\nBoss Fires Poor Gardener, Humiliating Him\u2014On His Last Day, He Finds a Buried Box in the Backyard\n
I was kneeling in the east garden, hands buried in the cool soil, when Margaret from the kitchen staff hurried over, her face flushed with urgency.\n
\u201cArthur, have you heard? Mr. Stuart is coming back today. He\u2019s taking over everything.\u201d\n
This estate was more familiar to me than any other place on earth. And now, Stuart was returning to claim what was rightfully his.\n
What I didn\u2019t voice was the deep ache in my heart whenever I thought about Jared. He was more than just my employer\u2014he was my friend.\n
We had spent countless hours together, tending the small garden behind the main house.\n
\u201cGrandpa, I finished my homework. Can I help with the planting?\u201d\n
Eli, my 14-year-old grandson, stood at the edge of the garden.\n
\n
Since the accident two years ago that took my daughter and son-in-law, Eli had been my anchor. Polite, studious, and endlessly curious, his love for books never ceased to amaze me.\n
A sleek car pulled up to the main house, and out stepped Stuart.
\nYears had passed since I last saw him, yet he still carried that same air of arrogance and entitlement\u2014the same boy who once yanked out irises just to spite me.\n
The first few weeks under Stuart\u2019s rule were worse than I had feared.\n
The staff treaded carefully as he scrutinized every corner, dismissing people over trivial mistakes.\n
Where Jared had been kind and understanding, his son was cold and ruthless.\n
I did my best to ignore his constant criticisms and the way he acted as if he didn\u2019t recognize me. But deep down, I worried\u2014I couldn\u2019t afford to lose this job.\n
Weeks turned into months, and Stuart\u2019s lavish parties grew wilder. His reckless friends tore through the gardens in expensive cars, toppling planters and scattering gravel without a care.\n
The once-peaceful estate had become nothing more than a playground for the privileged and thoughtless.\n
One late summer morning, as I prepared to compost the garden beds, I heard heavy footsteps approaching. Stuart stormed toward me, his face flushed with anger.\n
I rose slowly, my knees protesting. \u201cGood morning, Mr. Stuart.\u201d\n
\u201cDon\u2019t give me that. Did you see what happened to my car? Someone scratched the paint. Was it your grandson? That quiet, sneaky kid?\u201d\n
\u201cEli was at school all day yesterday, sir. He\u2019s been attending a summer program all week.\u201d\n
\u201cWell, someone did it. And since you\u2019re supposed to be keeping an eye on this place\u2014\u201d\n
\u201cI\u2019m the gardener, sir. Not security.\u201d\n
As he stormed off, a strange sense of peace settled over me.\n
For illustrative purposes only.
\nMaybe this was a blessing in disguise.\n
I removed my uniform overalls and walked to the garden Jared and I had once nurtured together.\n
As I worked, I noticed a patch of earth that looked recently disturbed. Digging with my hands, I soon hit something solid. Clearing away the dirt, I uncovered a small wooden chest secured with a simple latch.\n
Inside, neatly stacked, were bundles of cash, small gold bars, and a folded note in Jared\u2019s familiar handwriting.\n
\u201cThis is for you, my friend. I know you need this. With love, Jared.\u201d\n
Even in de.ath, Jared had found a way to take care of us. The irony wasn\u2019t lost on me\u2014getting fired had led me to this final gift from a true friend.\n
Without another word to Stuart, I left the estate.\n
The next day, I visited the bank, securing everything from Jared\u2019s box in a safe deposit under Eli\u2019s name.\n
Two years passed more quickly than I had expected.\n
As we built our new life, I heard from Margaret, who still worked at the estate, that Stuart\u2019s reckless ways had finally caught up with him. He lost everything\u2014the estate, the cars, and whatever illusion of control he once had.\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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