The Wealthy Woman And The Poor Man

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is the terribly sad story of The Wealthy Woman & The Poor Man.

Submitted: June 27, 2017

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Submitted: June 27, 2017



One day, there was a very poor 

boy. People would pass, and 

frown to themselves, but no one

would stop to greet him. Until 

one day, when the poor boy had 

almost packed up and gone, a 

woman. With brown hair, tied 

up in a neat bun, wearing a little 

red dress, stood there, for just 

a while. She looked at him with

the sharpest of pain in her eyes,

and then smiled. She held out 

her hand, small, it was, and 

the boy shook it. He smiled a 

crooked smile and she 

introduced herself. 

"I am Margeret." she had said.

The boy simply replied with a 

nod and a smile, then he held

up his

sign, which read;





The woman smiled and held up

a finger, for him to wait. Her 

nails were also red, matching her 

dress and her lips. He smiled and 

sat, as she trotted away. She later 

came back with a basket. A 

picnic basket, to be exact, and 

she sat it down next to him.

Inside there were, some daises, 

iced tea and water, sandwhiches 

and pie. The boy offered her 

some, but she kindly refused and

told him that he should have it.

He gladly ate it, she left and he 




The next day, the woman 

appeared again, the same spot, 

with a wide smile on her face.

She took the boy's hand and led

him to the bus she usually came

onto. They both arrived at her

home and she led him inside.

He didn't refuse, the gesture was 

nice, he had thought. She set the

table, which was larger than he 

had ever seen, with pies and tea,

buiscuts, and bread. In the center

of the table stood a very small 

vase, with 6 or 7 daisies in 

them. She told him to wash his 

face and hands, and that she 

wouldn't feed him until he'd 

done so. The boy aggreed and

did as she told him to. They sat

at the table, and just as he was

about to begin eating, she 

stopped him and griped his hand.

He looked confused when she

told him he must first pray.

The next day, the boy woke up in 

a soft, comfy bed, with silky 

sheets and fluffy pillows. The 

woman woke him up early and

told him they would go buy him


"But why?" He had asked. The 

woman shook her head and 

smiled. She took him to the store 

and bought him a fancy suit and

tie. She bought him regular 

clothes as well, with shoes and

hats. He had been so grateful.

The boy was extreemly grateful 

to her, but he hadn't known 

how to repay her. Sometimes

he would give her his buiscuts at 

dinner, or make her breakfast.

One day, when he turned 18, and

the woman had lost her youth,

she said, 

"Now it is time for you to find a 

job, and bless me with 

grandkids." she shakily hugged 

him, now much taller than she

was, and sent him off. He looked

rich, and wealthy for that is what

she had given him, and now he

had found a job. Later on, when 

he had fallen in love, he asked

the woman, "May I please 

borrow some money, for I need 

to take my love out on a date."

and the woman didn't refuse.

She gave him his money and 

sent him off. Later on, he had 

heard that the woman became 

very ill. He came to the 

hospital, where the woman lay, 

and held her wrinkly, soft hands 

in his. A tear ran down his cheek

as she said, "Farewell." and she

handed him one, single daisy.



Now, this boy was a man. He 

had children of his own, and 

every night, he would pray,

and ask, how he could've

repayed her. Somehow.


"Why do you always keep that 

dead old daisy in your pocket?" 

asked his love. He replied simply

with a warm, sad smile and said,

"A wealthy old woman gave it to









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