My husband and I always dreamed our son Jason to take over the family business, so we insisted he majored business marketing at a prestigious university. Paying thousands of dollars for college tuition wasn’t something we couldn’t afford, as long as he was getting ready for the life of a CEO of the company my husband founded.

Jason has always been the most charming young man. He got all straight A’s and was the captain of the school’s basketball team. The parents of the rest of the kids would often say to them, “Be more like Jason.” He has always been our pride and joy.

What’s most, he has been the biggest animal lover.
If there was a stray cat wandering in our yard, he would be the one sneaking it milk.

Often, he would say he didn’t want to run the business; instead, he wanted to be more like my brother, Tom—a veterinarian and world traveler who never settled anywhere.

When the time came Jason to enroll college, we persuaded him to study marketing, and although a bit unwillingly, he agreed.

My husband and I spent a lot on Jason’s college tuition and living expenses. Given the young man he was, we never doubted his progress when he shared how his exams went.

One day, nearly two years after he enrolled university, I was doing business in the town where he studies so I decided to surprise him.

I went to the university and asked for his dorm, but the woman at the admission office told me there was no Jason Reed studying there. I asked her to check again, but the answer was the same.

“Madam, are you certain this is the right university?” she asked, and I just thanked her and left.

Confused, and with the woman’s words echoing in my head, I called my son and asked him where he was. “Hey, mom, I’m near campus, let’s meet for coffee nearby,” he said. His voice was calm, which confused me even further.

When we met, I asked him about his studies, and he spoke of his midterm exams and how he studies day and night. I knew something was wrong, and I needed to know what it was.

So, when I was about to leave, I slipped my fitness bracelet into his jacket pocket.

Some time later, I tracked the bracelet through GPS and it led me to the woods, away from the campus. There, hidden among the trees was a trailer, so old it seemed like it could crumble at any moment.

I spotted Jason and called his name as loud as I could.

“Mom, what are you doing here?” he asked. “No, Jason, what are YOU doing here?”

Just as he was about to answer, my brother Tom opened the trailer’s door.

“Hey, sis,” he said with a huge grin on his face.

I was totally confused. “What are you two up to?” I asked. “Jason, are you even enrolled at university?” I demanded to know.

Looking at the ground, he said, “No.”

“But what’s with the college tuition, we’ve been sending you money for two years.”
That’s when Jason told me that he had been investing all the money, including what we thought was meant for his college tuition, into a vet clinic.

“Uncle Tom is going to be the head of the clinic,” he said.

I was so mad that I could say a word. I just got in my car and drove away.

My husband and I decided not to send any more money to Jason, who betrayed our trust.

Months passed, and although I wanted to know how my son was doing, I was too mad at him to contact him.

But then, one day, I decided to check his clinic out on the web. After some research, I found it. There were photos of the place and photos of Jason posing next to families and their pets. On each of the photos, he was smiling and seemed genuinely happy.

I showed the photos to my husband, and I told him that maybe we were wrong for forcing Jason to do something he didn’t like. Maybe we were wrong for not supporting his dream of having that clinic.

So, we paid him a visit. Both him and Tom were surprised to see us there. We weren’t mad any longer. We were proud of Jason’s achievement.

“Mom, dad, you are the ones who helped build this clinic. It was the college tuition money that went into this building.”

I cried tears of joy. “Oh, Jason, don’t ever stop being this person,” I said and hugged my son.

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