“Dear Mum, your advice about generosity inspired meI gave your tea set to Auntie.”
“Mum, you always said I was selfish,” replied the girl with a smile. “So I gave your tea set to Aunt Margaret.”
Ever since she was little, Emily was used to her toys never staying long in the house. Her mother, Margaret Whitmore, had a frustrating habit of gifting her daughters belongings when she visited friends.
“Mum, why did you take my doll?” Emily asked, her voice uneasy.
“Emily, darling, I know how much you love that doll, but the little girl across the road is poorly and very sad right now. I thought our doll might cheer her up. We can always buy a new one, but chances to do something kind dont come often,” her mother explained, stroking Emilys hair.
Emily stared at the doll, thoughtful, then at her mother, and a tear escaped. She didnt want to part with her favourite toy.
Sadly, others opinions mattered more to Margaret Whitmore than her daughters tears.
“Dont whineits not good to be so tight-fisted,” she snapped before sending Emily off to do her homework.
As she grew, Emilys books and clothes were added to the gifts for others.
At first, she accepted it, thinking her mother meant well and that she was truly selfish.
But in time, Emily realised her mother wasnt acting out of kindness, and bitterness grew in her.
“Im going to Aunt MariesIll be back late,” Margaret announced, taking down Emilys winter coat.
“Youre wearing my coat?” Emily laughed, spotting her mother with it.
“Dont be sillyits too small for me. Youre much slimmer,” her mother replied with an awkward smile.
“Then why did you take it?” Emily asked sharply.
“I promised it to Marie for her daughter. Her coats torn, and they wont buy a new one since springs coming,” her mother dodged.
“So I should wear a torn coat?” Emily shot back, shocked.
“You wont need it soon. Or you can borrow mine,” Margaret replied, flustered.
Emily kept staring, anger rising.
“Why does she always give my things away? Why does she think its normal?” she wondered.
For the first time, she marched forward, snatched back her coat.
“Mum, I dont understandwhy do you keep giving my things away? Its not right!” Emily said through gritted teeth.
“Youre too selfish. Sharing is important,” Margaret scolded, frowning.
“Then why always my things? My toys, my books, my clothes? Ill sharebut why always mine? Give her *your* coat.”
Her mother stared, puzzled, as if she didnt understand.
Then she left without a word, offended. Relieved, Emily hung the coat back.
She spent the day proud of standing her groundbut the next day, it happened again.
This time, Margaret didnt ask. She grabbed the coat and hurried out.
When Emily noticed, she cried in frustration. That day, she realised shed only keep her things by leaving home.
Returning, Margaret saw her daughters disappointment and felt a flicker of guiltbut pride smothered it.
Slowly, Emilys resentment turned to resolve. She worked harder, earned a university place.
Moving into student halls, she felt unexpected reliefeven sharing with three others, her room felt safer than home.
Years passed. She graduated, got a steady job, rented a flat, built her own life.
Despite old grudges, Emily still called her mother, visited sometimes.
During one visit, Margaret, out of habit, decided to give away Emilys new jeans.
“Emily, Ill give these to Matildathey should fit her,” she said casually.
“Mum, *again*? Theyre mine. I bought them myselfIm not giving them away,” Emily snapped.
Margaret frowned. “Why so stingy? Even as a child, you werent generous.”
“Easy to be generous with other peoples thingstry giving *yours*,” Emily shot back.
Her mother glared but left silently.
That day, Emily plotted to teach her mother a lessonto reclaim her childhood.
Her late fathers sisters birthday was coming. Aunt Margaret liked her, unlike her mother, whom she ignored.
The night before, Emily slipped in and took Margarets prized porcelain setold but flawless, perfect for a gift.
Aunt Margaret was delighted. But when her mother noticed it missing, she was livid.
“What have you done with my porcelain set? I treasured it!” Margaret demanded.
“You always said sharing is good,” Emily smiled. “So I gave it to Aunt Margaret. She loved it.”
Margaret stared, speechless.
“You shouldve asked me first!”
“Did you *ever* ask before taking my things?” Emily countered.
“Children dont teach adults! I bought those thingsI decide!” Margaret shouted.
“Dad bought that set, so its my inheritance I gave away,” Emily scoffed.
Furious, Margaret threw her out.
She ignored Emily for over a year, never answering callsthe wound was deep.
But as the New Year neared, she reconsidered, reaching out to mend things.
