Arnold turned 93, but his birthday was quiet. He sat by the window, waiting for his children, but they never came. He picked up the phone, dialing familiar numbers, only to hear excuses or silence. His thoughts drifted to his late wife, Mariam, and the memories of when their home was full of life.
As the days passed, Arnold wrote letters, hoping to bring his family together. Christmas arrived, but he spent it alone. The house felt empty, and so did his heart. He finally gave up, realizing the reunion he hoped for might never happen.
One evening, there was a knock at the door. Arnold hesitated before opening it. A young man named Brady stood there with a warm smile. Sensing Arnold’s loneliness, Brady invited him to celebrate Christmas together. A short while later, Brady returned—with neighbors, food, and laughter. Arnold’s house was full again, not with his children, but with kindness.
That night, Arnold made a wish. Not for his children to return, but for peace in his heart. In the months that followed, Brady visited often. They shared meals, conversations, and quiet moments. Arnold’s cat, Joe, grew fond of Brady, curling up beside him just like he did with Arnold.
When Arnold passed away, Brady made sure his final wishes were honored. Among Arnold’s belongings, he found a letter written to his children. It was filled with words of love and forgiveness—words they would never read.
At Arnold’s funeral, his children arrived, but too late. They stood in silence, realizing how much time they had lost. Brady held Arnold’s walking stick as he set off for Paris—a place Arnold had always dreamed of visiting.
With Joe by his side, Brady walked through the streets Arnold had once longed to see. Some dreams, he realized, don’t end. They just find a new way to be fulfilled.