11 Very Short Stories About the True Power of Love

Sometimes, life produces the kinds of situations and events that no Hollywood scriptwriter could ever dream up. Comical, ambiguous, unpredictable, tragic — life is such a multifaceted thing. But whatever happens, there’s always space for love, kindness, happy occurrences, and simple wonder.We at  gathered together 11 very short stories, but yet powerful stories that will hit you right in the heart.

10 very short Stories About the True Power of Love

 

  • Today, two days after my partner’s funeral, I received a bouquet of flowers which he had ordered for me the week before. The note read, “Even if the cancer wins, I want you to know that you’re the girl of my dreams.”
  • Today I won a court case that lasted a very long time. 14 months ago, I found out that my neighbor regularly beat his dog. So I kidnapped it, and I was arrested. I spent a lot of money on the trial, but today, when I woke up and felt the warmth of my shaggy friend at my feet, I knew it had all been worth it.
  • My daughter came home from school and asked me where she could learn sign language. I asked her why she wanted to, and she replied that there was a new girl at her school who was deaf and only knew sign language, and she had no one to talk to.
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  • Today, I chose the wrong number and accidentally sent my dad a message saying “I love you,“ which was meant for my husband. A few minutes later I got a reply: ”I love you too. Dad.” It was so touching. We say things like that to each other so rarely.
  • In our school, just like in every other one, there’s a girl who’s more popular than anyone else. She’s unbelievably beautiful and intelligent, and all the boys would do anything to get her attention. But she spends all her time with just one boy: her little brother, who has autism.
  • My grandfather and I were looking through some photographs when we stumbled upon an old shot of him dancing at a party with my grandmother, who had died several years before. He put his arm around me and said, “Always remember that even if something doesn’t last forever, it doesn’t mean that it’s not worth your time.”
  • I worked as a consultant on how to raise children for 15 years. Later I ran into one of the kids I’d previously worked with. He’d been a difficult child, always getting upset and angry at life. One time, I drew him a picture of Superman and wrote a message about how superheroes never give up and always win in the end. That little boy is now a fireman, and he saves people’s lives. We chatted for about half an hour, and before parting he opened his wallet and showed me the picture of Superman that he’d kept all this time.
  • I have diabetes. Two years ago, my mom died and I adopted her cat, who’s called Kit. Recently, I woke up at 3 am when Kit sat on my legs and started meowing. I’d never heard him do this so loudly and persistently before. I got up to take a look at what the problem was and suddenly felt very weak. I grabbed my glucose meter to check my blood sugar level. It had fallen to 53, and the doctor had told me that the normal level was 70-120. Later, in the hospital, I was told that if Kit hadn’t woken me up, I wouldn’t have woken up ever again.
  • A large stray dog followed me from the subway almost to my apartment front door. I was getting nervous. Then suddenly a man appeared in front of me with a knife and told me to hand over my wallet. Before I had a chance to react, the dog had lunged at him. He dropped the knife and ran away. Now I’m safe at home, and it’s all thanks to that stray dog.
  • Recently, I dropped into a secondhand bookstore and bought a copy of the book that was stolen from me when I was a kid. I was so surprised when I opened it and found it was the very same stolen book. The first page had my name on it and my grandfather’s message that he had written when he gave it to me. He had written, “I really hope that many years later this book will once again fall into your hands, and you’ll read it again.”
  • Today, I found an old hand written note my mom wrote when she was a senior in high school. On it is a list of qualities she hoped she would someday find in a boyfriend. The list is basically an exact description of my dad, who she didn’t meet until she was 27.

THE 92-YEAR-OLD, PETITE, WELL-POISED AND PROUD LADY, WHO IS FULLY DRESSED EACH MORNING BY EIGHT O’CLOCK, WITH HER HAIR FASHIONABLY COIFED AND MAKEUP… PERFECTLY APPLIED, MOVED TO A NURSING HOME. HER HUSBAND OF 70 YEARS RECENTLY PASSED AWAY, MAKING THE MOVE NECESSARY.

 

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After many hours of waiting patiently in the lobby of the nursing home, she smiled sweetly when told her room was ready. As she maneuvered her walker to the elevator, I provided a visual description of her tiny room, including the eyelet sheets that had been hung on her window.

“I love it,” she stated with the enthusiasm of an eight-year-old having just been presented with a new puppy.

“Mrs. Jones, you haven’t seen the room …. just wait.”

“That doesn’t have anything to do with it,” she replied.

“Happiness is something you decide on ahead of time. Whether I like my room or not doesn’t depend on how the furniture is arranged, it’s how I arrange my mind. I already decided to love it. It’s a decision I make every morning when I wake up. I have a choice; I can spend the day in bed recounting the difficulty I have with the parts of my body that no longer work, or get out of bed and be thankful for the ones that do. Each day is a gift, and as long as my eyes open I’ll focus on the new day and all the happy memories I’ve stored away, just for this time in my life.”

She went on to explain, “Old age is like a bank account, you withdraw from what you’ve put in. So, my advice to you would be to deposit a lot of happiness in the bank account of memories Thank you for your part in filling my Memory bank. I am still depositing.”

And with a smile, she said: “Remember the five simple rules to be happy:

1. Free your heart from hatred.

2. Free your mind from worries.

3. Live simply.

4. Give more.

5. Expect less

Source: Lucy Taylor

A LESSON IN LOVE FROM INSIDE A NURSING HOME – BY KIMBERLEE KOEHN

Elderly couple at golden wedding holding hands
Elderly couple at golden wedding holding hands

MY GRAMMIE LIVED WITH US FOR A FEW YEARS BEFORE SHE WAS TRANSFERRED TO A NURSING HOME.

THE ADJUSTMENT HAD BEEN HARD FOR HER, ESPECIALLY DUE TO THE NEW PRESENCE OF A ROOMMATE, BUT SHE UNDERSTOOD THE NECESSITY, AS HER HEALTH HAD BEGUN TO RAPIDLY DECLINE.

Her room was set up with two beds arranged perpendicular to one another, divided by a curtain. Her roommate was by the door, and my Grammie was by the window, which she liked, as the sun shone in and warmed her cold skin during the day. One afternoon, as my mom was en-route down the hall to visit, she saw a man in the doorway, sitting in a chair beside the roommate’s bed.

“Hello,” she said warmly as she approached him.

The man immediately jumped up from his seat to greet her, extending his hand kindly.

“Hello ma’am, my name is Mr. Day and this is my wife. I just want you to know that I will be looking out for your mom, Miss. Patricia, here. I will make sure she is taken care of and that she is as comfortable as possible.”

A few days later, when I made my first visit to the nursing home, I took a seat next to my Grammie’s television and watched the sunbeams glide in through the window and across her freckled arms. She said she felt pretty good that day, that her breathing was better and she had an appetite again. My mom asked about her physical therapy, and my sister talked about the talent show my brother was in over the weekend.

As they talked, I glanced down at the dresser next to the television, noticing a few cards and a teddy bear holding a puffy, red, “get well soon” heart in its arms. Being nosy, I flipped open the tag attached to its ear and read the kind handwritten note addressed to a name I didn’t recognize. I then inched each of the cards ajar and noticed they too shared the same recipient, though according to the dates inside, some were given 4 or 5 years ago.

On my next visit, as my mom and I were en-route to the window side bed, we saw the familiar figure sitting in the chair by the doorway. When we reached him, Mr. Day again jumped up with haste to greet us. It was my first time meeting him, and as he shook my hand, he said,

“You know you look exactly like your mother.”

That day, as my mom and I visited, I watched Mr. Day out of the corner of my eye. He sat very content next to his wife’s bed, watching football and holding her hand, but all I could do was replay the story my mom had told me in the car on the way over.

9 years he’d been doing this. Almost an entire decade. Mrs. Day had had a stroke in her mid-50s, and was later diagnosed with both Parkinson’s and Alzheimer’s disease.

FOR 9 YEARS HE HAD COME TO VISIT HER, KNOWING THAT SHE WOULD LAY THERE ASLEEP, BEING FED THROUGH A TUBE.

There were so many things he could be doing, so many places he could be seeing, yet there he was beside her, as he’d always been.

What a love they must have had, I thought; though it was clear that to him that it did not live in the past. This woman, even while held in the clutches of tubes and wires, was still the woman he married, the woman who held his heart.

I thought of what my Grammie had told my mother the day before.

“Her feet kick,” she’d said between slow breaths.

“What do you mean?”

“When he talks to her; she kicks her feet when she hears his voice.”

Oh what a love they still have, I thought.

He, who has every reason to feel trapped or angry or resentful, looks at her like his own perfect Sleeping Beauty, and she, who has every reason to let go, holds on to hear that voice she knows so well.

For even in the worse, they still find a way to keep the vow from the better.

Source :- kindnessblog

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