“Love is the truest treasure,” my late Nana always said. It took her acting as if she couldn’t hear and a surprising will reading for her selfish children to finally grasp her meaning.
Value your grandparents while they’re still here. Hold them close, murmur “I love you,” and make memories that will comfort your heart long after they’re gone. Because one day, those memories will be all you have. I’m Sophie, and I’m about to share how my 89-year-old Nana Beatrice taught me this precious lesson that changed my life forever.
I was 15 when it all happened. While my friends were caught up in summer romances and beach outings, I was happy spending time with Nana Beatrice. Her warm smile always brightened my day.
“Sophie, love,” Nana said once, her voice gentle and kind. “Want to help me tend the garden later?”
I nodded eagerly, ignoring the scoff from my uncle across the room. He never got why I spent time with the “old woman.”
“You’re wasting your summer, Sophie,” my Uncle Victor grumbled. “Why not join us at the lake instead?”
I shot him a look. “Because I actually care about Nana, Uncle Victor. You should try it sometime.”
As Nana and I trimmed the flowers together, I noticed her hands trembling slightly. She was getting older, and it worried me.
“Nana,” I said softly. “You know I love you, right?”
She paused, her warm eyes meeting mine. “Of course, darling. And I love you too. More than you’ll ever know.”
As we went inside, I hugged her tightly, breathing in the familiar scent of lilac and fresh-baked bread on her apron. I didn’t know it then, but this quiet moment was the calm before everything changed.
“Sophie,” Nana said, her tone suddenly serious. “Promise me something. No matter what comes, always stay true to who you are.”
I pulled back, puzzled. “Of course, Nana. But why are you saying this?”
She just smiled, her eyes twinkling as always. “You’ll see one day, my dear. Now, shall we bake some bread?”
A week before Nana’s 89th birthday, everything shifted. Dad came home, his face pale.
“Sophie,” he whispered, his voice shaking. “Nana’s in the hospital. The doctors say she’s lost her hearing.”
My heart broke. How could this happen? Just yesterday, we were giggling over her stories from when she was young.
“But… she was fine!” I protested, tears filling my eyes. “We were gardening and baking and…”
Dad pulled me into a hug. “I know, sweetheart. It happened so fast. The doctors say it’s not unusual at her age.”
Despite the news, we decided to throw Nana a birthday party anyway. She deserved it, hearing or not.
“We’ll make it special,” Mom said, her voice full of warmth and resolve. “Sophie, why don’t you put together a photo album? Nana would love that.”
I smiled, brushing away tears as I helped Mom prepare the table for dinner. “Yeah, I’ll do that. She always loved old photos.”
At Nana’s 89th birthday party, the celebration was lively, but something felt wrong. I sat beside Nana, showing her pictures on my phone, when I overheard Uncle Victor’s loud voice.
“If we don’t get the house, I’ll take it to court. Don’t you see she’s old and foolish?” he snapped, glaring at Nana.
I froze, my stomach turning. How could he say that about her?
Aunt Clara joined in, her tone sharp with scorn. “Oh, absolutely, brother! Her words mean nothing. I can’t wait to claim that beautiful cottage she has in the countryside.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. These were the same people who’d smiled and hugged Nana just moments before.
“Hey!” I shouted, my cheeks hot with anger. “How can you talk about Nana like that?”
Uncle Victor smirked. “Quiet down, you silly girl. This is adult business.”
I looked at Nana, expecting to see pain in her eyes. But instead, I caught… a spark of something else. Was it… amusement?
I shook my head, pushing the thought away. She couldn’t hear them, and part of me was glad. Their cruel words would have crushed her.
“You okay, Nana?” I asked, forgetting for a moment that she couldn’t hear me.
She patted my hand and smiled.
Later that night, after everyone left, I found Nana sitting in her favorite armchair, gazing out the window.
“Nana?” I said softly, stepping closer.
To my shock, she turned to me. “Sophie, love. Come sit with me.”
I stopped. “Nana? You… you can hear me?”
She chuckled, her eyes twinkling. “Darling, I know everything. Who said I was fully deaf? I can hear a little.”
My jaw dropped. “But… at the party… Uncle Victor and Aunt Clara…”
“I heard what they said,” she sighed. “And I know they’re all waiting for me to pass.”
I hugged her tightly, tears streaming down my face. “I’m so sorry, Nana. They’re awful!”
She wiped my tears away. “Don’t cry, my dear. We’re going to teach them a lesson they won’t forget.”
Over the next few days, Nana and I made a plan. I got some small recorders, and we set out to capture our relatives’ true feelings.
“Remember, Sophie,” Nana said as we worked. “This isn’t about getting even. It’s about showing the truth.”
I nodded, though part of me felt a little thrill at the idea of revealing their greed.
As we recorded more of my aunts’ and uncles’ harsh words, my heart broke. Their voices, full of selfishness and mockery, filled the tiny recorders:
“I can’t wait for the old woman to be gone already.”
“Maybe we should nudge things along, you know? It’s for her own good.”
“Why won’t she just pass already? I’ve got plans for that cottage.”
Each word felt like a punch to my stomach.
I looked at Nana, her hands shaking slightly as she listened. Her eyes, once so full of light, now shimmered with unshed tears.
“How can they be so cruel?” I whispered. “Nana, these are your children. How can they say such terrible things?”
Nana squeezed my hand, her touch as gentle as ever. “Oh, my sweet Sophie,” she murmured, her voice trembling. “Sometimes, the people who should love us most hurt us the deepest.”
Tears rolled down my cheeks. How could they treat the woman who’d raised them, loved them, given them everything, like this? Now they were hovering like vultures, eager for her death.
“Doesn’t it hurt, Nana?” I asked.
She smiled sadly. “Of course it does, love. But it also shows me who truly cares. And that’s worth more than any riches. Remember… love is the truest treasure.”
A week later, Nana passed away peacefully in her sleep. I was heartbroken. The funeral was quiet, with relatives shedding fake tears while glancing at Nana’s belongings.
“Such a loss,” Aunt Clara sniffled, her eyes scanning the room. “I’ll miss her so much.”
I held my tongue, knowing what was coming.
Three days after the funeral, we gathered at the lawyer’s office for the will reading.
Mr. Harper, our family lawyer, cleared his throat. “Before we start, I have a special request from Mrs. Beatrice.”
He set seven small boxes and envelopes on the table, each marked with a name. Everyone but me had one.
“Sophie,” Mr. Harper said, “your nana left something different for you.”
My heart pounded as I watched my relatives rip open their boxes. Each held a small recorder.
Uncle Victor pressed play first. His own voice echoed: “I can’t wait for the old woman to be gone already.”
Aunt Clara’s recorder played next: “Why won’t she just pass already? I’ve got plans for that cottage.”
One by one, the recorders revealed the cruel things they’d said about Nana. Their faces paled as the truth sank in.
Nana hadn’t been deaf at all.
“YOU!” Uncle Victor pointed at me, his face red with fury. “You set this up!”
I stood firm. “No, Uncle Victor. You did this to yourselves. All of you did.”
As the last recording ended, I couldn’t help but smile. Nana had outsmarted them all.
“Sophie,” Mr. Harper said, handing me an envelope. “This is for you.”
With trembling hands, I opened it. Inside was a letter in Nana’s graceful handwriting:
“My dearest Sophie,
You were the only one who saw me for who I was, not what I owned. Your love was true and selfless. That’s why I’m leaving everything to you. Use it wisely, and always remember: love is the truest treasure of all.
Love,
Nana”
Tears streamed down my face as I held the letter close. I realized Nana had given me something far more precious than money or property. She’d taught me the real meaning of love and family.
As for my relatives? They each got an envelope with a single dollar and a note that read: “Hope this will do! Good luck!”
The aftermath was messy. Uncle Victor threatened to fight the will, but Mr. Harper shut him down quickly.
“Mrs. Beatrice was fully aware when she wrote this will,” he said firmly. “And given what we just heard, I’d say her choices were well-founded.”
As we left the office, Dad pulled me aside. “Sophie, I’m so proud of you. And I’m sorry I didn’t notice what was happening sooner.”
I hugged him tightly. “It’s okay, Dad. Nana knew you loved her. That’s what counts.”
It’s been ten years since that day, and I still miss Nana every day. But her final lesson stays with me: love your family with all your heart, because nothing in this world lasts forever. Not money, not houses. Just love.
And remember, sometimes the softest voices have the most to teach. Listen closely… you never know what you might learn.
