Teenagers can be challenging to manage, a fact nearly every parent can agree upon. Adolescence is a delicate phase where young individuals often feel invincible and believe they have all the answers. They tend to dismiss advice, convinced of their own infallibility.
One mother of a 16-year-old encountered this familiar scenario. Her son frequently acted out, testing boundaries and exhibiting troublesome behavior. Then, one day, he approached her with an unexpected proposition: he wanted to spend the summer with his grandmother—his mother’s elderly mom, who was in poor health, disabled, and reliant on the assistance of a caregiver.
The teenager assured his mother he would take on the responsibility of caring for his grandmother, hoping to foster a closer bond with her and save money by eliminating the need for the caregiver.
His mother was ecstatic. Could this be a sign that her son was growing up and becoming more responsible? Hopeful, she agreed to let him stay with his grandmother for the summer.
Initially, everything seemed to go smoothly. However, one day, the woman received a phone call from her mother. Speaking in hushed tones, the elderly woman whispered, “Come rescue me from your son.”
Before the mother could respond, the line went dead.
Alarmed and confused, the woman quickly got into her car and drove toward her mother’s home, her mind racing. The journey felt interminable as she replayed past conversations with her son. His confident reassurances over the phone when she had checked in on his grandmother, his insistence on dismissing the caregiver—what she had interpreted as maturity and compassion now seemed deeply suspicious.
When she finally arrived, she was stunned by the scene before her. The yard was neglected, overgrown, and littered with empty alcohol bottles. From inside the house, loud music blared, accompanied by the raucous noise of teenagers partying, drinking, and shouting.
Calling out for her son, she searched the house but couldn’t find him. She eventually made her way to her mother’s bedroom. There, she found the elderly woman trembling and in tears. “He locks me in here,” her mother sobbed. “He says I’m ruining his parties.”
What the woman had envisioned as a heartwarming summer of connection between her son and his grandmother had turned into a nightmare. The elderly woman had been subjected to neglect and mistreatment at the hands of her own grandson.
Furious and heartbroken, the woman confronted her son. To her dismay, he showed no remorse for his actions.
Determined to hold him accountable, she confiscated all his electronic devices, sold them to cover the costs of repairing the damage to her mother’s home, and enrolled him in a strict disciplinary camp. She resolved that her son needed a drastic change in attitude and behavior if he was ever to regain his independence.
Over time, she began to notice small but significant improvements in his demeanor. It took several years, but eventually, her son transformed into the man she had always hoped he would become.
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My 16-Year-Old Son Went to Stay with His Grandmother for the Summer – One Day, I
Got a Call from Her
My 16-year-old son suggested he spend the summer caring for his disabled grandmother. I thought he had finally matured. But one night, a frightening phone call from my mother shattered that hope.
"Please, come rescue me from him!" my mother's voice whispered on the line, almost a breath.
Her words were tense and filled with fear, unlike anything I had ever heard from her. My stomach clenched. Before I could speak, the call ended abruptly.
I stared at my phone, stunned and confused. My once strong and independent mother was scared. And I immediately knew who "him" referred to.
My son had always been difficult, but recently, he'd gone too far. At sixteen, he was testing every limit. Rebellious, stubborn, a hurricane of attitude and defiance.
I remembered him coming home from school, dropping his backpack with a grin I didn’t recognize. "I was thinking about visiting Grandma for the summer," he said. "You always say she could use some company. I can look after her."
My first reaction was surprise and a bit of pride. Maybe he was changing. But now, as I sped down the dark highway, his words haunted me in a new way.
I blinked in shock. "You… want to stay with Grandma? You usually can't wait to leave there."
"I'll help take care of her," he replied. "You could maybe cancel the caregiver. Save some money."
The longer I drove, the more my recent conversations flashed through my mind, forming a picture I didn’t like.
"People do change," he shrugged with a strange smile. Then he looked at me with a half-smile. "I'm almost a man now, right?"
I brushed it off then, thinking he was finally becoming responsible. But now, that smile felt… strange. Not warm or honest, but like he was pretending.
As I traveled, I remembered other details I had ignored before. A week into his stay, I called to check on my mother. He’d answer cheerfully but too quickly, as if he was controlling the call. "Hey, Mom! Grandma’s asleep. She said she’s tired. I’ll tell her you called."
Why didn’t I push harder?
My mind flashed back to how it all started. It had been just the two of us since his father left when he was two. I tried to give him stability. But as he entered his teens, cracks appeared.
The only person who could sometimes get through to him was my mother. She had a way of calming him down, though she admitted he was "testing her patience."
I tried calling my mother again, hoping she’d answer. My thumb hovered over the screen as I felt a growing dread.
The landscape outside the car darkened, her rural neighborhood near. Every mile symbolized more worry. I replayed his smooth excuses, his charming facade.
When I finally arrived at my mother's house, a cold feeling ran through me. I could hear loud music blocks away. Her yard was overgrown, weeds tangled around the porch. The shutters had peeling paint, and the lights were off. It looked abandoned.
I got out, filled with disbelief and anger. Beer bottles and crushed cans littered the porch. I could smell cigarette smoke drifting from an open window.
My hands trembled as I pushed open the door.
And I found chaos inside.
Strangers filled the living room, laughing, drinking, yelling over the music. Some looked old enough for college, others barely out of high school. My heart twisted with anger and pain.
"Where is he?" I whispered, scanning the crowd, my disbelief turning to rage. I pushed through people, calling his name. "Excuse me! Move!"
A girl lying on the couch looked at me lazily. "Hey, lady, chill out. We’re just having fun," she slurred, waving a bottle.
"Where's my mother?" I demanded, scarcely holding back fury.
She just shrugged. "No idea. Haven't seen an old lady here."
Ignoring her, I kept shouting my son’s name over the loud music. I looked at every face, heart pounding, feeling less like home and more like a stranger’s place.
"Mom!" I cried, reaching the hallway’s end near her bedroom. The door was shut, scratched, like it’d opened and closed many times recently.
I knocked hard. "Mom? It’s me! Are you in there?"
A faint, trembling voice answered, barely above the noise. "I’m here. Please—get me out."
I felt relief mixed with horror as I opened the door. There she was, on the bed, pale and exhausted, eyes rimmed with tiredness. Her hair was messy, dark circles under her eyes.
"Oh, Mom…" I hurried to her, hugging her close.
Her frail but steady hand clutched mine. "He started with a few friends," she whispered softly. "But when I told him to stop, he got mad. Said I was in the way." Her voice quivered. "He’s been locking me in here. Said I ruined his fun."
Seething with rage, I took a shaky breath. I’d been blind, naive to trust my son’s promise to "help." I stroked her hand, determined. "I’ll fix this, Mom. I promise."
She nodded, squeezing my hand, trembling. "You have to."
I returned to the living room, my jaw clenched. And there he was, leaning against the wall, laughing with a group of older kids.
When he saw me, his face paled.
"Mom? What… what are you doing here?"
"What am I doing here?" I repeated calmly. "And what are you doing? Look around! See what you’ve done to your grandmother’s house!"
He shrugged, trying to act cool, but I saw through him. "It’s just a party. No need to freak."
"Everyone out. Now." My voice was firm, stronger than before. "I’m calling the police if this house isn’t empty in two minutes."
One by one, the guests left, murmuring and wobbling toward the door. The house emptied, leaving broken furniture, empty bottles, and my son alone in the wreckage.
When everyone was gone, I faced him. "I trusted you. Your grandmother trusted you. And this is how you repay her? This is what you called "helping"?"
He half-heartedly shrugged, sneering defensively. "She didn’t need the space. You always treat me like a kid, Mom. I just wanted some freedom."
"Freedom?" I said, amazed. "You’re about to learn what responsibility really means." I took a deep breath. "You’re going to a strict summer camp, and I’m selling your electronics and valuables to cover the damages. No freedom until you earn it."
He gasped. "You’re serious?"
"Yes," I replied coldly. "If you don’t change, you’re out when you turn eighteen. I’ve had enough excuses."
Next day, I sent him to camp. His protests and anger faded over the summer. For the first time, he faced the consequences of his actions.
While fixing my mother's house that summer, I saw our family slowly begin to heal. I cleared broken glass, patched walls, and stayed hopeful that my son would return a different person.
After that summer, I saw changes. He became quieter, more stable, spending evenings studying instead of hanging out with friends.
Small acts like helping around the house and apologizing without prompt became normal. Every day, he seemed more aware and respectful, as if he was finally growing into the man I wanted him to be.
Two years later, he climbed my mother’s steps again, head bowed. He was about to graduate with honors and start college. He carried a bouquet, his gaze sincere and gentle in a way I’d never seen.
"I'm sorry, Grandma," he said, voice thick with remorse. I held my breath, watching this boy I fought to raise, offering a part of himself.
Son Talks to Mom Only on Video Call for 7 Years, Sees Deserted House When He
Finally Visits
A woman finally secured a good-paying position after her son left for college and has supported him financially ever since. Seven years passed, with only digital conversations, until one day he returned and was stunned by what he saw.
A woman finally secured a good-paying position after her son left for college and has supported him financially ever since. Seven years passed, with only digital conversations, until one day he returned and was stunned by what he saw.
"Chris, don’t worry about anything. I’m paying for as much as I can. Just let me know if you need anything," Olive told her son at the train station. He was heading to New York for college, and she had recently landed a high-paying job.
However, most of his childhood, she couldn’t afford much. His gifts were often used or second-hand, as she raised him alone and studied at night. He always had food and shelter, but Olive felt guilty for not providing what his friends had.
She eventually earned a decent salary and was ready to give him anything he wanted.
"Thank you, Mom," Chris said, embraced her, and boarded the train.
### He knocked on the door. No answer. He peered through the window and was stunned. The house was empty.
***
"Mrs. Franklin, you should come see! I’ve grown so much!" Chris’ fiancée, Rosalie, told her via screen.
Chris met her in his junior year, and they were both close to graduation. But Rosalie found out she was pregnant, and they became engaged. Olive hadn’t met her in person because they were both busy studying, and Rosalie couldn’t travel much with her pregnancy.
Meanwhile, Olive couldn’t visit either because she worked extra hours. Over the years, she took on more shifts despite earning a good salary, to cover college, housing, and her expenses. Still, she lived tightly.
"Soon, Rosalie! I hope to meet you soon. When I get some time," Olive nodded, and Chris appeared on the screen. He told Rosalie he needed to speak privately with his mother, and she left.
For illustration only | Source: Pexels
***
"Mom, I want to ask you something," Chris began, scratching his head. "Since Rosalie and I will graduate soon and have a baby, I was wondering if you could help me find a house. We already looked at one. It’s in New Jersey because we can’t stay in the city — but it’s beautiful. It looks like home."
Olive looked at her son and hesitated. She thought about her savings and her working hard. She was finally considering retirement.
"Please," Chris pleaded, explaining the house price and the down payment needed. He added that Rosalie had nothing because she had no family able to support her.
"Alright, Chris, alright. Maybe we can manage something," Olive finally said. She would need to use all her savings and cut back even more, but it might be possible.
"Thanks! Thanks so much, Mom! I don’t know what I’d do without you!" Chris almost cried during the video call, and Olive smiled, knowing her effort was worth it.
***
"I wish you guys could come this Christmas," Olive said to her computer, as she often did over the years. Her son had left seven years before and hadn’t visited his hometown in Maryland. They only talked via video. She missed her granddaughter’s presence and disliked the distance. Everyone was busy.
She now worked more hours, partly to help her son, and had to empty her savings again to support his new business venture. She never asked for anything in return but wished for visits. However, they never came.
"We can’t, Mom. Not this year," Chris replied. "But thank you for the gifts you sent Mallory. She loves them. You’re such a wonderful grandma."
"Put her on the screen," Olive requested softly. She watched her granddaughter longing to be close.
***
Olive didn’t realize that Chris had finally decided to visit her. He couldn’t bring Rosalie and Mallory with him, but he was glad to see his mother.
But when his taxi stopped in front of her house, Chris frowned. It was round 9 p.m., and the house was dark. The porch furniture was gone. The plants Olive loved were missing. The garden was overgrown, and even the welcome mat was gone.
For illustration only | Source: Pexels
He knocked. No answer. He looked through the window and was shocked. Inside, everything was gone. Did Mom move? Why didn’t she tell me? he wondered, worried.
"Chris? Is that you?" a woman’s voice asked.
He turned to see Mrs. Torres, an older neighbor who had lived nearby his whole life. "Mrs. Torres. Hello!"
"What are you doing here, kid?" she asked.
"I'm trying to find Mom. Do you know where she is?" he asked, concerned.
"Oh, sweetheart. Your mom moved out about two years ago. She sold this house, but the new owners just moved in a few weeks ago. I don’t know who’ll live there now," Mrs. Torres said, frowning.
"She never told me," Chris muttered. "Do you know her new address?"
"I do. I have it written down. Come with me," Mrs. Torres went inside her house and handed him a paper.
Chris looked at the address and frowned. It pointed to a less nice part of town. "Why did she move there?" he asked the neighbor.
For illustration only | Source: Pexels
***
He got back into a taxi and gave the new address. It was an apartment complex with peeling paint on a poorly lit street. It looked rundown. He quickly entered the building, which was easy because there was no security.
"Chris? What are you doing here?" Olive asked, surprised when she opened the door.
"Mom! What’s going on? Why did you sell the house?" Chris asked, shocked and confused.
"Oh, Chris. Come inside," she sighed and led him into her small living room.
Olive explained that when he first asked for money to buy the house, she had some savings and used them to help him. Later, when he asked for money to start a business, she had nothing left, so she sold her house and kept most of the profit to help him.
Chris was stunned by her words and the realization that he had been so unaware. Such a careless son. "Why didn’t you tell me? Mom, I wouldn’t have taken the money if I’d known," he said breathlessly.
***
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***
"But I wanted you to succeed, dear. I failed to give you enough when you were younger, I didn’t…" she tried to explain, but Chris cut her off.
For illustration only | Source: Pexels
He sharply replied, "Mom, you gave me everything I needed. I only asked because I thought you had it. I should have asked sooner. I’m sorry I never checked on you. I regret not visiting. I hate that you live in this part of town, sharing a house at your age, with a roommate—God, I’m so sorry," he said, tears filling his eyes.
Olive also cried and hugged her son tight. Chris made many promises to her. That night, he called Rosalie and explained everything. They agreed she should move closer. She soon found a new job in New Jersey.
Eventually, they built an addition at her new home so Olive could be near her granddaughter. Over time, Chris repaid all the money she had spent on the house and his business, which grew quickly, allowing them to enjoy a comfortable life. Most importantly, Chris made sure Olive would never have to give up anything again.
What can we learn from this story?
Visit and talk to your parents often, especially those who give you unconditional love. Not everyone is as fortunate as Olive, and Chris should have checked on her more.
Don’t feel bad about not providing fancy things. All children really need is love and support. Kids don’t need costly clothes or gadgets, just your care.
Share this story with friends. It might lift their spirits and give them inspiration.
If you like this story, you might enjoy another one about a man who quit his job to bring his mother from a nursing home and finds her missing.
Older Mom Who Became Homeless Due to 3 Sons Cries When Lawyer Says She Gets $1M Mansion
Rose, a woman who once enjoyed a life of comfort and prosperity in her family estate, now found herself homeless because of her three sons’ greed. But soon, she received a phone call that would bring an end to her suffering.
To everyone passing by the Roy mansion, this beautiful six-bedroom home seemed like a perfect dream.
Outwardly, people took photos in front of its grand, aged gates and shared them online. Yet inside, there was a tragic story of love, loss, and selfishness.
Love because it was a house built nearly forty years ago by a wealthy young man for his beloved, where he raised their three sons and a daughter.
Loss because inside those walls, their fairy-tale romance ended when the man died from an illness, passing away in his wife’s arms.
And greed because the three sons, once the center of their parents' world, manipulated and forced their widowed mother out because she refused to sell the property.
Rose was a 63-year-old widow who had lost everything—the only man she loved, her familiar home, and her three stubborn sons: Don, David, and Daniel.
While her sons celebrated selling the old mansion and bought three modern houses with their share of the money, they deliberately excluded their mother from the deal.
Their sister Debbie received her part too, but she was away in a far-off place battling an unknown disease.
"Who cares? Debbie can donate her portion to some charity," Don said during a call with his brothers.
"Yeah! And Mom will be fine. She’s smarter than to beg on the streets," David added with a laugh.
"It had to be done, brothers! Mom would have made us wait forever to get our share," said the eldest, Daniel.
Meanwhile, Rose had ended up in a sketchy neighborhood, just another sad face in line of homeless people outside a notorious park.
She had left her home with almost nothing—except Raymond’s oldest car. She slept often in the backseat, fitting her tall frame into the tight space.
"Oh, Raymond," she sighed, gazing up through the window. "This is what it has come to. I wish you were here to see this; it would break your heart. Wait for me, Ray. I’ll join you soon, wherever you are, honey… until then, I’ll rest."
Despite all the pain and grief, a small part of her felt relief in surrendering.
Since Raymond died, Rose had never had a moment of peace. She raised four children alone after his passing.
It had been a tough but rewarding journey. She worked two jobs for years, saving every penny for their future education.
Her efforts paid off as all her children became successful professionals.
### "They tricked you, and now they’ll feel what it’s like!" Debbie told her mother, presenting her with a small gift box.
But their career successes no longer comforted Rose. She saw the cold truth—her sons had failed at being decent people.
They had betrayed the woman who raised them, leaving her with barely enough money for a tiny trailer.
Days turned into weeks. Nearly a month had passed since Rose was homeless. She never complained, and her kindness and humor helped her make friends among other street dwellers.
But she kept thinking of her husband Raymond and her daughter Debbie.
Debbie had left home when she was only 18, hoping to help support her family. Life brought her kindness from others, and she eventually became a respected medical researcher.
"I'm so proud of our girl, Raymond. I worry for her. Keep her safe for me. Find a way to tell her I’m okay and that I love her," Rose whispered to her husband’s memory, then cried.
Unbeknownst to her, just one week later, she stood face to face with her daughter, hugging her tightly as if they’d never been apart.
At first, she didn’t recognize the stylish woman stepping out of the luxurious black car in an empty parking lot.
But when their eyes met, the joy on her daughter’s face was clear.
"Debbie! My love! Am I dreaming?" Rose exclaimed, overwhelmed, as Debbie embraced her.
"Mom, I’m here now. It will all be fine," Debbie sobbed, holding her fragile mother.
A neighbor had recently called Debbie overnight to tell her what her brothers had done to their mother.
“He also said he saw you eating leftovers from the back of dad’s red car,” the neighbor explained.
Rose’s heart sank. She boarded the next plane, determined to find her mother.
That afternoon, they sat in a hotel and talked for hours. After reminiscing, Debbie finally prepared to reveal the truth.
"Mom, what Don, David, and Daniel did is unforgivable. I’ve decided to do something about it," Debbie declared with resolve.
She took her mother to a special place. An hour’s drive brought them to the old mansion.
"It’s sold, sweetheart," Rose said tearfully.
"I bought it," Debbie replied calmly.
Rose was stunned.
She listened as her kind daughter explained how she used her savings to buy the house back without telling her brothers.
>"Now they’ll understand what it’s like to be scammed," Debbie said, presenting her mother with a small gift box.
Inside was the keys to the house, still with the same old keychain.
After a week of paperwork, Rose received a call. The lawyer said, "You are now the owner of this mansion. Nobody can remove you. This $1 million estate is yours forever, Ms. Rose."
Rose stood silent, holding the phone long after the call ended. She felt overwhelmed and finally broke down crying.
Debbie wanted to do more. She worked with her lawyer to create a plan that tricked her brothers into selling their houses, leaving them broke and giving them a taste of their own medicine.
Meanwhile, Debbie and her mother enjoyed simple pleasures: blowing dandelions and eating bubblegum ice cream.
Rose had taught Debbie kindness, and now she taught her mother to focus on her happiness.
Debbie arranged meals, spa days, and birthday photoshoots for her mother until she peacefully passed away in Debbie’s arms.
What lessons does this story teach?
Greed blinds us to the blessings in our lives. Don, David, and Daniel only cared about their inheritance, forgetting the woman who raised them.
True happiness doesn’t come at the expense of your parents’ well-being. The sons ended up unhappy without their mother, while Debbie found joy in caring for her.
Share this story with friends. It might lift their spirits and inspire kindness.
If you liked this story, check out another about an elderly woman who wishes to see her estranged son and finds a surprising smile waiting for her.
This piece is inspired by real-life stories and written by a professional writer. Any names or places are coincidental. All images are for illustration only. Share your stories with us; they might help someone else.