His wit was unmatched, always equipped with a sharp joke or an unexpected prank. This time, he outdid himself with a practical joke that forever marked our family’s memories.
Not long ago, everyone—children and grandchildren alike—assembled at his lawyer’s office. Grandpa was financially well off, and the topic of inheritance brought everyone together. The lawyer opened with a letter from Grandpa.
“Hello, my dear family! Today, many of you will leave this room very disappointed because you won’t get what you wanted. Moreover, probably only one person will leave here with a smile, because for the past two months, I’ve been pretending. I didn’t actually lose my hearing. I HEARD EVERYTHING YOU SAID ABOUT ME. SO, LET’S START.”
The room went silent. My uncle’s jaw dropped, and Aunt Helen, usually so composed, looked like she’d seen a ghost. Grandpa’s letter continued, “I know who visits me out of love, and who visits out of obligation—or curiosity about my money.”
I glanced around. Cousin Richard, who had been bragging about how he’d get the biggest share, was sweating bullets. My sister Emma, who had been whispering to her husband about how “Grandpa is senile and probably won’t remember anything,” suddenly went very pale.
Grandpa’s voice came through the speaker in the lawyer’s office: “Let me tell you a story. Two months ago, I pretended to be hard of hearing. I wanted to see who truly cared about me, not my bank account.”
He paused, letting the suspense build. “I overheard everything. I heard you planning to rush in as soon as I was gone, I heard you gossiping about me behind my back, and I heard some of you saying you’d be happier without me around.”
Everyone shuffled uncomfortably. My aunt Mary, usually the quiet one, buried her face in her hands. Grandpa continued, “But, there was someone who never said a word against me, who visited with genuine care, even when I ‘ignored’ them. That person noticed my little tricks, smiled, and just stayed by my side. That person is about to find a pleasant surprise.”
The lawyer handed a small envelope to my youngest cousin, Lucy. She opened it slowly, her hands trembling. Inside was a key and a note: “For the house by the lake. May it bring you as much joy as you’ve given me.” Lucy looked up, tears streaming down her cheeks. She had spent every weekend with Grandpa, reading stories, fixing things around the house, and just listening to him talk. She had never once asked for anything in return.
Grandpa chuckled through the speaker. “The rest of you,” he said, “your inheritance isn’t about to disappear. But I hope today you understand that wealth isn’t measured in dollars alone. It’s measured in love, loyalty, and kindness.”
Uncle Richard tried to speak, but the words stuck in his throat. Aunt Helen finally managed, “Well, Grandpa… I guess we misjudged you.”
Grandpa’s next twist came as a shock. “And since I’ve caught all of your true intentions, I’ve made a little game of it. Over the past two months, I left certain envelopes around the house. Some were empty, some had small amounts of money, and some had handwritten notes. The purpose? To see who would take what was not theirs, and who would respect what isn’t theirs.”
We all exchanged nervous glances. Grandpa continued, “I know who tried to sneak a peek and take more than their share. Don’t worry—I kept track. There will be consequences, but only mild ones. A lesson, really.”
Emma shrank in her seat as Grandpa said, “Your consequence? You’ll be organizing the annual family reunion this year, including cleaning, cooking, and hosting. That’ll teach you a thing or two about selflessness.”