Peter’s early life was filled with instability. His mother moved from man to man, home to home, always treating him with irritation despite her charm toward strangers. At five, after a visit from a social worker, she packed a small bag for him, drove to a building, and announced she was leaving him there. She signed papers, pushed him away when he begged her to stay, and walked out without looking back.

The “sour-faced” woman who received him turned out to be kind. Peter soon adjusted to orphanage life—regular meals, school, and some friends—but he kept himself closed off, just as he had with his mother. Even the doctor assigned to help him couldn’t break through. That changed when he met Nadine, the janitor, a warm, strong woman with a lightning-white streak in her hair. She spoke to him daily, showing him consistent kindness.

A year later, Nadine became his foster mother. At first, Peter didn’t unpack his suitcase, expecting to be sent away again. Over time, he realized Nadine was there to stay. He called her “Mom” and thrived under her care, eventually becoming a successful, loving man.

One day, a hospital called—his biological mother was sick and had listed him as next of kin. When Peter arrived, he saw the once-beautiful woman, now frail and toothless. She claimed she was too ill to leave, but the doctor said otherwise.

Peter took her home, explaining he was not like her—his real mom had raised him to care for others. He nursed her back to health, but months later she vanished, stealing valuables.

Peter wasn’t bitter. He had done what was right, honoring the values Nadine had given him, and proved himself the good man she always knew he would be.