After the spoiled heir of the estate, which Arthur had cared for for decades, cruelly fired him, the humiliated gardener visited a special garden for the last time. As he reminisced, Arthur noticed something strange that led him to a discovery that would change his life.
He was kneeling in the east garden, his hands buried in the fresh soil, when Margaret, from the kitchen staff, hurried over, her face flushed with concern.
“A woman running through a garden | Source: Midjourney”
“Arthur, have you heard? Mr. Stuart is coming home today. He’s going to take charge of everything.”
I nodded slowly, carefully placing another plant in the soil. “Yes, I’ve heard.”
I had been dreading this day since the old Mr. Jared passed away. For years, I had tended these grounds and watched the change of seasons from behind my wheelbarrow, pruners in hand.
“A wheelbarrow full of pruned foliage and gardening tools | Source: Pexels”
This estate knew my footsteps better than any other place in the world. And now Stuart was coming home to claim his inheritance.
“What will become of us?” Margaret asked, her voice small before the vastness of the estate.
“We’ll do our job,” I said simply. “It’s all we can do.”
“A man transplanting a young plant | Source: Pexels”
What I didn’t say was how my heart ached when I thought of Jared. He wasn’t just my boss; he was my friend.
We had spent countless hours working side by side in the small garden behind the main house. There, among the climbing roses and stubborn weeds, we shared stories, silence, and laughter.
“Grandpa, I finished my homework. Can I help with the planting?”
“A smiling teenager talking to someone | Source: Midjourney”
Eli, my 14-year-old grandson, was at the edge of the garden.
Since the accident that took my daughter and her husband two years ago, Eli had been the reason I woke up every morning. He was polite, studious, and avid for books in a way that amazed me.
“Sure, come on. We’re putting in the spring bulbs.”
“Plastic boxes full of bulbs and plants | Source: Pexels”
We worked in comfortable silence until the sound of tires on gravel broke the morning calm. A sleek car stopped in front of the main house, and Stuart got out.
I nodded, watching as Stuart inspected the property. It had been many years since I last saw him, but he had the same air of arrogance and self-sufficiency that he had when he was a rude child who used to pull up the lilies just to annoy me.
“A haughty man next to a luxury car | Source: Midjourney”
“Remember what I told you,” I said quietly. “Be respectful, keep your distance, and…”
“Never let anyone make me feel small,” Eli finished. “I remember, Grandpa.”
The first few weeks with Stuart in charge were worse than I had imagined.
The staff walked on eggshells as he inspected every corner looking for dust and fired people for minor infractions.
“A tense cleaner placing a pair of slippers near a bed | Source: Pexels”
Where Jared had been kind and considerate, his son was impatient and cruel.
“Arthur, right?” Stuart asked one afternoon, as if we hadn’t known each other for years. “The gardener my father was so fond of.”
“Yes, sir,” I replied, stopping my work to look at him.
“These hedges look uneven. And those roses are half-dead,” he declared. “Maybe my father tolerated mediocrity, but I expect excellence.”
“A man inspecting a hedge | Source: Midjourney”
I bit my tongue. “I’ll take care of it right away, sir.”
As he walked away, I took a deep breath and returned to my pruning. I tried to forget Stuart’s criticism and his pretense of not knowing me, but I was worried. I couldn’t afford to lose this job.
A man pruning a plant | Source: Pexels
The weeks turned into months, and each day that passed, Stuart’s parties became louder, and his friends more reckless.
They drove through the gardens in expensive cars, laughing as they knocked over pots and scattered gravel.
The once peaceful estate became a playground for the rich and careless to have fun.
“People partying | Source: Pexels”
One late summer morning, I was about to fertilize the flowerbeds when I heard furious footsteps approaching. Stuart lunged at me, his face red with anger.
My heart sank. Margaret had warned me to stay away from Stuart that morning. Apparently, his latest gold-digging girlfriend had left him to go skiing in Switzerland, and Stuart was furious.
“A man glaring at someone with wide eyes | Source: Midjourney”
I slowly straightened up, my knees cracking in protest. “Good morning, Mr. Stuart.”
“Don’t give me any ‘good mornings.’ Have you seen what happened to my car? Someone scratched the paint. Was it your grandson? That quiet, sneaky boy?”
“Eli was at school yesterday, sir. He’s been there all week for the summer program.”
“Well, someone did it. And since you’re supposed to be watching this place…”
“I’m the gardener, sir. Not security.”
“A man working in a garden | Source: Midjourney”
I instantly regretted my words, but it was too late. Stuart’s face contorted with rage.
“You know what? I’m fed up with your attitude. Do you think just because my father liked you, you’re untouchable? You call this work?” He kicked a pile of weeds I had pulled up. “My dog could rake better than you! You’re just a leftover from my father’s compassion. Consider this your last day. I want you off my property by sunset.”
“A man shouting | Source: Midjourney”
The words hit hard, but I kept a neutral expression. As he walked away, I felt a strange calm wash over me. Maybe it was for the best.
I took off my uniform and headed to the garden Jared and I had cared for together. I hadn’t touched this place since Jared passed away because the memories were too painful.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Jared,” I said as I knelt beside the garden. “The least I can do for you before I leave is pull the weeds.”
“A man in a garden sadly looking at plants | Source: Midjourney”
As I worked, I noticed a patch of earth that had been disturbed.
It wasn’t recent, but I knew this garden like the back of my hand, and someone had been digging here and left half-dead bulbs decaying on the surface.
I dug into the earth with my hands. Soon, I felt a hard surface under my fingers. I cleared the dirt away and soon discovered a small wooden chest, locked with a simple latch.
“A chest in a hole | Source: Midjourney”
My hands trembled as I opened it.
Inside, neatly arranged, were bundles of cash, small gold ingots, and a folded note. I immediately recognized Jared’s handwriting.
“This is for you, my friend. I know you need it. I love you. Your friend, Jared.”
Tears fell onto the paper as I held it to my chest.
“A sad man looking at something | Source: Midjourney”
Even in death, Jared had found a way to take care of us. I couldn’t ignore the cruel irony: being fired had led me to this discovery, this final gift from a true friend.
I left the estate without saying a word to Stuart.
The next day, I went to the bank and opened a safety deposit box. I transferred everything from Jared’s box into it and put it in Eli’s name. Not for now, but for his future.
“Safety deposit boxes | Source: Pexels”
I found work maintaining the gardens at the local high school. They didn’t pay much, but it was honest work, and I could be close to Eli during the day.
The two years passed faster than I expected.
Eli thrived in school: he was top of his class, and his teachers spoke of scholarships and potential. He grew and became stronger, but kept his kind nature and curious mind.
“A joyful teenager | Source: Midjourney”
“Grandpa, I got accepted into the summer science program,” he announced one afternoon, waving the acceptance letter.
“That’s wonderful news,” I said, genuinely proud. “Your parents would be so proud of you.”
“Do you think Mr. Jared would be proud too?”
The question caught me off guard. “Yes, I think he would be very proud.”
“A serious teenager | Source: Midjourney”
As we built our new life, we heard news of Stuart’s downfall through Margaret, who still worked at the estate.
His recklessness had caught up with him. He lost everything: the estate, the cars, and any illusion of control he had.
“They say he’s leaving next week,” Margaret told me when we met for coffee. “The bank is going to sell the house.”
“The interior of a cozy cafe | Source: Pexels”
I nodded, feeling no satisfaction at his misfortune. “It’s a shame.”
“A shame? After how he treated you? Arthur, you’re too kind for your own good.”
Maybe I was. But bitterness was a luxury I couldn’t afford, not with Eli watching and learning from every reaction, from every word.
One afternoon, while Eli and I were walking to the park, he asked me a question that had been on his mind.
“A thoughtful teenager on a city street | Source: Midjourney”
“Grandpa, are you ever going to tell me what was in the box you brought from the estate?”
I looked at him – no longer a child, but not yet a man – and saw in him the future that Jared had helped secure.
“When you’re ready,” I said with a small smile. “When the time comes.”
“A man and his grandson entering a city park | Source: Midjourney”
“When you’ve built a foundation strong enough that it won’t change who you are.” I gently squeezed his shoulder. “Some gifts aren’t meant to be opened right away.”
As we kept walking, I thought of Jared, the garden we had cultivated together, and the seeds we planted that grow long after we’re gone. Some in the earth, others in the souls. Both endure far beyond what we can see.
Here’s another story: When Claire agrees to clean the abandoned house of a reclusive woman, she expects dirt and disorder, but not the strange feeling of a house frozen in time. As she digs through the piled-up clutter, she finds a stack of birthday cards that leads her to a heartbreaking revelation.
