The money isn’t much, but I want them to live with righteousness and harmony.

Don’t make my soul sad in the afterlife.”

I hugged the paper, crying uncontrollably. Mom had planned everything. It was her way of testing us.

I called my siblings, and when they arrived, I placed the note in front of them. They remained silent, their eyes lowered. The room was filled with a heavy silence, broken only by sobs.

My Decision

I told them calmly:

“Mom left this for the three of us. I won’t keep anything for myself. I propose we divide it equally. But please remember: money is important, yes, but what she wanted most was for us to live in peace.”

The eldest lowered his head, his voice hoarse:

“I… was wrong. I only thought about the money and forgot Mom’s words.”

The second, with moist eyes, added:

“She suffered so much… and we didn’t get to thank her.”

We were silent for a long time. Finally, we agreed to divide the money into three equal parts. Each of us took our own, as a memory of our mother.

The Destiny of Each

My eldest brother: He used to be stingy, but after this blow, he changed completely. He used his share for his children’s education and visits Mom’s grave every month, as if seeking redemption.

My second brother: Always impulsive, but Mom’s letter transformed him. He donated part of the money to the poor, “to earn merit for her,” he said.

Me: I saved my share without spending it. I created a small scholarship in my hometown, in the name of my mother, that woman who silently sacrificed herself all her life.

Epilogue

The three old blankets, which seemed like worthless rags, hid not only a fortune, but an eternal lesson.
With her last act, Mom taught us to resist greed and value family ties.

Today, when winter comes, I take out one of those blankets and cover my son with it.
I want him to learn that the true value of life is not in inherited money, but in love, kindness, and unity.

Because only when we truly love each other are we worthy of calling ourselves our mother’s children.