A Christmas That Froze More Than the Snow
When Grandma passed away, my relatives swarmed her house like vultures, desperate to find her will.
I didn’t care about the money. I was the only one who took her old dog, Berta, home, unaware that Grandma had left me more than memories. Days later, I uncovered a secret Grandma had hidden in a place no one else would even think to check.
In my family, bringing everyone together usually required throwing a pile of cash in front of them—or waiting for someone to die. Sadly, that day, it was both.
I stood at the cemetery, shivering as Grandma was lowered into the cold, frozen ground. Berta tugged on her leash, whining softly, as if she wanted to follow Grandma one last time.
Berta had been Grandma’s companion for years. Grandma had bought her when I was little and often said, “Berta is my best friend, the only one I can truly trust.” She loved that dog more than anything.
Grandma was a kind woman, though she had her quirks. She had made a fortune in her life but never gave a penny to her children or grandchildren. Instead, she funded our educations, insisting that everyone should rise from nothing, just like she had.
Because of her tough love, my mom, uncle, aunt, and cousins barely spoke to her—until her death. Now, I could see the reason they’d come: money. But knowing Grandma, I doubted it would be that easy for them.
For the last six months of her life, I had moved in to care for her while balancing my job as a nurse. It wasn’t easy, but Grandma appreciated it. Still, she never made life easy for me. I remembered the day I got a massive car repair bill.
“I don’t know how I’m supposed to pay for this,” I complained.
“You’re a strong girl. You’ll manage,” Grandma said, her eyes steady but kind.
She never spoiled me, not even a little. But she guided me, encouraged me, and I was grateful for that.
After the funeral, everyone headed to Grandma’s house for the will. I had packed my things in advance—I knew no one would let me stay. The room was tense, full of cold stares.
Aunt Florence broke the silence. “Meredith, remind me, what kind of doctor are you?”
“I’m a nurse,” I said simply.
“A nurse?” Uncle Jack repeated, incredulous. “You won’t make any money that way. Tom has his car company, and Alice owns several beauty salons,” he added, gesturing to my cousins, who looked smug and superior.
“I help people. That’s enough for me,” I said calmly.
“I can’t believe I gave birth to her,” Mom muttered. I only spoke to her three times a year—on our birthdays and Christmas.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang. No one moved, so I went to answer it.
It was Mr. Johnson, the lawyer handling Grandma’s will. I led him into the living room, where the family waited in silence.
“I won’t take much of your time,” he said politely. “There isn’t much to discuss.”
“What do you mean, not much to discuss? What about the will?” Mom snapped.
“She must have left something,” Uncle Jack said impatiently.
“It seems Cassandra didn’t think so,” Mr. Johnson replied flatly.
“What do you mean?” Aunt Florence asked, confused.
“None of you will receive any inheritance from Cassandra,” he said.
The room erupted in shocked gasps.
“How is that possible?! We’re her family!” Mom yelled. “Who will get the money and the house?!”
“I’m afraid I can’t share that information,” Mr. Johnson said. “Now, I must ask all of you to leave the house.”
Uncle Jack shouted, “That old witch! I knew she didn’t care about us, but not even a penny after she died?!”
“Don’t say that,” I said quickly. “Grandma cared about us. She worried about everyone; she just showed it in her own way.”
“Yeah, right,” Mom muttered. “She was a witch in life and still is in death.”
At that moment, Berta barked loudly.
“Oh right, what are we going to do with that dog?” Aunt Florence asked.
“Put her down,” Mom said coldly.
“She’s as old as dirt anyway,” Uncle Jack added.
“You can’t put her down!” I shouted.
“And what are we supposed to do with her? Better than throwing her out,” Mom argued.
“Grandma loved Berta. Someone has to take care of her,” I said firmly.
The room filled with bitter laughter.
“If you want her, then take her,” Mom said. “That woman didn’t care about us. Why should we care about her dog?”
“My lease doesn’t allow pets,” I said quietly.
“Then it’s decided—we’ll put her down,” Uncle Jack declared.
“Tom? Alice?” I looked to my cousins, pleading.
“No way. Not bringing a flea-ridden animal into my house,” Alice said, shaking her head.
Tom waved dismissively.
I sighed, defeated. “Fine. I’ll take Berta.”
Mr. Johnson cleared his throat. “I’ll ask one last time—please leave the house. You no longer have rights here.”
Everyone grumbled but eventually left. I packed Berta’s things, helped her into the car, and drove back to my apartment. My landlord allowed her to stay—though he raised the rent.
Berta missed Grandma, just as I did. Grandma had been the only family member to truly support me—she had paid for my education, asked about my work, and celebrated every success. I missed her terribly.
One night after a long hospital shift, I heard a knock.
“Mom? What are you doing here?” I asked, surprised.
“I know you have it!” she shouted.
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“I know you inherited everything from Grandma!”
“All I inherited was Berta,” I said.
“What?” she didn’t understand.
“Berta, Grandma’s dog,” I clarified.
“Don’t lie to me!” she screamed. “You lived with her for six months! She must have left everything to you! You were her favorite granddaughter!”
“Grandma didn’t give me money, just like she didn’t give you anything,” I said firmly.
“Liar! Where is it?!” Mom yelled.
“I have nothing!” I cried, tears streaming down my face. Berta climbed into my lap, trying to comfort me.
Then something on her collar caught my eye. I took it off and saw an engraved address and the number 153. I typed it into my GPS.
It led to the train station, locker 153. But what about the key?
I noticed the tag on Berta’s collar could open. A tiny key fell into my hand.
Without hesitation, I went straight to the station, unlocked locker 153, and found a folder labeled “For Meredith.”
Inside was a note in Grandma’s handwriting:
“I decided to leave everything to a person with a pure heart who will not exploit others. Everything I own will go to the person who agrees to care for Berta. And I am certain that person is you, Meredith. You are the only one left in our family with decency, and you deserve the best. With love, your Grandma.”
I stared in disbelief. The folder held Grandma’s will.
“Aha! I knew you were hiding something!” my mother shouted from behind.
Startled, I turned. “I swear I didn’t know anything,” I said.
“So she really left everything to Meredith,” Uncle Jack said, stepping forward.
“What are you doing here?!” Mom yelled.
“You didn’t think you were the clever one, sister. I hired a private detective to follow Meredith,” Uncle Jack said smugly. “Now, Meredith, hand over the will.”
“No! You’re my daughter! Give it to me!” Mom screamed.
“Meredith will give it to no one,” Mr. Johnson said firmly.
“The sensor on my phone alerted me when the locker opened,” Mr. Johnson explained. “I am responsible for executing Cassandra’s will and suspected something like this might happen.”
“I don’t care! I’m Meredith’s mother! I have rights!” Mom insisted.
“Cassandra’s estate goes to whoever cared for Berta. That wasn’t you,” Mr. Johnson said calmly.
“I’ll take that flea-ridden dog if I must!” Uncle Jack shouted.
“It’s too late. Meredith took Berta, not knowing she’d inherit anything. That was the condition. Anyone interfering will face me and the police,” Mr. Johnson said.
I held the folder, trembling, barely able to speak.
“Come on, Meredith, we have a lot to discuss,” Mr. Johnson said, and we walked to my car.
“Why did she do this? Make everyone fight?” I asked.
“She wanted her money to go to a good person, someone who would spend it wisely,” he said.
I nodded. “Then I’ll give the larger portion to the hospital,” I decided.
“It’s yours now. Do as you wish,” Mr. Johnson said.
I missed Grandma more than ever, but I knew I wouldn’t let her down.