Dear Mum, your advice about my generosity inspired meIve gifted your tea set to Auntie.
“Mum, youve always said I was selfish,” her daughter replied with a smirk. “So I gave Aunt Margaret your best china.”
Since childhood, Emily had grown used to her toys never staying long in the house. Her mother, Beatrice Whittaker, had a pesky habit of regifting her daughters belongings whenever she visited friends.
“Mum, why did you take my doll?” Emily asked, her voice trembling.
“Emily, love, I know how much you adore her, but the little girl across the road is poorly and ever so sad. I thought our doll might cheer her up. We can always buy another, but chances to do a good deed dont come often,” Beatrice explained, smoothing Emilys hair.
Emily stared at the doll, then at her mother, a tear slipping free. She didnt want to part with her favourite toy.
Sadly, what others thought mattered more to Beatrice Whittaker than her daughters tears.
“Dont be such a miserits unbecoming,” she huffed before shooing Emily off to do her homework.
As she grew, Emilys books and clothes joined the parade of gifts for others. At first, she resigned herself, believing her mother acted out of kindness and that she truly was selfish.
But with time, Emily realised Beatrice wasnt being kindjust careless. Resentment simmered inside her.
“Off to Aunt Margaretsback late,” Beatrice announced, plucking Emilys winter coat from the hook.
“Planning to wear my coat, are you?” Emily laughed, watching her mother clutch the too-small jacket.
“Dont be daftit wouldnt fit me! Youre far slimmer,” Beatrice said with an awkward smile.
“Then whyd you take it down?” Emily pressed, serious now.
“Promised it to Margarets girl. Hers is torn, and they wont buy a new one since springs nearly here,” Beatrice dodged.
“And Im supposed to wear a ripped coat?” Emily gaped.
“Youll hardly need it soon! Or borrow mine,” Beatrice snapped.
Emily glared, anger rising. *Why does she always give my things away? Why does she think this is normal?*
For the first time, she marched over and yanked the coat back.
“Mum, why do you keep handing my stuff off? Its not normal!” Emily gritted out.
“Youre far too selfish. Sharing is important,” Beatrice scolded.
“Then share *your* things! Why always mine?” Emily shot back.
Beatrice stared, baffled, as if the concept had never occurred to her. Then she flounced off in a huff.
Victorious, Emily rehung her coat. She spent the day prouduntil the next morning, when the scene repeated. This time, Beatrice didnt ask. She snatched the coat and left.
Emily cried in frustration. That day, she resolved to escape.
When Beatrice returned, she noticed her daughters disappointmentand felt a flicker of guilt. But pride smothered it. Slowly, Emilys resentment hardened into determination.
She studied fiercely, earning a university spot. Moving into student halls brought unexpected relief. Even a cramped dorm felt safer than home.
Years passed. Graduated and employed, Emily rented her own flat. Despite the past, she still called her mother and visited occasionally.
During one visit, Beatrice eyed Emilys new jeans.
“Emily, Ill give these to Margarettheyll fit her perfectly,” she said breezily.
“Mum, *again*? I bought these myself. Hands off,” Emily snapped.
Beatrice blinked. “Why so stingy? Even as a child, you never shared!”
“Easy to be generous with someone elses things. Try giving away *yours*,” Emily challenged.
Beatrice scowled but left silent. That night, Emily plotted revenge.
Her late fathers sisters birthday loomed. Aunt Margaret adored herunlike Beatrice, whom she barely tolerated. The day before, Emily slipped into her mothers house and swiped a cherished porcelain set.
Aunt Margaret was thrilled. Beatrice? Less so.
“Wheres my porcelain set? It was immaculate!” she demanded.
“Mum, you always say sharing is kind,” Emily beamed. “So I gave it to Aunt Margaret. She loved it.”
Beatrice gaped. “You shouldve asked!”
“Did *you* ever ask before taking my things?” Emily countered.
“Children dont teach adults! *I* paid for thoseI decide where they go!” Beatrice shrieked.
“Dad bought that set, so really, its my inheritance Ive gifted,” Emily said sweetly.
Furious, Beatrice threw her out. She didnt speak to Emily for over a yearuntil New Years Eve, when loneliness thawed her pride. She picked up the phone.
