The moonlight filtered through the cottage window, faintly illuminating the room as Oliver lay in bed, reading, when he heard his grandmother Agnes’s voice.
“Dinner’s ready, Oliver,” she said. “Come, boy!”
“Not now, Grandma!” Oliver sighed. “I was at the best part!”
Oliver was intrigued as he turned the page of his book under the dim light of the bedside lamp.
He didn’t want to put the book down.
However, he closed the book and went down for dinner.
When it came to storybooks, Oliver was a bookworm.
He read them every evening before dinner, on the bus to school, and whenever he could.
His family and the cottage they lived in were both small.
Oliver’s family consisted of Grandma Agnes and his younger sister, Eve.
His mother had died of cancer years ago, and his father had abandoned them after that.
They all held hands, said a short prayer, and began eating while Oliver sat at the table.
He excitedly talked about the detective story he was reading, then wiped his mouth with his sleeve and continued telling the story with all his heart.
When Agnes heard Oliver enthusiastically talk about the books he read, she felt sad for him.
They were poor, and she knew well that the money she gave him for lunch was instead spent on those books.
Agnes was heartbroken because the boy was skipping meals.
Agnes thought about finding another job so that Oliver wouldn’t have to miss lunch, but Eve was young and needed someone to take care of her, and Agnes’s health wasn’t great.
Every evening, she smiled with a heavy heart while Oliver narrated the stories he had read.
She regretted not being a better grandmother.
After everyone had finished eating, Oliver helped Agnes clean the table before returning to his books and falling asleep while reading.
Oliver was reading his book on the bus the next day when he heard a noise and looked up.
He noticed the bus driver yelling at a woman with thick black glasses as she pleaded with him to let her on the bus.
“You better get off, ma’am,” the driver said dryly.
“I’m tired of excuses for not paying the fare!”
“I’m not lying, sir,” she pleaded.
“Please help me! Someone at the hospital will pay you!”
“OUT!” the driver shouted, indifferent.
“Others have tried before. Don’t waste my time.” Knowing she couldn’t persuade the driver, the old woman was about to step off, bracing herself for the chilly winds blowing through the city when Oliver stepped in.
“I’ll pay her fare, sir!” he exclaimed. “Please, come with me, ma’am.
You don’t need to get off.” Oliver helped the old blind woman sit next to him and paid her fare.
He asked if she was okay when he returned to his seat, and she smiled.
“Thank you so much, child,” she expressed her gratitude. “You have the sweet voice of a little boy!”
“I’m a big boy! I’m not a child!” Oliver exclaimed proudly. “Hi, my name’s Oliver. What happened to your daughter?”
“My name is Mary,” she introduced herself. “My daughter just gave birth, and I need to see her. Oliver, I really appreciate your help today.”
“It was no problem, Mary,” said Oliver, although it was.
He had been saving the money spent on the woman’s fare to buy the next book in the series he was reading.
But he couldn’t let Mary be in danger.
“Where are you headed, Oliver?” she asked suddenly.
Oliver told her he was going to school, and they chatted briefly before Oliver’s stop arrived, and he got off.
Oliver felt a connection with Mary. She reminded him of Agnes.
She listened to him with the same patience Agnes had when he would tell her how much he loved books.
“I’ll tell Grandma about her. She’d be proud of what I did!”
He thought as he walked toward school.
And that’s exactly what he did. Instead of talking about his books that evening, Oliver spoke about Mary and the kind gesture he had done for her.
“Well done, Oliver,” Agnes said. “What a thoughtful thing to do, dear!”
Oliver had no idea that evening that he would meet Mary’s son the next morning.
So he was puzzled the next day when a tall man appeared at his door.
“Are you Oliver?” the man asked.
“Yes, I am,” Oliver replied as Eve and Agnes came closer to the door.
“How can we help you, young man?” Agnes asked.
“Have you ever met Oliver?” The man smiled.
“My name is Jake. I wanted to thank Oliver for helping my mother yesterday. I got your address by asking around at the bus stop near your home. I’ve brought something for Oliver…” The man stepped out and returned with a box full of books!
When Oliver saw the books, he exclaimed, “I can’t believe it!”
“Did Mary tell you I like reading?” Jake nodded.
“She did, and I hope you like your surprise!”
“Oh, my,” exclaimed Agnes. “These must have cost you more than what Oliver spent. We can’t just accept all of this.”
“Yes, Jake,” Oliver added sadly. “You can’t buy so many books for $3!”
“You can keep them all, Oliver,” said Jake.
“I’m not sure how much you heard about Oliver’s story, ma’am,” he continued, looking at Agnes, “but my mother hadn’t been able to visit my sister since she became pregnant.”
So yesterday’s trip was crucial for her, and it could only happen because of Oliver.
So, please give me a chance. I insist.”
In the end, Jake convinced Agnes to accept the books, which meant the world to Oliver!
“Mary is amazing! Please tell her I appreciated the books, Jake!”
The little boy chirped. “I will, buddy!” Jake exclaimed, smiling.
“She’ll be glad to hear it.”
Afterward, Jake enjoyed a delicious cup of raspberry tea with Agnes’s homemade cookies and helped the family with household repairs and electricity supplies after noticing their struggles.
Of course, Agnes protested, but Jake convinced her and helped them once again.
