A rich young woman mocks the janitor at her father’s company and he decides to teach her a lesson she will never forget.
Danielle Grobber was used to having everything her own way. She was beautiful, intelligent, talented, and very, very rich. Or at least, Danielle’s father was very rich and she’d always thought of his money as hers.
So Danielle, or Danie, as her friends called her, was more than a little spoiled, but she always managed to charm her way out of trouble with her sweet talk and her dazzling smile. Then she crossed a line, and her father taught her a life lesson she would never forget.
Danielle was about to go off on a two-week dream vacation to the Caribean and had talked her father into taking her on a shopping spree. Not that Danie was in need of anything, she just loved shopping with her dad.
Unfortunately, he had to skip their lunch to attend to some urgent issues, and so she’d wandered around a bit before walking into a famous fast food restaurant and ordering herself a burger with all the trimmings, fries, a large soda, and an apple pie.
She took her order and walked back to her dad’s building which was surrounded by a well-tended lawn dotted with shady trees, comfortable benches, and murmuring fountains. She sat and ate her food while she texted her friends on her phone.
When she finished, she wiped her lips, crumpled the napkin, and carefully applied lipstick. Then she got up and started to walk away, leaving all the packaging and left-overs on the bench.
A voice stopped her in her tracks. “Excuse me, miss!” the voice said. “Please pick up your trash and put it in the bin.”
Treat everyone with respect if you want to be respected.
Danie turned around and stared at a thin elderly man in a janitor’s uniform who was sweeping the garden path. “Excuse me?” she asked. “Are you talking to ME?”
“Yes, young lady,” the man said. “This little park is for the people who work here to enjoy, and I don’t think it’s fair to leave rubbish behind.”
“I don’t clean up!” Danie said arrogantly. “People clean up for ME. People like you, the servant class — isn’t that your job? So do it — clean it up!”
The elderly man flushed. “Young lady,” he said. “My job is to keep this building and this garden spick and span but what you did is disrespectful…”
Danie interrupted him rudely. “You work for my father, which means you work for me! If I tell you to clean up, you clean up, if I tell you to lick my shoes, you lick my shoes or I’ll get you fired!”
It was at that moment that Danie heard a voice like thunder: “DANIELLE!” She turned around to find her father standing there looking furious. “Who do you think you are?” Jack Grobber asked her. “How dare you humiliate this man, who has worked for me for over 20 years. A hard-working man, with a family!”
“Daddy?” said Danie in her best little girl voice. “Please don’t be mad at me…I’m sooo sorry!” But under her sweet smile, Jack caught a flicker of mockery. Danie thought she was going to get away with this, just like she’d gotten away with everything in the past.
“Apologize to Mr. Terence, Danielle,” Jack ordered and watched as his daughter turned to the janitor with her most charming manner — but now he knew it was all an act.
“It’s my fault,” Jack thought. “I have to put this right!” But how do you undo a lifetime of indulgence and teach a young woman respect and responsibility?
Then Jack had a brilliant idea. “Mr. Terence, you look very tired!” he said. “I think you need a vacation!”
Mr. Terence smiled and shook his head. “My wife says the same, Mr. Grobber, but I’m saving up my vacation days for the end of the year so we can spend Christmas with the grandchildren!”
“That’s quite alright, Mr. Terence,” Jack said. “I’m giving you two weeks off and an all-expenses-paid trip to the Bahamas for you and your wife!”
Mr. Terence’s gaped. “Sir? The Bahamas…But who will fill in for me?”
“Don’t worry, Mr. Terence,” Jack said smiling. “My daughter Danielle will be more than happy to fill in for you, to make up for the unpleasant way she treated you.”
“WHAT?” screamed Danie, “Are you mad, daddy? I’m going on vacation…”
“Not anymore,” Jack said. “Mr. and Mrs. Terence are going in your place, and you will do his job while he is away.”
“YOU CAN’T DO THAT TO ME!” screamed Danielle. “I’m not a janitor! Cleaning toilets? Sweeping? Picking up other people’s trash? I won’t do it!”
“Yes you will,” her father said coldly. “Or I will cut off your allowance, take away that convertible…”
“It’s MY car!” cried Danie.
“No, Danielle,” Jack said quietly. “It’s MY car. I paid for it, I pay for the insurance and the gas. It’s all mine. Everything you have, I give you, so I think it’s time you learned how hard people have to work for every dollar.”
Danie knew her father very well, and by the look in his eyes, she realized she’d crossed some boundary. He would not be sweet-talked out of this crazy notion!
“You start on Monday,” Jack told her, then he turned to Mr. Terence. “And you’d better go home and pack, Mr. Terence! Bon Voyage!”
Monday morning Danie was there in her uniform, cleaning and sweeping, and emptying trash cans. By the end of the day she was exhausted, her beautiful nails were ruined, and her soft pampered hands were red and sore.
By the time Mr. Terence came back from the Bahamas with an amazing tan, Danie was quite an expert at the job and he was happy to report to Mr. Grobber that she’d left everything spick and span — no trash in the garden!
As for Danie, she never again disrespected anyone for doing a hard day’s work because she knew exactly what that felt like!
I Found a Girl Alone on a Dark Road – What I Saw When I Got Closer Will Haunt You
Driving alone on a foggy night, a mother sees a young girl in a torn dress, quiet and strangely familiar. As she drives closer, she notices the girl’s sad eyes, filled with secrets that might be best left unknown.
It was late, and the night seemed darker than ever. The fog hugged the car like a thick blanket, hiding everything beyond the headlights. I squinted ahead, holding the steering wheel tighter than usual.
“Just get home,” I whispered, rubbing my tired eyes. It had been a long day at work, and I couldn’t wait to crawl into bed.
I always avoided this road. I usually took the main highway, but tonight, I thought: A quick shortcut will save time.
Then, I noticed something in the distance. A shadow in the middle of the road. I slammed on the brakes, heart pounding. The outline was faint, but it was there in the mist.
“Please just be a tree or a mailbox,” I whispered, though I knew it wasn’t. As I drove closer, I realized it was a girl. She looked thin, and her white dress was in tatters.
A chill ran down my spine. Every instinct told me to turn back, but something held me there.
I cracked open the window, my voice shaky. “Are you okay?”
I stepped out of the car with a flashlight. The beam lit up her face, and I gasped, stumbling back. I knew that face. The pale skin, the wide eyes—it was my daughter.
“Emily?” I whispered, barely believing it. She looked at me, eyes empty and wide.
“Mommy?” Her voice was faint, like a distant echo.
Shock and relief overwhelmed me. It was Emily, my daughter who’d been missing for five years. She had vanished without a trace, and no one knew what had happened to her.
“Emily, oh my God… it’s you,” I stammered, stepping closer. “Are you hurt? Where have you been?”
She blinked slowly, her expression blank. “I… don’t know,” she murmured. Her voice was soft, like she hadn’t spoken in years.
I knelt in front of her, heart racing. “It’s okay, honey. It’s me. We’re going home now, alright?” I wrapped my coat around her thin shoulders and led her to the car. She sat silently in the passenger seat, staring out into the fog.
The drive home was quiet. I glanced over at her, but her face was blank, as if she were somewhere far away.
“Emily,” I asked gently, “do you remember anything? Anything at all?”
She didn’t look at me. “A room. It was dark. There was a man, but I can’t remember his face.”
My throat tightened. “You’re safe now, sweetheart. We’re going home.”
When we got home, she sat on the couch, looking around as if everything was unfamiliar. I asked if she remembered the place, but she only shrugged. Her voice was flat and empty.
“Mom,” she whispered, “I’m… cold.”
I wrapped a blanket around her, feeling her icy skin. The days that followed were tense. Emily was distant, barely speaking. The only time I heard her voice clearly was when she sang an old lullaby I used to sing to her. It felt strange because she shouldn’t have remembered it.
One day, I found her looking at old photo albums. Her fingers traced a picture of her father, Mark. He had died when she was a baby.
“Mom?” she said, confused. “I know him.”
I felt a chill. “That’s your dad, honey. I’ve told you about him.”
She shook her head slowly. “No, I know him from… the place.”
A cold wave of fear washed over me. Emily couldn’t remember Mark, but she knew someone who looked like him. It had to be his brother, Jake. They looked so alike, almost like twins.
I couldn’t ignore the feeling anymore. I needed answers.
The next morning, I drove to our old family cabin deep in the woods. It had been abandoned for years, but something felt off when I arrived. One of the windows was covered with a cloth. Why would someone do that?
I pushed the door open, dust swirling in the air. Everything was untouched except for a small room in the back. Inside, toys lay scattered, worn but well-loved. My heart sank. This was where Emily had been kept.
I called the police immediately. Hours later, Emily sat quietly with me as the officers searched the cabin. She clutched her blanket, looking small and sad.
“Mommy… I remember now,” she whispered. “It was Uncle Jake. He looked like Daddy, but different. He would bring food and hum that song.”
The police confirmed it that night. They found enough evidence to arrest Jake. He confessed, saying he had taken Emily to “protect” her, wanting her to rely on him. It was twisted and horrifying to realize he had been so close all this time.
When Emily heard the truth, she broke down, crying out the pain she had held inside for so long. I hugged her tightly, rocking her gently. “You’re safe now,” I whispered. “No one will take you away again.”
In the days that followed, Emily started to open up more. She would hum the lullaby at night, as if testing if it was safe to sing it again.
One evening, we sat together by the window. She leaned against me, and I softly hummed the lullaby like I used to. She looked up at me with a hint of peace in her eyes.
“I love you, Mommy,” she whispered.
Tears filled my eyes as I held her close. “I love you too, sweetheart. Forever.”
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