in my mind who’d be my maid of honor—Emily, obviously.

Planning the wedding was a whirlwind of excitement. I wanted everything perfect, down to the last detail. Romantic elegance was the theme, with soft hues of lavender and blush creating a dreamy spring garden vibe.

The bridesmaids’ dresses were a beautiful shade of lavender, the perfect complement to the whole aesthetic. I mean, I was paying for everything, dresses included, so naturally, I wanted everyone to look stunning and harmonious.

The day of the final fitting arrived, and Emily came over, all smiles and sunshine.

But as soon as she saw the dress I’d picked for her, her smile completely vanished. She held the lavender fabric at arm’s length like it was some kind of contagious disease.

“Uh, Jess,” she mumbled, “I don’t think I can wear this.”

“What? Why not?” I furrowed my brow, completely confused. This was the dress we’d all picked out together, the one everyone agreed on. And it was gorgeous.

“This color just washes me out,” she whined. “I’ll look like a ghost in it.”

Honestly, that was a stretch. The dress would look amazing on her, like it was practically made for her curves. But Emily was never one to back down from an argument, especially when it came to “winning.”

“Come on, Em,” I tried to reassure her, “it’s the same dress everyone else is wearing. You would look beautiful, trust me.”

But she wasn’t having it. She huffed and puffed, making a scene about how unflattering the dress was and how she just couldn’t possibly walk down the aisle looking like a pale ghost.

My patience started to wear thin, but you know how it is with bridesmaids, especially your best friend. You just don’t want any drama, right? So, I caved.

I reluctantly agreed to let her pick out another dress, hoping she’d at least choose something that wouldn’t clash with the whole lavender theme.

Fast forward to the wedding day. Everything was picture-perfect — the flowers, the venue, even the weather cooperated and decided to bless us with a beautiful spring day.

Butterflies danced in my stomach as I stood at the altar, waiting for the music to cue the bridal party entrance. My bridesmaids walked down the aisle one by one, looking stunning in their lavender dresses, just as planned.

Then came Emily’s turn.

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