“Jason! ” I called with a strong voice. “I should be asking you that!
” I yelled. “What is this place? Why aren’t you at school?
And why is he here? ” “I’ve been sending you money—our money—for tuition, thinking you were in college. Were you ever enrolled?
” “No. ”
“I’ve been using it to fund something…important. Uncle Tom’s been helping me.
”
“I’m building a veterinary clinic. ” “Mom, this is my calling,” Jason said, his voice steady. “You and Dad wanted me to take over the business, but that’s not who I am.
I want to help animals. ”
“You bet:ray:ed us! ” I shouted, my voice cracking.
“You’ll never see another penny from me again. ” Three months had passed and I hadn’t spoken to Jason. Then, one day, an envelope arrived via mail.
The letter read: “Dear Mrs. Reed, Thank you for believing in your son and financing his veterinary clinic. Recently, my dog was hit by a car, and your son saved her life.
If it weren’t for him—and for you—she wouldn’t be here today. ” Over the next two weeks, additional letters and emails came in. Each one shared a similar story: animals saved, families reunited, and lives transformed—all thanks to Jason.
I was unable to sleep one night and ended up searching for Jason’s Veterinary Clinic online. I grabbed my keys. On the opposite side, Jason knelt over an examination table, tenderly inspecting a scruffy dog and chatting softly to a sobbing woman.
“I know I hurt you. I know I lied, but—”
“Jason,” I interrupted, my voice breaking. “I was wrong.
”
“You’ve built something beautiful. Something that saves lives. I’m so proud of you.” Jason’s eyes glistened as he approached me.
“That means everything, Mom.” I turned back to Jason, my heart at peace.
