Millionaire Pretends to Be Poor Meeting the Parents of His Son’s Fiancee — Story of the Day

A girl’s parents are against her marrying a nice young guy who they think is poor, so his millionaire father pretends to be broke and teaches them a lesson.

When Sam Sutton discovered a way to make an unbreakable sealant for engines everyone wanted, he never imagined that it would one day affect the love life of his then-infant son, Will.

Sam’s discovery brought immediate improvements to the family’s life as it happened. He started making a lot of money on that sealant’s patent. Sam, his wife, and his baby son moved to a lovely house and got a new car.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

As the years passed, there was more money than Sam had ever imagined. His little family was comfortable, and that’s all he cared about. The extraordinary sums his lawyer kept reporting on seemed quite unreal.

Then something terrible happened to Sam and his family, and all those millions piled up in the bank made no difference. Sam’s wife, Rain, became very ill. Sam kept telling doctors money was no object, but they just shook their heads.

There are two things in life that money can’t buy: love and good health. Sam found out about the first in the most painful way when Rain passed away, and he’d find out about the second when Will grew up.

Being a single dad to a growing boy wasn’t easy, so maybe Sam made a few mistakes. Will was so kind, loving, and unspoiled that Sam lavished everything he could afford on him — and Sam could afford anything.

So, in high school, Will’s colleagues quickly realized that his dad was very rich and generous — and so was Will. Quickly, Will became the most popular guy — not because of his kindness or amazing good looks, but because of his dad’s money.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

Girls, in particular, swarmed around Will like bees around a honey pot. At first, Will liked it, but gradually, he realized they didn’t want him. They wanted his dad’s money and all the luxury it could buy.

Will told weeping Sam that the girl he was in love with didn’t really care for him. She just cared about going along on their private plane for the Sutton family trips to Aspen, Veil, and the Bahamas.

Sam comforted his son and encouraged him to break up with that girl. The rest of Will’s senior year in high school was pretty lonely, but he had a plan. “Dad,” he said, “I have a plan.”

Sam grinned. “OK! What’s your plan?””I’m going to Yale in the fall, but I want everyone to think I’m a scholarship student.”

Sam blinked in astonishment. “A scholarship student? You? But why?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

“Well.” Will said, “if I’m poor and I wear scruffy clothes, people won’t be my friends unless they really like me. Girls won’t want to date me for our money.”

“That’s very true, Will,” Sam said. “I think that’s a brilliant plan!”

And so they put the plan in motion. Will and Sam bought all his clothes and equipment second-hand, and Will was the scruffiest, poorest-looking student you ever saw.

Money can’t buy love and good health.

The plan worked because Will quickly found many great, sincere friends, and he even met a girl he liked, and she felt the same way, too. By his third year at Yale, Will was so in love with that girl.

Her name was Eddy — for Edwina — and he decided he wanted to marry her. Sam was a little worried that Will might be too young, but he married young, too, and he’d been very happy.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

So Will proposed to Eddy, and she said yes. Eddy took Will home to meet her parents that Thanksgiving, which was a disaster. Eddy’s parents, Marta and Farlow, were well-to-do and proud of their social position.

They wanted their beautiful daughter to marry a rich man, not a shabby third-year science major, no matter how smart, handsome, or funny. They were subtly unpleasant to Will but not enough that Eddy could complain.

Eddy, who had accepted Will’s proposal, proudly displayed the tiny diamond he’d given her as if it were the Kohinoor. She insisted that Will and his father join her family for the Christmas celebrations. Marta and Fallow were horrified, but they smiled, agreed, and made their plan.

Will and Sam took a Greyhound from their mansion in New Hampshire to Eddy’s family’s beach house in Narragansett to join the family for Christmas.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unplash

Eddy’s dad picked them up from the bus terminal, and the fun began. Farlow looked Sam up and down and sniffed. (Sam had gone shopping at the local Goodwill store and gone a little overboard.)

Sam didn’t look just poor; he looked almost homeless. Farlow drove them to their big house, and he talked about his wealth, his houses, and his cars. “I’ll have you know,” he said to Sam, “that I’ve done very well by my family. We live in comfort — to be honest, we live in luxury.

“Not everyone is used to that, of course, and we understand that, but we hope you and Will will be able to fit in. Christmas is very important to us.”

“It’s important to us too,” Sam said. As it turned out, Marta and Farlow’s idea of Christmas was to splurge on towers of expensive presents and show everyone they knew how successful they were.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

The next few days were a nightmare. Farlow and Marta didn’t miss a chance to show Sam they believed their daughter was way out of his son’s league.

“Eddy is a wealthy young woman, Sam,” Marta said. “And her husband must be able to give her the same lifestyle. I know you’ve not done as well for Will…”

Eddy became aware of her parents’ campaign to humiliate Sam, and she was furious. So she talked with her parents. “I’m going to marry Will,” she said. “And Sam’s going to be family, so get used to it.”

“But darling,” cried her mother, “the man is a derelict! Have you seen his clothes? He’s an embarrassment.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pixabay

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pixabay

“Believe me, mom,” Eddy said angrily, “you are much more of an embarrassment than Sam could ever be!” Eddy could not have known that Sam was listening, and he smiled. She loved Will! He’d found his one-in-a-million girl.

That night was Christmas Eve, and when the family gathered around the tree at midnight to exchange gifts, Marta said with an unpleasant smile, “You mustn’t feel bad, Sam, we know you’re struggling!”

Marta and Farlow handed Will a box with a car key inside. “It’s an early wedding present,” Farlow said. “We thought you needed a better car. Your old clunker is at least twenty years old, Will!”

Will smiled and thanked Marta and Farlow, and they all went outside to admire the Porsche sitting in the garage with a big red bow on it. Farlow threw Sam a triumphant look and smirked. He knew that Sam could never top that gesture, could he?

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

Then Sam took an envelope out of his pocket. “Eddy,” he said. “Will told me you two plan to move to New York when you graduate.”

“That’s right, Sam! You know he has an offer from a New York research facility, and I have an internship at the Met…”

“Well, finding a place to live in Manhattan isn’t easy, so I hope this helps…” Sam gave the envelope to Eddy.

Farlow sneered. “What’s that? A list of homeless shelters in the Upper East Side? A guide to the Best Brooklyn soup kitchens?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Eddy opened the envelope and gasped. “Sam!” she whispered. “Is this for real?” She showed Will the sheaf of papers inside the envelope, and Will ran to embrace his dad.

Farlow and Marta looked from one to the other in surprise. Then Eddy turned to her parents. “Sam’s given Will and I the deed to a brownstone in Tribeca. He’s given us a home.”

Marta and Farlow looked at each other, their mouths hanging open. “But…but…but…” gasped Farlow. “You’re POOR…The way you dress…You took the bus…”

“Well, Farlow,” said Sam gently. “I want my son to be loved and accepted for himself, not for the $570 million he will eventually inherit from me.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

There were no more objections to the wedding from Eddy’s parents. In fact, they became Will’s biggest fans and were very polite and respectful of Sam. The following summer, Will and Eddy married and moved to New York. When they welcomed their little daughter, Rain, three years later, Sam bought himself a house next door so he could be close to them.

What can we learn from this story?

  • Money can’t buy love and good health. Sam knew that if people knew he was rich, they’d get close to his son for his money.
  • Don’t judge people by their appearance. Farlow and Marta despised Sam for his shabby clothes and never imagined he was a millionaire.

Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.

78-Year-Old Woman Returns from Nursing Home to Her House – Only to Find a Mansion with Changed Locks in Its Place

Margaret left her home behind years ago, believing it would always be there waiting for her. But when the 78-year-old finally returned, her small house had vanished, replaced by a grand mansion with locked doors and a shocking secret inside.

I sat by the window, watching the garden outside. The roses were in bloom, swaying gently in the breeze. I liked to watch them.

A sad elderly woman | Source: Pexels

A sad elderly woman | Source: Pexels

I didn’t go outside much anymore—too cold some days, too hot on others. But the garden reminded me of something. Of home. Of the house I left behind.

I had a garden there once. A small one, just a patch of flowers by the porch. I didn’t know why I thought about it so much these days. Maybe because there wasn’t much else to think about.

An elderly woman in her garden | Source: Pexels

An elderly woman in her garden | Source: Pexels

The nursing home was quiet. Too quiet. The nurses came and went, always smiling, always polite. The other residents shuffled past my door, some talking to themselves, some staring blankly at the floor.

My children left me long ago. First my daughter, who moved across the country. She sent letters at first, then holiday cards, then nothing at all.

An elderly woman reading a letter | Source: Pexels

An elderly woman reading a letter | Source: Pexels

My son, David, left next. He got married, started a family, and never looked back. I used to wonder what I did wrong. I didn’t wonder anymore.

I made my choice years ago to leave the house and move here. It was easier than living alone. I still had the key, though. It sat in my bedside drawer. Sometimes, I held it in my palm, feeling its weight. It was warm, even though it shouldn’t have been.

A key in a hand | Source: Pexels

A key in a hand | Source: Pexels

One afternoon, as I sat staring out the window, a nurse tapped my shoulder.

“Margaret, you have a visitor.”

I blinked. “A visitor?”

She nodded, smiling. I didn’t get visitors. Not anymore. My hands trembled as I pushed myself up from the chair.

And then I saw him.

A shocked woman covering her face | Source: Pexels

A shocked woman covering her face | Source: Pexels

David.

He stood in the doorway, hands in his pockets, looking older than I remembered. His hair had grayed at the edges, his face lined in ways it hadn’t been before. But it was him. After 30 years, it was him.

“Mom,” he said softly.

I didn’t know what to say.

A serious man on the porch | Source: Midjourney

A serious man on the porch | Source: Midjourney

“I—I hope it’s okay that I came,” he continued. “I just… I wanted to see you.”

I gripped the arms of my chair. My heart pounded, but my voice came out steady. “Why now?”

He sighed, looking down. “My wife left me. Took the kids. I—” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I spent years building a life with her, and now it’s gone. And it made me think about you. About how I left you.”

A sad man sitting in a chair | Source: Pexels

A sad man sitting in a chair | Source: Pexels

I swallowed hard. “That was a long time ago.”

“I know,” he said. “And I’m sorry, Mom. I should’ve come back sooner.”

Silence stretched between us. I wasn’t sure what to feel. Anger? Sadness? Relief?

“I don’t know what to say to you,” I admitted.

“I don’t expect you to say anything,” he said quickly. “I just… I want to make things right.”

A happy woman touching her face | Source: Pexels

A happy woman touching her face | Source: Pexels

I didn’t answer.

After a moment, he pulled something from behind his back—a bouquet of daisies. My favorite.

“I remembered,” he said, offering a small, uncertain smile.

I took them, brushing my fingers over the petals.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

An elderly woman holding a bouquet of daisies | Source: Midjourney

An elderly woman holding a bouquet of daisies | Source: Midjourney

He started visiting after that. Not every day, but often. Sometimes he brought flowers. Other times, books he thought I might like. We sat together and talked a little. At first, our words were careful, like stepping over broken glass. But over time, it got easier.

One day, he took me to the park. We sat on a bench and watched the ducks in the pond.

“Do you remember the old house?” I asked, glancing at him.

An elderly woman with her son | Source: Pexels

An elderly woman with her son | Source: Pexels

He hesitated. “Yeah. I remember.”

“I’d like to see it again,” I said. “Just once.”

He shook his head. “No, Mom.”

I frowned. “Why not?”

“It’s just… it’s not the same anymore.”

An unsure man in a chair | Source: Midjourney

An unsure man in a chair | Source: Midjourney

That was all he said. And no matter how many times I asked, he always gave the same answer.

No, Mom.

I didn’t understand. But one way or another, I intended to find out.

One afternoon, after David left, I decided I wouldn’t wait any longer. I put on my best coat, slipped my old house key into my pocket, and left the nursing home without telling anyone.

An elderly woman on the street | Source: Pexels

An elderly woman on the street | Source: Pexels

At the bus stop, I counted my change carefully. I hadn’t taken a bus in years. The ride felt longer than I remembered, every stop stretching time. My hands gripped my purse tightly as I watched the familiar streets pass by. Houses I used to know looked different—some painted with new colors, some with fresh gardens, some completely unrecognizable.

Finally, the bus stopped near my old neighborhood. I stepped off, my heart pounding.

A smiling woman in the street | Source: Pexels

A smiling woman in the street | Source: Pexels

As I walked down the street, memories flooded my mind—playing children, barking dogs, the sound of a lawnmower in the distance. My feet knew the way, leading me to the place I had left behind.

But when I arrived, I froze.

My house was gone.

A shocked woman on the street | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman on the street | Source: Midjourney

In its place stood a grand mansion—tall, beautiful, and nothing like what I had left behind. The porch was bigger, the windows gleamed, and a lush, flowering garden surrounded the entire property.

I stared, my breath caught in my throat.

This couldn’t be right.

A mansion with palm trees | Source: Pexels

A mansion with palm trees | Source: Pexels

With trembling fingers, I pulled out my key and stepped onto the porch. My hands shook as I tried to fit the key into the lock. It didn’t fit. I jiggled it, tried again. Nothing.

Someone had changed the locks.

Panic rose in my chest.

I pounded on the door. “Hello?” My voice was weak, swallowed by the quiet street. “Who’s in there? This is my house!”

A woman knocking on a mansion's door | Source: Midjourney

A woman knocking on a mansion’s door | Source: Midjourney

No answer.

I stumbled back, heart racing. Someone had stolen my home. I pulled my phone from my purse and dialed 911.

“Emergency services. What’s your emergency?”

“My house,” I gasped. “Someone took my house. I—I came home, and it’s gone. It’s different. The locks are changed. Someone’s inside.”

A woman talking on her phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking on her phone | Source: Midjourney

The operator asked me questions I barely registered. My hands shook as I explained, over and over, that this was my home, that something was wrong.

Minutes later, a police car pulled up. Two officers stepped out, their expressions calm, careful.

“What seems to be the problem, ma’am?”

Before I could answer, the front door of the mansion opened.

A man standing in a mansion's doorway | Source: Midjourney

A man standing in a mansion’s doorway | Source: Midjourney

David stepped outside.

I stared at him, my chest tightening.

He looked startled, then sighed, rubbing his forehead.

“Mom?”

The officers turned to him. “Sir, do you live here?”

A police officer with his arms crossed | Source: Pexels

A police officer with his arms crossed | Source: Pexels

He nodded. “Yes. This is my home.”

I gasped, stepping back. “What does this mean? You—you took my house?” My voice cracked, shaking with anger and confusion. “You stole it from me! Changed it! Sold it?”

David’s face fell. “Mom, no, I didn’t sell it.” He let out a deep breath. “You… ruined the surprise.”

I blinked. “What?”

A shocked elderly woman | Source: Freepik

A shocked elderly woman | Source: Freepik

He walked toward me, hands outstretched. “I wasn’t going to tell you until it was done. I—I rebuilt the house, Mom. I kept the foundation, but I expanded it. I made it bigger, stronger. I restored it. And the garden—” He gestured to the flowers. “I planted all your favorites. The same ones you used to have.”

I couldn’t speak. My chest ached, too full of emotions I couldn’t name.

A shocked woman in front of a mansion | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman in front of a mansion | Source: Midjourney

“I wanted to bring you back when everything was perfect,” he said. “I wanted it to be a gift.”

I stared at the house—at my home, changed yet still standing, and tears blurred my vision.

David took a step closer. His face was filled with regret.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” he said softly. “For leaving you. For waiting so long to come back. For not telling you sooner.” His voice broke. “I never should’ve stayed away.”

An apologetic man in front of a mansion | Source: Midjourney

An apologetic man in front of a mansion | Source: Midjourney

I swallowed hard. The anger inside me faded, replaced by something else—something heavier.

“I thought you forgot about me,” I whispered.

He shook his head. “I never forgot. I just didn’t know how to come back.” He glanced at the house. “But I wanted to give you this. A home. Our home.” He hesitated, then added, “Come back, Mom. Live here. You don’t have to stay in that nursing home anymore.”

A serious man in his garden | Source: Midjourney

A serious man in his garden | Source: Midjourney

I looked at the house, really looked at it this time. The walls were new, but the bones were the same. The porch where I used to sit, the windows that once held my curtains, the steps that led to the front door—it was different, but it was still mine. And the garden… oh, the garden. Roses, daisies, lavender, and lilacs. Everything I had ever loved, blooming in the sunlight.

Tears slipped down my cheeks. “You did all this for me?”

A crying elderly woman | Source: Pexels

A crying elderly woman | Source: Pexels

David nodded. “I wanted you to have everything you dreamed of.”

I let out a shaky breath. “Then I suppose I should see what the inside looks like.”

His face lit up. “I’ll make us some tea.”

A little while later, we sat together on the porch, steaming cups in our hands. The scent of flowers filled the air, and for the first time in years, I felt home.

A woman with a cup of tea | Source: Pexels

A woman with a cup of tea | Source: Pexels

David smiled at me. “You happy, Mom?”

I looked at him, at my son, my house, my garden.

“Yes,” I said. “I am.”

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