Dressed in tidy but worn out clothes, the old man with drooping gait entered the driveway of an old artistic house. Lush green grass and the colourful blossoms were dancing in the breeze. At one side of the grand front lawn were the tall palms, while shivering with cold, were the pines, kissing the roof of the house at the other end! It was a time of spring, the time when each flower smiled, each leaf laughed and all around was the joy. All were merry.

All but one: the owner of this house. Though aged and alone, yet he was always in a state of anger. His children had left him due to his attitude; his wife had died in an accident. No one but some old folk came to his place to share a laugh. But still he never changed his behaviour, and remained the same person who scared everyone, for he sure was fierce when it came to scolding.

He was an obese person, round face, small eyes, medium height dressed generally in old, yet expensive, but dirty clothes. He opened the front door and came down the steps. Now he started to walk around. The face was dull. Not a single mark of joy was there. He went down to the hardworking gardener and began:

"Have you moved the grass?"

"I am about to do that sir! I watered the plants first. I thought it was more important."

"Now you are to tell me what is important and what is not!"

"I am really sorry, Sir!"

"How about the furrows?"

"I shall be digging them next sir"

"You stupid aged fool! Can’t you just do anything on time?"

"I am greatly sorry sir!"

"What do you mean by sorry??? Get lost"

"But sir, I have been your loyal worker. How can you just…"

"Did you not hear: get lost. Out you go!"

"Forgive me my lord!"

"Get away and never show me your face again"

The gardener left with sorrow on his face and tear in his eye. The only thought occupying his mind right now was how to earn a living for his family. He was the only earning member in his family. At this age, nobody would hire him. How was he to fill the appetites of his five kids? How was he to provide clothing for his wife and children? With tension in head and fatigued body, he came back home.

Next morning brought a storm along. The rain was heavy and the wind was as if taking all the life with it and yet roaring for more. A typical hurricane it was, which brought with itself nothing but disaster. The cold was making the gardener shiver. And he would shiver more by thinking about the misery of his children. What was he living for at this age? Humiliation. That was just nothing. He could even die for his children. With the same thought in mind he set his tired feet on the floor again and started to walk.

He walked and walked till he finally reached the old man’s house. There was a great crowd. The street was full of men. He could hear the people say:

"Hhh…what a terrible death! Not a single relative for the funeral!"

"What else could you expect? He never wanted a family"

"Yeah, but his youngest. The lad was always the best of all"

"This is probably why he was always supporting his father though he would not enter his house."

"Yes, he was never trusted by his father like his other brothers."

"So what is going to be done about the funeral? Who is to arrange it?"

"Well, his son and friends are there to handle."

In the mighty storm the gardener returned to his family and expressed his grief over the death of his master.

"So the selfish has finally left our world", his wife said.

"You should not say something like this for him."

"Why? Because he got you off your job!"

"He had a kind heart!"

"It is hard to believe. A person who left his family had a good heart…"

"You should not comment on a person you don’t know well."

Days passed. The life of gardener became worst than ever. One bright morning a messenger came over at the gardener’s place.

"What can I do for you?"

"Well, I had to give you this confidential envelope. You are called at the advocate’s office"

"When and why?"

"Tomorrow. 1100 hrs. Reason you’ll learn from him."

"Thank you."

Next morning eleven:

"Yes, so you are Mr. Steven’s gardener?"

"Yes madam."

"Sir, Mr. Steven’s gardener is here to see you" on the phone.

"Send him in."

"You can go."

The gardener entered the office.

" Sir, you called me here?"

"Yes, I did. Sit down",

"Yes, Sir!"

"How long have you known Mr. Steven?"

"Thirty years."

"What kind of a man was he?"

"Strict but caring"

"I have to let you know about something regarding his will"

"Sir…"

"Of his wealth, he left 25% for you and your family"

"Pardon me, Sir!"

"That is around $50,000. You can collect it from the American Chartered."

Whosoever comes to this world is to leave. Good or bad is he, you cannot say for certain. The old man left the rest of his fortune to his son. He was the worst of men while he lived and became the best after he had left. Yes, he lived. He lived in the hearts of many.