rSlash - r/Prorevenge Grandma Tricks Greedy Preacher From Beyond The Grave!

Episode Date: October 9, 2020

r/Prorevenge In today's story, a pair of greedy preachers set their eyes on a sweet old lady's estate as she gets closer and closer to the end of her life. They completely ignore her for years, and show up only to demand that she puts the church to her will. After she passes and the lawyer reads the will, the grandma left a few surprises for the preachers that left them shocked and publicly humiliated! If you like this content, hit the follow button for more daily Reddit content! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Enjoy the classic taste of the holidays at Tim's with the new non-alcoholic Bailey's flavored holiday menu. Whether you're hanging holiday lights or driving up to your folks, you can enjoy your Tim's and Bailey's anytime, anywhere at participating restaurants in Canada. Welcome to R-Slash, a podcast where we read the best post from a cross-reddit. Today's subreddit is R-Slash for revenge. Our next reddit post is from BamaFanforJesus. My grandmother was a member of a large conservative Bible believing church for her entire adult life. This church, which I'll call Big White Church, was a member of a large evangelical

denomination. Big White Church was located in a prosperous suburb of a large city in the Bible belt of the deep south of the United States. Grandma was very active in big white church. She worked in the nursery every Sunday morning, helped cook hundreds of church fellowship breakfasts and dinners, accompanied her children and grandchildren on dozens of church retreats and choir tours, taught youth Bible group on Sunday night, and was very active in supporting home missions, as well as helping with other youth programs.

She always tithed and often gave extra permissions and special offerings. Grandma's greatest talent was making other people feel important. I've seen this firsthand many times. Although I belong to a different church, I often visited with grandma and when I did, I usually went to big white church functions with her. I've seen her single-handedly cook breakfast for dozens of big white church youth, a task which took over two hours, even in the church's large kitchen. Then after the meal, she asked the group for a round of applause for the high school student

leader for, doing such a great job of organizing the prayer breakfast. I remember that on a youth retreat at a rural church camp, she drove most of the night to go back to the city and retrieved a big box of evangelistic materials. That one of the assistant pastors, whom I'll call Billy, had forgotten and asked her to get in time for a morning program the next day. His boss, the senior pastor, who I'll call Bob, never found out that Billy had screwed up or that grandma had fixed it for him. Billy never even thanked grandma.

Even though I was a child, this bothered me so much that I asked her about it. She said that she didn't mind at all. She told me her reward would be that those materials would help children, behind Jesus. Grandma's service to her church ended abruptly at the age of 73 when she broke her back in a car accident. Afterwards, for the last 10 years of her life, she was homebound and couldn't go to church because of this injury and declining health due to old age. Her mind was just as sharp as ever and her faith remains sincere, but her body wore out a little more every day. During those 10 years, she made many efforts to reach

out to her church, its leadership and her church friends, inviting them to visit to her home, etc. with out success. Every one of these invitations was declined or simply ignored. Near the end, when she was in home hospice care, she decided to plan her own funeral. She and my grandpa called her church and asked for the senior pastor, Bob, whom she had known for over 30 years, to visit her so they could plan a memorial service, which she and grandpa wanted to be held at the church. Bob was too busy, but the assistant pastor Billy sat by a few days later. According to my grandpa, here's what happened at that meeting with my grandma literally

on her deathbed. Grandma grandpa and Billy discussed her funeral for a couple of minutes. Then Billy started pressuring her to lay up your treasure in heaven, by remembering your church and your will. Grandpa told him firmly that this is neither the time nor the place to discuss her will. They went back to discussing the funeral for a few minutes. Then Billy steered the conversation back to Grandma's will, with liberal injections of how badly her church needed her support.

Grandpa told him several times that it was inappropriate to talk to Grandma about her will or their church's financial needs, because she was terminally ill and in an enormous amount of physical pain. Billy would agree and briefly talk about the funeral, but would then go back to talking about the church's financial needs. Heavenly rewards? Where your treasure is, your heart will be also. My grandma started crying.

To put this into context, grandma was more than a steel magnolia. She was titanium coated with diamond wrapped in kevlar. She rarely ever cried and never ever cried about herself. Not one tear when the doctor told her that her back was broken so badly that she would never walk again, nor during the following six months in futile rehab.

She would shed sincere but well-managed tears at funerals and while visiting family members in the hospitals when they were covered bad news, she would cry to console others. Weep with those who weep. But nobody, not grandpa, not her daughter, my mom, nor any of my uncles or grandma siblings ever remembered her crying for herself. But here, my grandma was sobbing uncontrollably. Grandpa, a retired steel worker, former marine sergeant and Korean work combat veteran physically grabbed Billy and escorted him out of their house, not too gently. Contrary to everyone's expectations, grandma lived another six months,

mostly because of sheer force of will. Eventually, though, grandma passed away, and we held a memorial service at the funeral home, not big white church. Billy and Bob were conspicuously absent. In fact, there were no professional questions from big white church at the service at all, not even in the audience. To start the service, grandpa stood up at the podium in front of the crowd and said, Some of you may have heard that I disinvited Billy and Bob from the funeral service. This service is not an appropriate place for me to give you my reasons for doing this, although you all know me and so you know that my reasons are good ones. Also, my wife asked me to exclude them. This funeral service may be different from other

funerals that you've attended. It's going to be an open microphone funeral. Anyone who wants to say something is invited to come up here and describe your friendship with my wife, tell a story about her that's worth remembering, or anything else that you want to say that will honor her memory and bring comfort to everyone here today. I've asked several family members to prepare statements, but you don't have to have anything prepared. Please, if you want to say something, come up here and do so. There were about 100 people

at the funeral service, and at least a third of them eventually stepped up to the microphone. The service, which we had planned to last about 30 minutes, lasted for over two hours, and as best as I can tell, not one person left early. There was laughing, crying, and hugging, three of her grandchildren played some of her favorite songs, crying, and hugging. Three of her grandchildren played some of her favorite songs in the piano and guitar. We all joined hands and sang her favorite hymns. Afterwards, dozens of people told my grandpa that it was one of the most comforting and uplifting funerals they had ever attended. More than a few remark that funerals are better without preachers anyway, or something similar. A couple of weeks

later, it was time to start distributing the bequest of grandma's will. Although grandma and grandpa daily loved each other, they had separate wills because she told my mom. That makes it easier for us to respect each other's turf. And because their lawyer had recommended it. Nobody thought that my grandparents were wealthy. They had lived in the same small but charming house in a prosperous well-maintained suburban neighborhood for the past 50 years, and had worked hard and lived modestly. But it was rumored that they had a very nice nest egg. As an added incentive to attend the reading of the will, the family rumor mill had been buzzing with speculation, encouraged by grandpa that grandma's will contain some surprises. The reading was held in a conference room at a lawyer's office. Unsurprisingly, the attendees included my mom as well as aunt's uncles, great aunts, great

uncles, and many of the grandchildren. We were all surprised, however, to see Billy and Bob from Big White Church. They informed us that grandma's lawyer had told them that grandma's will had bequest not only for Big White Church church but also for them personally. Maybe it was just our imagination, but my siblings, cousins and I couldn't help noticing that these preachers appeared to be actively salivating over their good fortune at grandma's generosity. Grandma had a large family, so a sizeable number of beneficiaries were named in her will.

The lawyer's conference room was a bit smaller than an average middle class living room. Extra chairs have been brought in, every seat was filled, and people were standing in every remaining space. There was barely space for all of us. Grandma's lawyers suggested that Billy and Bob sit in chairs which were in the front of the room next to himself. Since there was a large table in the room, this meant the lawyer and these two preachers were the only ones who were directly facing everyone else.

Although the preachers were gratified to be physically next to the center of attention, they did not notice, as the rest of us quickly noticed, that these seats made it easy for everyone else in the room to watch them closely, and practically impossible for them to leave the pack to more than overflowing room before the entire meeting was over, because they were farthest from the room single door, and there were almost two dozen people standing or sitting between them and their only path to escape. Childhood vaccines have been around for decades,

and are safe and proven to help protect children against 14 preventable diseases. Learn more at Canada.ca slash childhood vaccines, a message from the government of Canada. Hi, I'm Pete Davidson, and if you're like most people, you may be asking yourself, whoa, hey Pete, are you here to up my hydration game? And I'd be like, hey you, that's exactly right, with new smart water alkaline with antioxidant. And you'd be like, okay cool, but there's no way there's a higher pH, right? And I'd be like, there actually is!

And you'd be like, that's rad. I hope there's electrolytes for taste too. And I'd be like, you're not gonna believe this! Elevate how you hydrate. And keep it smart with smart water alkaline. The bequest were quite generous, but pretty much what we expected. Grandpa kept their house, its contents, their retirement accounts, and everything they remained after all the other requests had been satisfied.

Children, grandchildren, and several local charities received nice, but not extravagant amounts of money. Several sentimental items were named and given to various friends and relatives. Grandpa was the first beneficiary listed in the will, but after him, all the other requests were arranged in order of increasing worth. They started with sentimental items, which had very small cash value. Then each grandchild received several thousand dollars, then each son, daughter, brother, sister, niece, and nephew received a little more. Then several local nonprofits received very nice amounts, etc. The request to Big White Church, Billy and Bob were

almost the last ones listed in the will. They listened politely to the other bequests, but was steadily growing anticipation as they noticed the exponential upward training grandma's largest. When grandma's lawyer got to the big white church and the preacher's part of the will, he said, This is a bit unusual, but before I announce his bequest to Big White Church, Billy and Bob, Mrs. Grandma requested that I read the following statement to everyone present.

He opened a letter that was written in Grandma's own handwriting. For the past 10 years, not one person from Big White Church has ever called me. Come to visit me or send me a note to tell me that they cared about me. Not one minister, not one deacon, not one of the church women, not one of the church members who I worked with for all those years, loved dearly, and thought were my friends. I worked very hard for you when you needed me for many, many years, but when I needed you in your church, you all pretended that I didn't exist. I only got one visit. When I was dying, I invited Bob to come to my house and help me play in my funeral.

This was my last attempt after many attempts that I had made over the past 10 years to reach out to my church and pastor, whom I still loved dearly, even though they made it clear that they didn't love me. If only I could have my funeral at my church, maybe some of my church friends whom I hadn't seen in a decade would come to the service and see me one last time. And I know they love to hear Bob preach, so if he preached to my funeral, maybe they would come to my funeral to hear him, even if they wouldn't have come to see me. But Bob couldn't find the time to visit me, or even call me to tell me whether or not

he was willing to preach at my funeral. Billy came by my house, but he didn was willing to preach at my funeral. Billy came by my house, but he didn't want to talk about my funeral. He just wanted me to remember his church and my will. That's all. Just remember his church and my will. It was then that I realized that I had allowed my church to break my heart for one last time. But that was the last time. The very last time. Billy didn't know this when he had visited me, but Grandpa and I had already prepared my will long before his visit, which did include a double tithe. 20% of my entire estate.

For what was now my former, former church? OP doesn't say how much the money was, but he does call it an enormous boatload of money, generating muffled wows from many of her heirs, including me. Her letter continues, but I got to feeling badly that we hadn't personally remembered such nice people as Billy and Bob, so I changed my will to include them by name. While I was at it, I changed the amount of money that I left to big white church to match all the love they had shown me during the last 10 years of my life when I was suffering and lonely and no longer able to work my

butt off for them for free. Like I had done for almost half a century. The lawyer said, that's her entire written statement. Now let's get back to the bequest in the will. Bequest to Billy, one cent. Bequestester Bob, one cent. Bequester Big White Church, one cent. Billy and Bob sat there looking like someone had injected a gallon of novocaine into their jaws. Every one of Grandma's friends and family felt an overwhelming urge to laugh out loud, but we kept quiet because we knew Grandma. We knew she wasn't finished yet. Grandma was simply setting them up for a one-two punch. The best was yet to come, and we didn't want to miss it. There is one last

request, a lawyer continued. For a charity called Black Charity, then he paused before naming the amount. Most of us had no idea what Black Charity was, but by the looks on their faces, we could tell that Billy and Bob knew Black Charity very well. Their faces displayed the looks on their faces, we could tell that Billy and Bob knew Black Charity very well. Their faces displayed the same expressions of shock, dread, and horror that they would have had at the lawyer had said. This bequest goes to the demonic baby eaters to buy extra large rotisserie barbecue grills and tons of charcoal. Every eye in the room was now fixated on Billy and Bob. The lawyer, who happened to be my uncle, won a grandma and grandpa's sons,

let the silence continue a few seconds more. If we had been able to read Billy and Bob's minds, we would have known the history behind those looks on their faces. Black charity was sponsored by a large black church just a few miles from big white church. They ran a free food and clothing bank, assistance programs for foster children, home delivery or pre-cooked meals for homebound seniors, legal aid and other social services.

A long time ago, Big White Church, which was and still is 100% Caucasian, had provided a few years of financial and other support to Black Charity. There was a very bitter, acrimonious breakup, allegedly because Black Charity was practicing the social gospel. While Big black charity was practicing the social gospel. While big white church was preaching the true gospel, big white church even sued to try to get some of their money back, although the suit was eventually settled and very little money actually changed hands.

But this being the deep south, everyone knew the real reason why big white church, or any white church would stop supporting a black charity. Those inwards were getting up and not staying in their place. Grandma and Grandpa had seriously considered leaving big white church at that time, but they reason that it was better to stay there and teach tolerance by their words an example. They knew they would never persuade everyone, but maybe they could reach some of the youth of their white church and break the generational cycle of racism. Grandma used to tell us, my church is my mission field. We didn't learn the true depth of her statement until after she died.

Since then, grandma and grandpa had secretly sent a portion of their tie to black charity every month. Most of grandma's family, including me, didn't find out about any of this until after the meeting had ended. To many white southerners, this was one of the most personally insulting things you could do to them. It simultaneously labeled them as racists, condemn their bigotry, and crush their delusions of white superiority by saying, these black human beings, whom you hate, disrespect and have mistreated, are better people than you are. So they deserve are better people than you are.

So they deserve my money more than you do. Having allowed time for everyone to observe Billy and Bob while they thought about how their white church had mistreated this black charity, and how they, and their church had treated our grandma, the lawyer said. The amount is… then he named the exact amount that grandma had named in her handwritten letter. The huge amount of money that would have gone to Big White Church if she hadn't changed her will. That was our slash per-revenge, and if you like this podcast, then be sure to follow me because I put a new Reddit podcast episodes every single day.