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The elderly neighbor knelt down, begging her son not to send her to a nursing home

As I heard crying through the wall, my heart sank. It was my neighbor, who was a 67-year-old retiree. Through the slightly open door, I saw her kneeling right in the yard, with trembling hands, begging her son not to take her to a nursing home. But he was unyielding — he just waved her off and shoved an old bag into her hands.

I felt unbearably sorry for her. I couldn’t watch as an elderly, helpless person was being pushed out of her family’s life. I approached, hugged her, and quietly said:

— Come with me. You’re not alone.

She looked at me with such despair that I immediately decided: I won’t let this family get rid of their mother so easily. Let them later understand what it means to lose a loved one.

— You know, — she sobbed, wiping tears with the corner of her handkerchief — I’ve worked my whole life for him… My son… — she swallowed the lump in her throat — I raised him alone, gave him everything. And since he got married, it’s as if he forgot me.

I was silent, just squeezed her hand.

— The daughter-in-law… that one — the neighbor continued in a trembling voice — tells him that I’m a burden, that I’m old and sick, that I belong in a nursing home… Lord, I’m even afraid to hug my grandchildren — what if she doesn’t like it! I’m no longer a person in this house, just a burden.

She fell silent, staring at the pattern on the tablecloth, then whispered almost inaudibly:

— And my son… my son didn’t even defend me. He chased me away like a dog…

When the neighbor calmed down a little, I hugged her tightly and said:

— Don’t worry, I’ll help you. A son like that needs to understand he has no right to treat you that way.

The next day, I called him myself.

— Hello — I began in a cold voice. — Your mother now lives with me. And you know what? She’s doing well here, warm and peaceful.

— What?! — he shouted into the phone. — Why not in a nursing home?

— Because she’s not a burden. She’s a person. I’ll give her a roof over her head and respect. Try living with that. I’ll invite journalists so everyone knows how you threw your own mother out on the street.

He fell silent, and I continued:

— And I’ll talk to the neighbors and your boss. I don’t think someone with such a reputation will easily face people afterward.

I heard his nervous breathing.

— You… you have no right… This is my family — he muttered.

— I do — I replied calmly. — As long as she wants to stay with me, she will. If you want to take her back, you’ll come on your knees and apologize to her.

I hung up and looked at the neighbor, who had heard everything. For the first time in a long time, a spark of hope shone in her eyes.

— Thank you — she whispered.

— Everything will be fine — I promised. — We will show him what it means to love and respect a mother.