Boy Takes Mom’s Last $13 to Start Business, They Move from Tiny Old Trailer to $2M House Later – Story of the Day

Motivating children to work hard with determination helps them become responsible individuals. It was something Atlanta mom Annie Byrne believed in and taught her son, Simon.

“Who cares if my son and I live in a rusty old trailer now? One day, he will take me to a palace and make me its queen!” dreamed the poor widow who worked as a janitor and struggled to make ends meet.
One day, the mother’s prayers were unbelievably answered when her son handed her the keys to their $2M house. But she knew little about the price the boy paid to fulfill her dream…

“Mom, when are we going to start living in a nice house?” 13-year-old Simon asked his mother. “It’s getting colder here, and it’s stuffy inside.”

“…just give me that money, and you won’t regret it…I’m not asking for a penny more, just what you have,” begged the boy.
Annie had no quick reply to that question. She knew it was not going to happen anytime soon. She did not have much in savings, and her salary was barely enough to afford food and education for her son, who was on holiday.

“Very soon…We will move from here very soon, son,” she said in tears. “Now, close your eyes and go to sleep.”

But Annie couldn’t sleep peacefully. She was aware that “very soon” would never arrive. She spent the night near her son, her heart heavy, resigned that misery would cling to them forever.

The next morning, Simon’s friends called him out to play, but the boy refused because he could not be happy whenever he thought about his mom’s struggles. He went for a walk alone and was stunned, looking at one of the boys busy tossing money in a box behind his lemonade stand.

“Whoa! That’s unbelievable!” Simon exclaimed. He, too, wanted to put up a stall and start earning money, but he barely had a quarter in his pocket. Sighing in disappointment, he walked away, thinking about what else he could do to make things better in his life.

“I have an idea!” he said, excited. “Why didn’t I think of it before?” He ran home as fast as he could and was panting when he got there, begging for money from his mother.

“But son, I don’t have much left. I only have $13 and need that to buy bread and eggs. It’s the last bit I have until my next paycheck, which is next week,” Annie grumbled.

Simon was stubborn. “Mom, trust me…just give me that money, and you won’t regret it…I’m not asking for a penny more, just what you have.”

Reluctant but curious, Annie tossed the $13 in Simon’s hands, waiting to see what he was going to do with it.

Later that afternoon, the boy returned home with a bunch of packets in his hand. “What is it?” she asked him, but he ignored her and took a shovel to get started.

Annie watched in disbelief as Simon began shoveling a spot outside their trailer. He tilled it, making several beds, and began to tear the packets he brought a while ago.

“Simon, what are you doing?” Annie asked him. “Are those seeds? Do we have time for all this? What is wrong with you?”

The boy smiled, and after he finished sowing the last packet of seeds, he looked at his mother and said, “Mom, only if we sow today can we reap tomorrow!”

At first, Annie did not understand what the boy meant by that, but for the next several weeks, Simon worked very hard in his garden. He watered it, plucked the weeds, and was delighted to see the first fresh sprouts appear through the cracks of the wet soil.

Soon, a once-barren yard outside their trailer was filled with fresh herbs and plants. Annie was amazed. At first, she thought these were for their domestic use. But Simon did not allow her when she went to pluck a tomato. The mother was shocked by what he then told her.

“Mom, we are not allowed to nibble at our own produce. I’m selling them in the little stall I’m putting up…and we should only use the leftovers if we want to grow big!” said the boy, leaving Annie amazed.

Soon, Simon’s fresh garden produce was what people wanted to take home for a nutritious meal. The boy had used natural pesticides, and everything in his stall sold out pretty quickly as soon as it was displayed.

Gradually, Simon started making more money than he thought. But then he realized his garden was too small to produce more. He expanded it, and this time, he cultivated fruits and exotic flowers along with vegetables.

With more money streaming in, Simon and his mom moved into a rented house near their trailer. Annie quit her job and started to help her son in the field. It boosted Simon’s determination further. Together, the mom and son sold healthy garden produce in their stall, which was now bigger and attracted the town’s attention.

But their unsuspecting success did not do without amassing rivalry and contempt from a wealthy farmer, Alex. The man could not endure the mysterious success of an aspiring young boy and wanted to meet him to learn the tricks of the trade and to beat him in the race to fame.

One day, Alex drove to meet Simon and was astonished to see his garden. He looked around and inhaled deeply, expecting the scent of chemicals, but there was none.

“I’m surprised! How are you able to grow such healthy produce without the infusion of chemical pesticides, son?” he curiously asked the boy.

Simon smiled and said, “We humans can only survive eating food, not poison. So why feed the poor plants toxins when you have natural alternatives to keep them insect and pest-free?!”

The boy’s reply hit Alex hard in the head. He was amazed at the true talent the young Simon was and how smart he was. He regretted hating Simon without knowing his skills and decided to team up with him.

Feeling overwhelmed and impressed by the boy’s ideas of growing naturally healthy garden produce, Alex invited him to work on his farm.

“You don’t have to be a laborer, son. You can be my partner. Together, we can grow nice garden produce, what do you think?” the man offered.

Simon could not believe his ears and ran to his mother to share the news. He asked her opinion on whether to take that next big step, unaware that it would soon change their lives.

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