At seventy-four, I thought I was simply paying to fix my leaky roof. I never imagined what the workers would discover—or how it would completely change my life. My name is Evelyn, and I’ve been a widow for nearly ten years. My husband, Richard, passed away unexpectedly, leaving me alone in our aging family home. Without children or close relatives, my days were quiet, filled mostly with gardening, baking, and volunteering at the local library. But the nights were different—too quiet, often haunted by the sound of rain dripping through the old roof.
After many sleepless nights listening to the creaks and drips, I finally saved enough money to hire a small crew to repair the roof. The workers seemed rough around the edges, but among them, one young man named Joseph stood out. He was polite, respectful, and kind—qualities I hadn’t expected from a crew that looked so tough.
That evening, I overheard the crew arguing. Most of the men wanted to keep the contents of the box for themselves, but Joseph refused to go along with their plan. The next morning, Joseph came to my porch holding the box and explained everything. Inside, there was a significant amount of cash and gold—savings Richard had quietly put aside over the years.
Over the next few weeks, Joseph and I grew close. With no family of my own, I welcomed him like the grandson I never had. He visits regularly now, often bringing his girlfriend for holidays, and my once-lonely house is filled with laughter and warmth again.