When the lawyer began reading my mother’s will, I thought I knew what was coming. She had always been generous with my brother and our aunts, even though they rarely visited. I was the one who stayed — through hospital nights, quiet talks, and the moments when she needed someone most. So when I heard her entire $5 million estate was going to them, my heart dropped. They celebrated instantly, while I sat holding the only thing she left me: a small envelope with my name on it.
Inside was a simple key and an address. No explanation. Still, something told me she had more to say.
That afternoon, I drove to the address and found a small cottage wrapped in wildflowers. As soon as I stepped inside, the scent of lavender — her favorite — washed over me. On the kitchen table was a sealed letter. In her careful handwriting she wrote, “You gave me love when I had nothing else. This home is my gift to you — a place where peace lives forever.”
Outside, beneath an old oak tree, I found a wooden chest filled with photo albums, her wedding ring, and a deed transferring the cottage and land to me.
While my relatives argued over money, I found peace planting her garden. Every bloom reminded me of her lesson: real wealth isn’t counted in dollars, but in love, loyalty, and the memories we leave behind.
