A poor student accepted a small job: cleaning the house of an old lady who lived alone in a narrow alley near the center of Marseille
The alley was silent.
Almost forgotten by the world.
The first time he saw her, he immediately understood one thing: this job would not be a simple housekeeping job.
The old lady was ill.
Very weak.
Each step seemed to cost him an enormous amount of effort.
So the young man did not just do what he was paid to do.
He did much more.
He cooked for her.
He went to the market to buy some food.
And whenever she felt unwell, he accompanied her to the public hospital.
Weeks passed.
Then the months passed.
Throughout all this time, the old lady never gave him the money she had promised.
Not once.
Yet he continued to come.
Until the day she died.
But before we leave…
She left a letter.
A letter that would change her life forever.
My name is Julien.
I am 21 years old and I am a third-year student at a university in Marseille.
Like many students, I have to work alongside my studies to pay for rent, food, and university fees.
I take any odd jobs I can find: giving private lessons, helping out in a cafe, doing some deliveries.
One day, in a Facebook job posting group, I came across a very simple ad:
“Looking for a student to clean an elderly lady’s house once a week.”
The remuneration was 40 euros per visit.
For me, that was already a lot.
So I accepted.
The first time I went to Madame Marguerite's, I was struck by her fragility.
She was very thin, with completely white hair and trembling hands that rested on an old cane.
His house seemed frozen in the past.
A small, old house filled with objects worn by time: an old silent radio, a few faded photographs, and a wooden bed that creaked with every movement.
She explained to me that she suffered from rheumatism and hypertension.
Walking had become very difficult for her.
That's why she needed help with the housework.
The task was simple:
sweep the house,
remove the dust,
and wash some dishes.
She promised to pay me 40 euros for each visit.
I accepted without hesitation.
But as the weeks went by, I began to notice something.
His life was much more difficult than I imagined.
The refrigerator was almost always empty.
Sometimes there were only two eggs and some wilted vegetables.
Often, his meal consisted of nothing more than a simple bowl of rice.
When I asked her why she lived like that, she calmly replied:
— My children live far away… I don’t want to disturb them.
That phrase has stayed with me.
