“What goes around comes around,” old Eleanor often said with a gentle smile, though Nurse Claire worried deeply about the elderly woman’s future. After giving her son access to her life savings, Eleanor had nearly been left destitute. But one unexpected delivery from her past would prove that kindness has a way of coming full circle.
The room where Eleanor spent her days carried the quiet charm of a bygone era. The faint scent of lavender mingled with the polish of old wood, filling the space with a sense of warmth. Sunlight filtered through lace curtains, casting delicate patterns on the faded wallpaper. Eleanor sat in her favorite armchair, her frail hands resting on an embroidered blanket that had seen decades of use.
She gazed at the clock on the wall, a wedding gift from years long past, its steady ticking marking the passage of time and her wandering thoughts. A gentle knock at the door interrupted her reverie, and Nurse Claire peeked in, her kind smile lighting up the room.
“Ma’am, you have a visitor,” Claire said softly.
Eleanor straightened as much as her stiff back would allow, her expression curious. “A visitor? Well, let them in, dear.”
Moments later, the sound of polished shoes echoed on the wooden floor as Andrew, her son, entered. His tailored suit and sharp cologne contrasted starkly with the warm nostalgia of the room. He greeted her with a tight, perfunctory smile.
“Mother,” he said, his tone clipped. “I need you to sign these papers.” He placed a sleek folder on the table beside her. “It’s just a small thing, really. It’ll give me access to your accounts and holdings. I’ll take care of everything for you—it’ll make things easier.”
Eleanor hesitated, her frail hands hovering over the folder. “Oh, Andrew, if it will help you…” she began.
Before she could pick up the pen, Nurse Claire stepped forward. Her usual soft demeanor was replaced with quiet determination. “Ma’am, perhaps it’s best to review these later. You’ve had a long day.”
Andrew’s forced smile faltered, irritation flashing in his eyes. “It’s just a signature,” he snapped.
Claire didn’t waver. “Later,” she repeated firmly, meeting his gaze.
Eleanor looked between them, confused but compliant. “Alright, Andrew. We’ll do it later.”
Andrew stood abruptly, gathering his papers. “Fine. I’ll come back tomorrow,” he said curtly, leaving without another word.
As the door closed behind him, Claire knelt beside Eleanor. “Are you alright, ma’am?”
Eleanor nodded but her voice was heavy. “He’s my son, Claire. He only wants what’s best… doesn’t he?”
Claire hesitated, her heart aching for the elderly woman. “Of course,” she murmured, though doubt lingered in her tone.
The garden was Eleanor’s sanctuary, its blooming roses and sweet jasmine a respite from the concerns that weighed on her. Claire wheeled her along the stone path, the rhythmic bubbling of the fountain mingling with birdsong.
“Ma’am,” Claire said hesitantly, “I know it’s not my place, but Andrew… he doesn’t seem to have your best interests at heart.”
Eleanor chuckled softly. “Oh, Claire, he’s just ambitious. That’s not a bad thing.”
Claire stopped the wheelchair and knelt beside her. “Ambitious? Maybe. But he’s already left you here, hasn’t he? If you give him control of your finances, he’ll forget about you completely.”
Eleanor’s smile faltered, but she didn’t respond. Her gaze drifted toward the roses, seeking solace. Claire pressed on.
“This nursing home is struggling. If you invested here instead, you could secure your comfort and help others.”
Eleanor placed her trembling hand over Claire’s, her tone gentle but firm. “Claire, I’ve lived by one principle: what goes around comes around. If Andrew misuses my trust, the universe will see to it.”
Claire sighed, her frustration evident. “Life doesn’t always work that way, ma’am.”
Eleanor smiled, unshaken. “It always has for me.”
The next morning, Andrew returned with a lawyer in tow, carrying a stack of papers. Eleanor’s face lit up as he entered. “Andrew, you’re back! Did you bring the papers?”
“Yes, Mother,” he replied briskly. “Just sign here, here, and here.”
Claire stood in the doorway, her stomach churning. “Ma’am…” she began cautiously.
Eleanor raised a hand. “It’s alright, Claire. I trust my son.”
Her hand trembled as she signed the documents, but her face remained serene. Andrew gathered the papers quickly, his grin widening. “Thank you, Mother. You won’t regret this.” He didn’t look back as he left.
Days later, Claire entered Eleanor’s room, her face pale. “Ma’am, I need to tell you something. Andrew… he stopped paying your nursing home bills. We have no choice but to ask you to leave.”
Eleanor’s hands trembled, but she steadied herself. “It’s alright, Claire. Things will work out. They always do.”
A knock interrupted them. A deliveryman entered with a bouquet of white lilies and a sealed envelope. Claire opened it and read aloud:
“When I had nothing, you gave me a place to stay and helped me get back on my feet. Please accept this as a token of my gratitude.”
With the note came a massive donation, enough to save the nursing home and renovate it—with one condition: Eleanor would be cared for, always.
Eleanor’s eyes lit up with recognition. “A homeless boy, years ago… I never imagined.”
Claire’s voice trembled with emotion. “What goes around comes around,” she whispered.
Eleanor smiled, the lilies filling the room with their sweet fragrance. “Yes, Claire. It always does.”