When Grandma passed away, my relatives rushed to her house, eager to see what she had left behind. I was the only one who took her loyal dog, Berta, home—choosing to honor Grandma’s memory instead of searching for valuables. While everyone waited anxiously for the lawyer, I stayed silent, holding on to the comfort Berta gave me. Caring for Grandma in her final months had shown me what mattered most to her, but I never imagined Berta carried a secret message meant only for me.
When the lawyer revealed that none of my relatives would receive an inheritance, the room sank into disappointment. Their attention quickly shifted to Berta, whom no one wanted to care for. Even though my small apartment wasn’t ideal, I gladly took her home, knowing Grandma would have trusted me with her. Life with Berta felt warm and familiar, a living reminder of Grandma’s gentle encouragement. But one evening, after a long shift at the hospital, everything changed.
My mother arrived at my door, insisting I was hiding something valuable. I explained again that I had only inherited Berta, but she didn’t believe me. Later that night, while petting Berta, I noticed a tiny opening in her collar containing a tag with an address and locker number. Curious and nervous, I followed the clue and found a small key that led to a storage locker at the train station.
Inside the locker was an envelope labeled “For Meredith,” along with documents and a heartfelt letter from Grandma. In it, she explained that her savings were meant for the person who chose to love Berta without expecting anything in return. She trusted that person would be me.
Reading her words filled me with gratitude. Though my relatives tried to challenge it, the lawyer confirmed her wishes were final. With Grandma’s trust in my hands, I decided to use much of the inheritance to support the hospital where I worked—carrying forward her spirit of kindness and generosity.
