A Rich Man Who Was Abandoned by His Parents in an Orphanage 57 Years Ago Finds Them Now Living in a Nursing Home.

A man abandoned by his parents as a child in an orphanage finds them now in a nursing home fifty-seven years later and has to make a decision that will change his life forever.

Brendan’s earliest memories were of hunger and fear, of angry voices arguing over him. The hands that should have cared for him were instead rough. Brendan remembered crawling out of his little cot, heading towards the sound of music and laughter, his heavy, soaked diaper weighing him down. Then the laughter stopped. “For God’s sake, we need to get rid of this brat!” a woman’s voice screamed. It was his mother.

Sometimes, when his mother was sleepy and happy, she’d let Brendan snuggle into her warmth, and for those moments, he felt safe and content. But most of the time, the sight of Brendan irritated his parents.

It would be many years before an adult Brendan understood why the little boy he once was was so unwanted and unhappy. His parents were both wealthy, living off trust funds. When Brendan was born, they lived in a commune.

Bitterness is a poison, and forgiveness is the only antidote. It was the 1960s, the era of peace, love, and the power of flowers, but for Brendan’s parents, it didn’t mean love for children. When Margaret found out she was pregnant, she was horrified and furious.

She was horrified because she never intended to be a mother—never! And furious because it was too late to stop Brendan’s birth. Luckily for Margaret and Brendan’s father, Rafe, the commune was full of maternal women who adored babies and cared for Brendan. Brendan wasn’t supposed to be Brendan—they wanted a romantically fitting name like Moonchild—but the man at the registry glanced at Margaret’s bare feet and love beads and asked for the name of the father.

“Brendan,” she answered. And the man registered him as Brendan—a sensible and practical name.

Margaret and Rafe lived in the commune until Brendan was almost three, then decided to move on. They were considering following a new guru who was all the rage. The man, an Indian aesthete, had given a talk in San Francisco, and the couple was enchanted by his philosophy of living a meaningful life. The guru ran an ashram in India, and Margaret and Rafe decided that’s where they should be. But what to do with Brendan? They couldn’t take him…

“Let’s leave him at an orphanage,” Margaret said. “Isn’t that where they take care of children?”

Rafe wasn’t so sure. “And what about Oliver Twist? I don’t want that to happen to the boy.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Margaret exclaimed. “I’m sure it’ll be fine! And he won’t be poor, right? He has his own trust fund since birth, and he’ll be fine as soon as he grows up. He’ll have everything he needs!”

So, three days later, Margaret and Rafe took little Brendan to an orphanage run by nuns on the outskirts of San Francisco and left him in the lobby. All they left with him were his birth certificate and the papers for his trust fund. To Brendan, the nuns, with their white veils like wings, were like angels. They took him, bathed him, cared for the constant painful rashes that plagued him since birth, and fed him.

For the first time, Brendan was surrounded by loving, gentle, and caring people. At the orphanage, he thrived and became an active, joyful boy—but sometimes he would fall into deep silences.

As he grew older, Brendan started to understand more of his hazy memories. He learned about his trust fund and the fortune he would inherit when he turned older. He knew his parents hadn’t abandoned him due to poverty or desperation.

Most children at the orphanage were orphans, but a very few had been left there when their parents could no longer feed them, to prevent them from starving. But Brendan’s parents were wealthy…

When Brendan turned 18, he left the orphanage and the kind nuns and went to college. His trust fund had matured, and there was plenty of money to pay for college or even to let Brendan live the rest of his life without working.

But Brendan wanted to build bridges, like the Golden Gate Bridge. He wanted to build bridges that would rise up and seem to reach the sky.

At college, he met Susan, a beautiful artist, and they fell in love. They married after graduation and had two children. When Brendan held his children for the first time, he felt a wave of love that made him wonder how his own parents could have left him.

His bitterness and anger toward them grew along with his love for his children. “They never loved me the way I love Meg and Brian,” he would tell Susan. “They never loved me, not really!”

Brendan was already a grandfather when he finally heard from his ‘parents.’ The law firm managing his trust fund contacted him to inform him that his parents had finally run through their own trust funds.

“They’re destitute, Brendan,” the lawyer said. “We’ve paid the last of their trust funds to the nursing home where they are, but in six months, they’ll be homeless.”

“Why are you calling me?” Brendan asked coldly. The man hesitated. “Well… they’re your parents,” he said. “We thought you should be informed… and perhaps feel some natural feeling…”

“They were never real parents,” Brendan replied. “I feel nothing for them, unless it’s healthy contempt.”

But the lawyer’s call kept bothering Brendan, tugging at his conscience. “I’m 60 years old and owe them nothing!” he told Susan. “So why do I feel this way?”

“Because you’re a good man,” Susan said softly. “And good men do the right thing…”

So, two weeks later, Brendan and Susan drove to the nursing home where Margaret and Rafe now lived. The flower children of long, slender, beautiful hair were long gone.

They were old now, and hadn’t aged gracefully. When a caregiver announced a visit from their son, they were stunned. Then Margaret stood up and walked toward Brendan, arms wide open.

“Brendan, my baby!” she sobbed, but there were no tears in her small, bright eyes.

Brendan easily avoided her embrace. “Hello, Mom,” he said. “I’m surprised you remember me, I certainly wouldn’t recognize you.”

Rafe smiled, showing that most of his teeth had fallen out. “Now, son, let’s not dwell on the past…” he said. “We’re so happy to see you! Life hasn’t been easy… We’re not the same…”

“Please, my son,” whispered Margaret. “Don’t abandon us!”

“Abandon you?” Brendan asked. “You mean do to you what you did to me?”

“We left the money for you!” shouted Rafe. “You weren’t poor like we are now!”

“You didn’t leave me the money,” Brendan said calmly. “That trust fund was created automatically by my grandfather’s inheritance the moment I was born. You had nothing to do with it.”

“But you know what? I won’t abandon you, not because you deserve better, but because I’m a better person than both of you. I know what love and compassion are. I forgive you, even though you don’t deserve forgiveness, and I will help you. Keep the money!”

Rafe looked at Brendan with tears in his eyes. “We’re so lonely, son, so lonely… What can money buy us now? More lonely days? Please…”

Brendan nodded. “Now you understand how I felt,” he said. “I was a child, and all I wanted was to be loved and wanted. You think the money was any consolation? Now you’re old, and you want to be loved, to be with family.”

“It’s alright, I’ll take you home with me, Dad, Mom. You won’t die alone.”

Brendan took Margaret and Rafe to his home and hired a caregiver for them. Margaret loved talking to the grandchildren and great-grandchildren, telling stories about the wild days of the 60s, and playing guitar with Bob Dylan around a campfire.

Rafe would sit by Brendan whenever he could and hold his hand with his fragile grip. Brendan donated the huge fortune accumulated in his trust fund to the orphanage that had raised him and shown him what love and care truly were.

What Can We Learn from This Story?

Money cannot replace love. Brendan’s parents abandoned him and left him a lot of money, but they didn’t give him love or care.

Bitterness is a poison, and forgiveness is the only antidote. Brendan carried resentment against his parents in his heart until he finally forgave them.

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