A modest family in a sleepy English village took in an elderly woman who was barely a relative a distant aunt, almost a stranger, and, to make matters worse, blind and quite senile. It was a baffling act of generosity, yet they did it.
The Whitcombe household was simple and poor. John and Mary had three children, and their son Robert already had two grandchildren. They were rougharoundtheedges folk, not welleducated, but decent at heart. Instead of sending the old lady to a care home, they let her stay in the far end of the village, where she could no longer look after herself.
They brought her thin, ragged clothes, gave her a clean shawl and a fresh blanket as was proper, fed her from a spoon and set her down on a modest bed. On the wall they hung a wooden carving of deer, though she could not see it. Life went on: they ate cabbage soup, porridge, noodles, and tea with sugar. They helped her to the toilet, changed her clothes when needed, and listened to her constant mumblings in a frail, trembling voice.
One day, the old lady, Agnes Whitcombe, whispered, Theres a thief in the barns! The family hurried to the outbuilding and found the drunken neighbour pilfering potatoes and cabbages. What a coincidence!
Later she warned, Dont let young Elliot drive to town his car will crash. Trusting the ramblings of their seemingly mad aunt, they kept him from the journey with his friend. The friend later had a serious accident, and Elliot might have been seriously injured had he gone.
Agnes kept on speaking nonsense, though she could no longer see, remember, or even bring a spoon to her mouth. Eventually she began to plead for a lottery ticket. Her father, Robert, drove into the larger town, bought a ticket, andagainst all oddsthey won a hefty sum: somewhere between three and five hundred thousand pounds, the exact figure blurred in their amazement. The simple folk merely said, A fortune! and bought Agnes a new housecoat, a tin of biscuits, and a beautiful blanket, despite her blindness. She now sat on that elegant cover, looking like a doll in a clean coat and a fancy kerchief, counting prayer beads and murmuring gentle words in her thin voice, smiling all the while.
Though she still drifted in and out of reality, could not feed herself, and struggled to reach the loo, she radiated a serene smile. She sat proudly on the pretty blanket, her face bright as a sunrise, her soft voice offering kind blessings.
The Whitcombes learned that kindness, even to someone who seems a burden, can bring unexpected joy and rewards. Their generosity reminded them that compassion is its own treasure, and that caring for others may return to us in the most surprising ways.
