A young hospital porter was asked to play an unusual roleto pretend to be the long-lost grandson of a dying woman. What he didnt expect was to find his own mothers face among the strangers photographs.
Tom had dreamed of becoming a doctor for as long as he could remember. It wasnt just a passing thoughtit felt like his purpose. But life kept throwing obstacles in his way. First, his fathers sudden death left him reeling. Then his mothers health began to falter under the strain of working two jobs. When the time came to take his medical school entrance exams, Tom was too exhaustedand he failed.
For the second year running, he worked as a porter at the local hospital, mopping floors, pushing patients through the corridors, and running errands from dawn till dusk. Still, deep down, he clung to the hope that one day hed earn the right to wear that white coat.
That day started like any othercleaning, fetching, carrying. But after lunch, something unusual happened. The head of the medical ward, Dr. Andrew Parker, called him in.
“Tom, theres a delicate matter,” the doctor said, studying him carefully. “We have a patientMargaret Whitmore. Shes very ill. She has a grandson, also named Tom. But she hasnt seen him in years, and shes desperate to see him one last time. We thought perhaps you could stand in for him? For her peace of mind.”
Tom froze. Pretend? Lie to a dying woman?
“Dr. Parker, I Im not sure. Isnt that wrong?” he asked quietly.
The doctors voice softened. “Sometimes a kindness is worth a small lie. For her, it would be a final comfort. You wouldnt be deceiving herjust easing her pain.”
Tom hesitated. His conscience whispered it was wrong, but the thought of a frail woman waiting for her grandson tugged at his heart. Finally, he nodded. The nurses briefed him: what the real Tom had loved as a child, where hed studied, the little sayings hed used. The strange performancefor an audience of onewas set.
That evening, exhausted after his shift and the talk with Dr. Parker, Tom stopped at the shop for bread and milk. His mother still relied on him. On the way home, he bumped into Emily, the girl from down the road whod caught his eye ages ago. Bright, warm, with a smile that could lift even the dreariest day.
“Tom! Whereve you been hiding?” she laughed.
They chatted easilyabout nothing much, a new film at the cinema. On impulse, Tom asked if she fancied going. To his surprise, Emilys eyes lit up.
“Saturday? Perfect.”
As he walked home, a rare smile touched his lips. Just the thought of the date made the world feel lighter. Maybe this was the start of somethingmaybe happiness wasnt so far off after all.
The next day, after his shift, Tom changed into casual clothes and stepped nervously into Margarets room. His heart pounded. What if she saw through him straight away? But the frail woman, tiny yet sharp-eyed, studied him and smiled weakly.
“Tommy you came, my dear”
Relief flooded him. She believed. He sat beside her, and to his surprise, their conversation flowed naturally. Hed expected to feel like an imposter, but instead, he found himself listeningreally listening. Margaret spoke about her life, the past, even deathwith a calm that humbled him.
Day after day, he visited more often. He brought her tea, plumped her pillows, or simply held her hand. One afternoon, she asked if he had a girlfriend. Tom thought of Emily and blushed. The old woman smiled knowingly.
“Tell me later how the date goes. I still love a good love story.”
But Saturday didnt go as planned. After the film, they strolled through the park when Emily turned serious.
“Tom, youre a good man. Truly. But were different. I want to travel, build a career, see the world. And you youre a porter. Its important work, but not the life I want.”
She didnt need to say morehe understood. His meagre wages, his struggles, his uncertain futureall of it stood between them.
He walked her home in silence. Back at the house, his mother asked how it had gone. Tom just shrugged.
“Nothing came of it.”
She sighed. Shed never approved of the “grandson” act either.
“Tom, I know you meant well. But you cant carry everyones burdens forever. Some weights arent yours to bear.”
He sat in silence, hollow inside. Emilys words were a sharp reminder of how far hed strayed from his dreams, and his mothers quiet reproach only deepened his guilt over Margaret.
The next day, Tom returned to the old womans bedside. He forced a smile, but she saw right through him.
“Whats wrong, lad? Did that girl hurt you?” she asked gently.
So he told her everythinghis dreams, his failures, how far hed fallen from the future hed once imagined. Margaret listened silently, then said:
“Love, Tommy, comes in many forms. Dont chase the one who dazzles. You need the one who warms you.”
Then she pulled an old photo album from her bedside drawer.
“Take this. These are pictures of my son, Williamyour father. Keep them. The memories are yours now; I dont need them anymore.”
Her voice trembled. Tom understoodthis was goodbye, not just to her, but to part of his illusions.
That evening at home, he leafed through the album. A young man smiled from the faded photosWilliam, the father hed only known from stories. Then his breath caught. In one picturea university group shotstood a young woman with a radiant smile. Tom froze. It was his mother.
His chest tightened. This couldnt be a coincidence. His parents had known each other. Why had she never said a word?
Questions raced through his mind. He needed answers. He jumped up and rushed back home.
As he hurried out of the hospital, still unsure what hed say, a hushed conversation reached him near the doctors lounge. The door was ajar, and he caught Dr. Parkers voice:
“…yes, well increase the dose slowlyno one will suspect. Well blame it on her worsening condition. Shes got a tidy inheritance, and that official grandson of hers is growing impatient.”
Another voice crackled over a speakerphone: “Hurry it up, Parker. Im sick of waiting. That old womans time shouldve been up ages ago.”
Toms heart hammered. A plot! They were speeding up her deathfor money. His own grandmother, whom hed just found, was in danger. Panic surged, but there was no time for fearhe had to act.
He bolted home and burst in, shoving the photo at his mother.
“Mum, who is this?! Who was William really?!”
She saw the picture and paled. Then the truth poured out.
William had been her first love. Theyd planned to marry, but his mother, Margaret, had fiercely opposed it. She believed her son deserved “better” than a working-class girl.
When she fell pregnant, William wanted to protect her and suggested they leave. But tragedy struckhe died in an accident before Tom turned one. Alone and penniless, shed had no choice but to place Tom in a childrens home temporarily while she found work and rebuilt her life.
Shed written to Margaret, begging her to acknowledge her grandson, but the grieving, proud woman never replied.
As Tom listened, everything shifted. The woman in the hospital wasnt just a patientshe was his grandmother. And someone wanted her dead.
“Mum, we have to save her,” he said firmly.
Late that night, when the hospital was quiet, Tom and his mother slipped into Margarets room. She was weak but alert.
“Tommy and whos this with you?” she whispered.
“Margaret its me Sarah,” his mothers voice shook. “Dont you remember? I loved your William. And this is your real grandsonour Tom.”
In minutes, they spilled the truth: their past, the conspiracy, the danger. The old womans eyes filled with tears.
“My dear grandson and youre here, Sarah”
But there was no time for sentiment.
“Grandma, we need to leave. Now!” Tom urged.
They packed a few things and helped her up. Hand in hand, they slipped out through a side exit where a taxi waited. All the way, Margaret clutched Toms hand, afraid to lose him again.
That night was chaos and miraclea family, once broken by pride and tragedy, made whole.
Months passed. Thanks to a nurse Tom confided in, Dr. Parker and his accomplice faced justice. Margaret recovered slowly, surrounded by love in Sarah and Toms small flat. For
