A poor old woman decided to fly business class to get closer to her son. However, she faced rejection from passengers on board until they discovered her true identity.
Rhea felt self-conscious. The old woman had gotten on the first plane to leave the airport that morning, and she sat in a seat in business class where the well-to-do folks stayed.
As she entered the cabin, nobody spared her a glance, but when she located her seat and sat, eyes turned towards her. The reason was simple; she stood out like a sore thumb.
Where the other men and women present all wore fancy and expensive-looking clothes, Rhea wore her old, broken-in clothes — it was her best, but it looked drab compared to what the others were wearing.
The man next to her had his face completely buried in a newspaper when she sat down, so he did not quickly notice her. When he put down the issue, he looked to his side and winced at her appearance, then he signaled a flight attendant.
“What is this?” he asked, pointing to Rhea.
The flight attendant looked a bit mortified at the man’s tone, but after verifying the woman’s seat number, she faced the man and replied, “This passenger took a seat according to the ticket she paid for.”
The man looked like he would vomit at any minute because of Rhea’s presence, and before he even proceeded to talk, he unfolded a pristine handkerchief and used it to cover his nose. Then he said, “I don’t know what’s on her ticket, but I bought a seat in business class to get away from people like her, now it just feels like I’m in a cheap alley with homeless people.”
The altercation had gotten the attention of many in the cabin, and some seemed to be in support of the man. One plump woman bedecked from her head to her feet in jewelry piped up.
“If I wanted to fly with such riff-raff, I would buy an economy class ticket,” she said, and a murmur of agreement moved through the passengers.
The murmur quickly took on a life of its own and soon led to a squabble the attendant tried to quell, but the rich folks would not hear of it — the woman had to go.
“Can’t you see she doesn’t belong here?” one man said.
“Is this how low this airline has fallen? How can such a person afford the bill?” another asked.
“We want her gone and we want a formal apology for allowing us to come into contact with such filth,” the man beside Rhea said.
He and a few other passengers were on their feet and refused to sit until they got what they wanted. Rhea sat there, listening to them arguing and trampling all over her dignity.
“I’m okay, this too shall pass,” she kept repeating under her breath like a mantra.
Still, she heard how they spoke of her, and it hurt her very deeply that people could be so cruel. Before she knew it, sad tears cascaded down her slightly wrinkled cheeks.
“Perhaps I’ll just leave,” Rhea thought, then started to gather her things with shaky hands.
As she stood up to go, she stumbled, and rather than catch her as instinct should have made him, the man beside her flinched away as if to avoid getting splattered with mud.
Rhea fell to her knees and inadvertently spilled the contents of her purse. She started to collect her things with trembling hands, knowing she was the focus of everyone in the cabin.
An expensively dressed old lady who had been sleeping peacefully until the ruckus woke her got up from her seat and also went down on her knees to help Rhea.
At that, the cabin went silent, and the passengers stared dumbfounded as one of them treated Rhea like a human. The first thing the woman picked up was a passport photograph of a little boy.
“Thank you very much,” Rhea whispered as she collected it from her.
“This is my son,” she said with a teary smile, still on her knees. “He is the pilot of this plane.”
“He must have grown up to become a handsome young man,” the rich old woman said.
“How could I know? I had to give him up for adoption when he was just five because I had no means to take care of him.” As she spoke, tears fell from her eyes, and the cabin remained silent.
“I’ve been looking for him for years but I’ve not been able to find him. Recently, I found out he became a pilot so I started to go from airport to airport looking for him. Today I found him but the only way I could get close to him was by boarding this flight.”
Rhea looked up at the people around, most of whom averted their eyes shamefully, then she continued.
“I’m sorry for making you all feel uncomfortable but I just wanted to be as close to my son as possible which is why I saved up my money to get this chance. The business class is closer to him and I’ve never flown before so I thought it would make a great birthday gift for myself.”
The passengers listened to her story, and by the time she stopped talking, many were crying. Rhea got up eventually and went with the flight attendants, who were hell-bent on introducing her to her son.
“What if he doesn’t want to see me?” she asked, resisting their urging. “What if he hates me for abandoning him?” Before the flight attendant could speak, the man who had been against her sitting beside him beat her to it.
“You had no choice, I believe he will understand that,” he said before quickly diving behind his newspaper again. He was also ashamed. Rhea left with the flight attendant to finally meet her son.
After some time, a man’s voice was heard on the plane. “This is the captain speaking… there is a special person flying on this plane — my mom, and it’s her birthday today.”
Everyone applauded the old lady, and those who had ridiculed her before apologized for their mistake. When the plane landed, the pilot, whose name was Joseph, met up with his mother, and finally, after many years of estrangement, Rhea held her son again.
What did we learn from this story?
Choose to be kind. When the man beside Rhea started to clamor for her to leave the cabin, others joined in, and even though the woman had done nothing, they may have succeeded in making her leave. The only person who did not do what they did was another old woman. She stood up for Rhea even though she could easily have just joined the haughty passengers, and her decision changed everything.
Never give up. Rhea looked for her son for years but could not locate him; however, that did not stop her. She kept looking, and she was ready to do anything to meet him, including saving up her hard-earned money for an expensive business class flight. Her perseverance and sacrifices were rewarded in the end, and she was able to meet him.
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My Millionaire Father Left Me Homeless Until I Discovered Something Worth More Than Money
My father and I were standing beside his brand-new car, admiring the sleek black paint and shiny chrome details. I was already thinking about when I could take it out for a spin.
Suddenly, a homeless man shuffled over. His ragged appearance seemed out of place next to us as he stopped a few feet away.
“Excuse me, sir. I don’t mean to bother you, but… if you have any work, I’d be glad to earn a few dollars. I can wash the car or… clean your shoes.”
I looked at him, repulsed by his appearance.
“No, thanks,” I snapped. “I don’t want you touching my stuff with those dirty hands.”
The man didn’t respond. He didn’t argue or make a scene. He just gave a small nod and walked away, disappearing into the city crowd like he was used to hearing that kind of response.
I felt a strange satisfaction as if I’d defended my world. My father had been quiet the entire time. Later that evening, though, he called me into his study, his face unusually serious.
“Declan,” he started, “I’ve watched you live your life without any understanding of what’s really important.”
I frowned, not knowing where this was going.
He continued, “That man today… you treated him like he was less than human. That attitude is going to destroy you. You think money makes you better, but it’s the one thing that can ruin you.”
I tried to interrupt, but he raised his hand.
“From now on, you’re not getting another dollar from me until you learn to be a decent person. No money, no inheritance, nothing.”
“What do you mean, nothing?”
“I mean, you’re going to earn everything on your own. I’m giving you these clothes from the second-hand store, and that’s it. You need to learn the value of money, Declan.”
That wasn’t just talk. I found my accounts frozen. No more luxury, no more easy life. I was left with nothing and no way out.
The first days on the street were nothing short of humiliating. One minute, I was surrounded by luxury, and the next, I was searching for a spot to escape the cold.
The reality of it all hit me harder with each passing day. I always thought it could never happen to me. Yet there I was, shivering under a bridge, wishing for even a fraction of what I once had.
My mind kept drifting back to Layla. I had promised her a night out somewhere elegant and expensive, a place worthy of her beauty.
But now, what will she think if she sees me like this?
I wore ragged clothes, had unwashed hair, and had no money in my pockets. The thought of showing up in this state was unbearable. On the second day under the bridge, I heard a voice.
“Hey, are you alright?”
A young woman was standing in front of me.
“You look like you could use some help,” she said, offering me a hand.
I hesitated for a second, ashamed of what I had become. But I had no choice.
“I’m a volunteer at a shelter nearby,” she said. “It’s not fancy, but it’s warm, and we can get you cleaned up and something to eat.”
She led me down a few streets until we reached a modest house. The furniture was worn, but it didn’t matter. After spending nights under the open sky, it felt like a palace.
Mia motioned me to sit.
“Here, let me get you something to drink,” she said as she handed me a cup of hot tea. “This place isn’t much, but we try to make it comfortable for everyone who comes through.”
I looked around. “Why are you helping me?”
“It’s my job to help. But more than that, I know life can turn upside down in the blink of an eye. I’ve seen people from all walks of life come through here. You’re not alone in this.”
Her words hit me harder than I expected. I nodded, grateful for the first bit of kindness I had felt in days.
Later, Mia brought me clean clothes and showed me how to clean up.
“I know things seem bad now,” she said as I combed my hair in the mirror, “but you can get through this.”
Her kindness gave me hope.
The next day, Mia helped me prepare for a job interview at a local restaurant.
“It’s not glamorous, but it’s a start.”
I knew she was right. I had to start somewhere. The interview was short, and I began my duties immediately.
I started doing the dirtiest work: taking out the trash, mopping floors, washing dishes. It was tough, but I kept reminding myself that I had to earn enough to stay at a motel and buy decent clothes for the date.
Each day was hard, but with Mia’s support, I started to believe I could face whatever came next.
A week of hard work passed, and it felt like the longest week of my life. Every day at the restaurant was a struggle. My hands, once soft and unblemished, were now calloused from mopping floors and scrubbing grease off dirty dishes.
It seemed like everything was working against me. Plates always slipped from my grasp, buckets of water splashed over my shoes. Each time something went wrong, the manager was quick to pounce.
“Declan, can’t you do anything right?” he barked one afternoon as I fumbled with a tray of dirty dishes. “This isn’t a playground. You mess up again, and you’re out!”
I could feel the stares of the other employees burning into my back, but I just nodded, biting my tongue. My pride had already taken enough hits.
Outside, as I walked home from work, I heard kids running down the street, laughing loudly.
“Look at him!” one of them shouted, pointing at me. “He can’t even walk straight!”
They giggled as I stumbled, my feet dragging from exhaustion.
When I’d finally make it back to the shelter, I’d go straight to the shower. Every night, I collapsed onto the bed, too tired to even think, only to wake up and do it all over again the next day.
By the end of the week, payday came, and I eagerly opened the small envelope, hoping it would be enough to keep me going. But inside were only a few crumpled bills.
“That’s it?” I muttered, stunned.
The restaurant owner looked at me coldly.
“You’re homeless. And you’re an awful worker. Be glad I gave you anything at all.”
At that moment, I saw myself in the homeless man I had once insulted. I finally understood what it felt like to be treated as if you didn’t matter.
Despite everything I had been through, I decided to go on that long-promised date with Layla. I hoped she would see me for more than the wealth and status I used to flaunt.
I arrived at the café, my palms sweating. Layla walked in, her high heels clicking sharply against the floor. She was just as stunning as ever. Her eyes scanned me from head to toe.
“Declan,” she sighed, “I thought you’d at least show up in a decent suit. What happened to the car? I expected dinner at that fancy place downtown, not… this.”
She gestured around at the modest café, her voice dripping with frustration.
“I’m sorry, Layla. Things have changed for me. I don’t have the money I used to, but I thought maybe we could still…”
She cut me off, shaking her head.
“I’m not here to help you rebuild yourself, Declan. If you can’t offer me the life I deserve, then what’s the point?”
Her words were like a slap in the face, but they were also the truth I needed to hear. Layla wasn’t the woman I thought she was. She was just a reflection of my old shallow life built on appearances and material things.
After she left, I sat there for a few minutes, processing it all. In my old world, I would have been crushed, but now, I no longer needed to chase after someone who only valued me for money.
With the little money I had earned, I bought a box of pastries from a local bakery. As I walked through the park, I spotted the homeless man I had insulted weeks ago. I handed him the box.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “For how I treated you before. You didn’t deserve that.”
“We all have bad days,” he said simply, accepting the pastries.
His words lifted a bit of a weight off my shoulders. Then, with the last bit of cash I had, I bought a big bouquet of roses and headed to the shelter.
Mia was there, as always, helping others with a warm smile on her face. I handed her the flowers.
“Thank you, Mia. For everything. I don’t know where I’d be without your help. I was wondering… would you like to go for coffee with me sometime?”
Mia’s eyes lit up. “I’d love that, Declan.”
At that moment, I realized something I hadn’t understood before. Life isn’t about money or status, or how you look to others. It’s about the people who lift you up, who see you for who you really are, and help you become better.
My father appeared later that evening and admitted he had been watching me all along.
“I’m proud of you, son,” he said quietly. “Let’s go home.”
And for the first time, I felt like I had earned it.
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