The teacher said, “I’ll give 2 dollars to the child who can tell me who was the most famous man who ever lived.”

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The teacher said, “I’ll give 2 dollars to the child who can tell me who was the most famous man who ever lived.”


An Irish boy put his hand up and said, “It was St. Patrick.” The teacher said, “Sorry Sean, that’s not correct.”

Then a French boy put his hand up and said, “It was Napoleon.” The teacher replied, “I’m sorry, Pierre, that’s not right either.”

Finally, a Jewish boy raised his hand and said, “It was Jesus Christ.” The teacher said, “That’s absolutely right, Maurice, come up here and I’ll give you 2 dollars.”

As the teacher was giving Maurice his money, she said, “You know Maurice, you being Jewish, I was very surprised you said Jesus Christ.”

Maurice replied,... 


Continue 


The Right Answer

“It was Jesus Christ,” a Jewish boy finally said, raising his hand.



“That’s exactly right, Maurice. Come up here and I’ll give you two dollars,” the instructor said.


“You know Maurice, you being Jewish, I was very surprised you said Jesus Christ,” the teacher said as she handed Maurice his money.


In response, Maurice said, “Yes. Although I knew deep down that it was Moses, business is business.

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Homeless Man Asked Me to Take His Dog – A Month Later, I Received a Mysterious Letter

Homeless Man Asked Me to Take His Dog – A Month Later, I Received a Mysterious

Letter


I never thought my routine afternoon would shift drastically, especially because of a stranger's plea. When a homeless man asked me to take care of his dog, I hesitated, overwhelmed by my own difficulties. However, a month later, I received a letter that brought tears to my eyes. What did it say? And how did it connect our lives?


Sometimes, life has a way of catching you off guard when you least anticipate.


It all began with a simple request from a man who deeply loved his dog.


It had been a year since my husband, Jason, died in a car crash. A year of struggling to stay strong, for my 8-year-old son Liam.


Some days felt more challenging than others, but every day felt like a fight.


Losing Jason shattered my world completely.


He was not just my husband. He was my partner. My best friend. My everything.


At first, I thought I couldn't go on.


I would wake up to the emptiness of our bed, the silence where his laughter used to be, and feel a constant pain in my chest.


But every time I wanted to give up, I looked at Liam. He needed me.


I couldn't break down when he depended on me.


Liam, my sweet boy, had inherited Jason's kind nature. He would notice when I was having a tough day and quietly curl his arms around me.


It was him saying, "It's okay, Mom," with his tiny voice full of comfort. "I'm here for you."


His words always made me tear up, but they also gave me strength.


That day, as we were leaving the grocery store, Liam was wearing his bulky coat, talking about school projects.


His excitement was one of the few things still able to brighten my worst days.


While loading the grocery bags into our trunk, I saw a man sitting at the parking lot's edge.


He was wrapped under a worn-out blanket, his face red from the cold, beside a small, scruffy dog trembling and pressed against him.


"Mom," Liam said, tugging my sleeve. "The dog looks so cold. Can we help?"


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I glanced at the man, then at Liam. My heart sank. We didn't have much. Money was tight, and I was barely managing.


"Sweetheart, we can't take on another responsibility right now," I said softly, shutting the trunk.


But as we started to leave, the man got up and approached us.


I instinctively froze, holding Liam close.


He began with a hoarse, hesitant voice, "Ma'am, sorry to bother you, but… would you take my dog?"


I blinked, unsure if I heard him right. "Huh?"


He looked down, ashamed.


"My dog's name's Daisy," he said. "She's all I have, but I can't care for her anymore. She's freezing, and I can't feed her well. She deserves better than this."


I didn't know what to reply. The hopelessness in his eyes was clear.


My first instinct was to refuse. How could I possibly take in another dog when I was barely keeping us afloat?


Then Liam tugged my hand with big, pleading eyes.


"Mom, please. She needs us," he whispered urgently.


Looking at Daisy’s matted fur and trembling body, my resolve crumbled. I couldn't say no. Not with Liam’s hopeful face and the man's brokenhearted plea.


"Alright," I whispered, kneeling to pet Daisy. "We'll take her."


His eyes filled with tears. "Thank you," he murmured, voice trembling with emotion. "Thanks so much."


That day, on our way home, I kept stealing glances at Daisy in the backseat. She was curled up next to Liam.


That first night, I hardly slept. Daisy whined softly in the living room, clearly uncomfortable in her new environment.


Liam had spread out his favorite blanket for her—the one with cartoon dinosaurs he refused to sleep without.


"It's okay, Daisy," he said softly, patting her head. "You're safe now. We love you."


Watching them together brought unexpected warmth to my heart.


imagedcb80f362ce2b14b4bd1d2f4df98f72e.webp

Somehow, the heaviness I carried felt a bit lighter. I hadn’t felt this at peace since Jason's death.


Over the next weeks, Daisy became part of our family.


Liam doted on her, feeding her, brushing her tangled coat, and reading her bedtime stories.


"She likes ‘Goodnight Moon’ best," he announced seriously one evening.


I laughed softly. "Really?"


"She wagged her tail when I read it," he insisted, Daisy resting her head on his lap, eyes half-closed.


Daisy filled a gap we didn’t know existed. Happiness.


Liam’s laughs echoed when she chased after a ball or licked his face happily.


Even I found myself smiling more, feeling purposeful in caring for her. It wasn’t just Daisy who needed us. We needed her too.


Then, a month later, something unexpected happened.


On a chilly evening, Liam was doing his homework at the kitchen table while Daisy napped at his feet. I was sorting mail when I spotted an envelope hidden among bills and coupons.


It was plain, with no stamp or return address.

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