A Chance Not Lost

I was about 11 years old when all this happened. My sister and I lived in a small house on the edge of the village with our grandparents. Those times gave me warm and happy memories of a carefree childhood. I often remember my grandfather — how we used to go fishing and fix Granny's stuff.

Recently, he left us... It was a very hard time for me. I've always tried to follow his example; he taught me a lot, explained things school never could. I’ll never forget the days I spent with him. Since Grandpa was gone, I began to feel a nagging emptiness deep inside. It’s hard to express this feeling — too intimate, too painful.

My life changed after that. I became more serious. Everything around reminded me of Grandpa. I could hardly smile, and when I did, I immediately thought about him, which made it worse. With him, I lost my happiness and peace. I lost the meaning of life. I tried to move on, but no matter how hard I tried — I couldn’t.

But one day…

I woke up to bright sunlight shining through the window. But soon, the sun disappeared, as if someone blew it into another galaxy. Clouds filled the sky, leaving no room even for the tiniest ray of light.

It was Friday, which meant two days of loneliness ahead. My thoughts grew gloomier. Suddenly, I bumped into someone. I started to apologize — but when I looked up, I froze.

Impossible. It was Jack!

When I lived in the village, the most interesting thing I did was help my grandfather in his little store. Though it was tiny, it was always full of people and had everything you could need. I loved being there. People treated me like an adult; Grandpa taught me how to use the cash register. After the shop closed, I could pick something for myself — a small prize for helping out.

Jack was a boy from the other side of the village. He was a year older and also worked in Grandpa’s shop. We quickly became best friends. We were always up to something. Grandpa also liked him. My grandmother didn’t share our enthusiasm — especially about his work at the shop. She believed the rumors floating around. As a kid, I didn’t pay much attention, but there were many talks about Jack.

After his father left when he was little, Jack's mom played the victim. Very fast, Jack had to take care of his younger brother and the whole house. He often asked the neighbors for small jobs — people got annoyed, and finally, they forced his mom to find work. Otherwise, the children would’ve gone to an orphanage. Still, the family was very poor.

Once, Grandpa offered Jack a job in his store. I arrived soon after. For me and Granddad, the rumors didn’t matter. We knew Jack’s heart — that was enough.

Day by day, that summer — the greatest one — came to an end. On the last day before returning to the city, I was so tired that Grandpa let me sleep in. We had planned to meet at the store after it closed.

While I walked to the shop, a silly idea came to mind. What if I scared Jack as a joke? So I snuck in through the back door. As I stepped inside, I heard a rustling sound... then the click of the cashbox. Quietly, I crept toward the front. Jack stood there, near the register, counting money. A strange feeling crept over me — something was wrong. The moment Jack slipped the banknotes into his pocket, a wave of fury surged through me. Betrayal — a thief!

I was about to confront him when the front door opened — Grandpa entered. In a hurry, Jack tried to put the money back, but it was too late. Grandpa saw everything. But instead of anger, which I expected, his eyes were full of... sadness? Slowly, he walked toward Jack, who stood silently, head down.

Grandpa gently placed his hand on Jack's shoulder.

— "Well, what should we do? You don’t think I’ll call the police, do you?" — he smiled weakly.

Jack looked up, stunned.

— "I understand everything. It's okay. You can keep the money and go home," — Grandpa said.

— "What? No, I can’t… I shouldn’t. I’m sorry," — he lowered his head. — "Thank you for giving me a chance, but I lost it. I should leave now."

He placed the money back and turned to go, but Grandpa stopped him.

— "Jack, you’re a good person. Honest. Brave. You were the perfect assistant — and an even better friend."

The anger inside me melted, but I still couldn't understand grandfather.

— "You haven’t lost your chance. You still have time to change your life. Don’t paint yourself into a corner. And if you decide to return… I’ll be here."

That evening, our parents arrived. I didn’t say goodbye to Jack. I was hurt. I told myself I didn’t care.

Next summer, I came back. It was a nice time too, but not the same. I had time to think. I began to understand Jack. I realized I didn’t even have the right to judge him. I wanted to talk to him, but it was too late. Jack's family had moved away. We lost contact.

I never forgot that summer. That accident. And now — Jack is standing in front of me.

We hugged and went to a café. While waiting for our order, we shared funny childhood memories.

Jack told me that after leaving the village, he found a part-time job, studied hard, and got into a state school. Sadly, their mother never had a steady job. He kept helping his brother and mom. Eventually, he went to university, met the love of his life, and now has a good job and a happy family.

At the end, he said: — "You know, everything I have now — it’s because of your grandfather. I never got the chance to thank him. But he changed my life. If he had kicked me out that day, even without calling the police… I don’t know where I’d be now. Probably in jail. But he believed in me."

As I listened, I felt peace in my heart. My grandfather always was near, and he is still with us.

— "He believed in you, yes," I said. "But you were the one who took the chance and changed your life."