The telephone rang precisely at midnight, shattering the silence of Richard Thompson’s high-tech office. He sat surrounded by glowing monitors, each one tracking his vast empire as it generated millions by the second. Richard owned everything from luxury hotels and towering skyscrapers to entire private islands, earning him the title of the city’s wealthiest man. Whenever he entered a room, people immediately stood at attention out of sheer respect.
When he spoke, every single person listened intently to his every word. But that night, none of his immense power or influence mattered at all. “Sir, you must come home quickly!” his assistant screamed frantically through the phone line.
“It’s Marcus! He just collapsed.” Richard’s heart felt like it stopped beating entirely in his chest. Marcus was his only son, his entire world, and everything else suddenly faded away into unimportance.
He ran out of the building faster than he had ever run before in his life. His sleek black car tore through the city streets, ignoring every red traffic light in its desperate race. When he finally reached his massive mansion, which resembled a literal castle, medical teams had already arrived.
These were expensive doctors, undoubtedly the very best specialists in the entire world. Richard had flown them in on his private jets within mere minutes of the incident. However, the grave looks on their faces immediately told him something horrible was happening.
Inside Marcus’s lavish bedroom, medical machines beeped loudly and incessantly. Numerous wires connected the complex equipment to his son’s surprisingly small, fragile body. Marcus lay completely still on the immense bed, his skin as pale as a sheet of paper and his lips turning a frightening shade of blue.
He was only twelve years old, far too young for this to be happening. “What is wrong with him?” Richard demanded, grabbing the lead doctor aggressively by his white coat. “Fix him right now, and I don’t care what it costs me.”
The team of doctors looked at each other with obvious nervousness. Finally, one of them spoke up, his voice shaking slightly with fear. “Mr. Thompson, your son has contracted a very rare sickness that we have never encountered before.
His body is effectively shutting down right in front of us.” “Then do something about it!” Richard shouted, his usual composure completely gone.
“Give him some medicine or perform surgery immediately, as I will pay absolutely anything.” The doctor swallowed hard before delivering the devastating news. “Sir, there is simply no cure available for this condition yet…
We have already run every conceivable test and called specialists from five different countries.” He paused for a moment, seemingly unable to say the final crushing words. “But what?” Richard’s commanding voice finally cracked with pure terror.
“Your son has only three days left to live.” The luxurious room went completely silent, save for the relentless beeping of the life-support machines. Richard felt his legs give out from under him, and he collapsed to his knees beside Marcus’s bed.
He grabbed his son’s cold hand and whispered, “No, no, no, this can’t be happening.” For the very first time in his incredibly powerful life, Richard Thompson felt completely and utterly helpless. He might own half the city and be able to buy anything on earth, but he couldn’t buy more time…
Marcus’s eyes slowly opened, looking incredibly heavy and weary. They were tired, so very deeply tired. “Dad,” he whispered weakly, barely able to form the words.
“Am I dying?” Richard couldn’t find his voice to speak to his son. Tears began to fall down his face, tears he had never cried before, not even when he lost his own parents years ago.
“I don’t want to die, Dad,” Marcus said, his voice barely audible in the quiet room. “I’m scared.” “You won’t die,” Richard lied desperately, holding his son’s hand tighter as if to anchor him to the world.
“I won’t let you, I promise.” But promises mean absolutely nothing when death is already on its way. That night, the mansion that was usually filled with music and laughter became as silent as a grave.
Servants walked around the halls quietly crying while Richard’s assistants cancelled every single one of his upcoming meetings. News reporters gathered outside the tall iron gates, their cameras flashing as they broadcast the tragedy to the entire world. “Billionaire’s son given three days to live,” the brutal headlines read the next morning.
Inside, Richard sat frozen beside Marcus’s bed, watching his son struggle to breathe. Each breath seemed significantly harder than the last one. The antique clock on the wall ticked loudly, mercilessly counting down the remaining hours.
Tick, tock, tick, tock; every second felt like pure torture to the grieving father. Richard looked around at all his incredibly expensive possessions, from the golden paintings to the crystal chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling. He saw rare furniture imported from far-away countries and wondered what good any of it was now.
He would gladly burn it all, every last priceless piece, if it could save Marcus. But all his vast money couldn’t save his only son. For the first time, Richard truly understood that wealth is completely useless against death.
Far away from the mansion, in a totally different world, someone else was about to hear Marcus’s tragic story. His name was Leo, and he certainly didn’t live in a mansion. In fact, Leo didn’t even live in a proper house at all.
He slept under a dusty bridge, wrapped tightly in an old blanket he had found in the trash. He was just eleven years old, skinny as a stick, with messy brown hair and clothes full of holes. Leo had no parents, no family, and no real home to call his own…
Every single morning, he woke up feeling hungry. He earned a little money by selling flowers at traffic lights, carrying heavy bags for strangers, or cleaning dirty car windows. On good days, he made just enough to buy one small meal.
On bad days, he went to sleep with his empty stomach growling loudly. But here’s the strange thing about Leo: he never stopped smiling. Even when bigger kids stole his hard-earned money, he still smiled.
Even when rude people yelled at him to get completely out of their way, he smiled. Even when the rain poured down and he had absolutely nowhere dry to go, he kept smiling. This was because Leo had a very special secret.
He genuinely believed in magic, but not the kind with fairy tale wands and spells. He believed in the kind where good things happen to good people and where kindness matters more than money. He believed that impossible things can become possible if you just believe hard enough.
Other street kids frequently laughed at his optimism. “You’re stupid, Leo,” they would say to him. “There’s no such thing as magic, because life is just hard.”
But Leo didn’t listen to their negativity. He spent his free time reading torn books he found discarded in garbage cans. These were books about heroes, miracles, and ordinary people doing extraordinary things.
One evening, Leo sat at a small tea shop located on the corner of a busy street. The owner, an old woman with kind eyes named Grandma Rosa, sometimes gave him free tea in a cracked cup. “Here you go, child,” she said gently, placing the warm cup into his dirty hands.
“Thank you, Grandma Rosa,” Leo smiled warmly at her. That’s what he always called her, and she liked it very much. As Leo sipped his tea, two men sat at the table next to him and began talking loudly.
“Did you hear about the billionaire’s son?” one man asked his companion. “Oh, yes, it is absolutely tragic,” the other replied, shaking his head. “The boy is dying and only has three days left to live.”
“Even with all that money, his father can’t save him now.” Leo’s cup froze halfway to his lips as he processed their words. Dying, a boy, in just three days?
“How old is he?” Leo asked them suddenly, interrupting their conversation. The men looked at him, clearly surprised that a street kid was talking to them.
“Twelve, I think,” one man said dismissively. “Why do you care anyway?” Leo didn’t answer them as his mind was already spinning.
Somewhere in a huge mansion, a boy his own age was lying in bed waiting to die. This was a boy who probably had everything: toys, games, food, and a warm bed. But none of those things could save him now.
Leo felt something strange in his chest, a definite pull. It felt like an invisible string connecting him to this boy he’d never even met. “If only I could help,” Leo whispered softly to himself.
Grandma Rosa heard him and put her wrinkled hand gently on his shoulder. “Child, you have the biggest heart I’ve ever seen,” she told him. “But some things are simply beyond us.”
Leo looked up at her with deeply serious eyes. “Grandma Rosa, do you believe in miracles?” She smiled sadly and replied, “I used to, back when I was young like you.”..
“Well, I still do,” Leo said firmly as he stood up, leaving his half-finished tea behind. “And I think that boy needs one right now.” “Where are you going?” Grandma Rosa called after him in concern.
But Leo was already running down the street, his bare feet slapping hard against the wet pavement. He didn’t know how he would do it, and he didn’t know why he felt this way. But something inside him, something powerful and sure, told him he had to find Marcus Thompson.
He felt that somehow, a poor street kid with nothing could save a rich boy who had everything. The impossible was about to become possible. And Leo was totally ready to fight for it.
The next morning, Leo stood outside the biggest hospital in the entire city. It was tall and white, with huge glass windows that reflected the sun like sparkling diamonds. Rich people always went there when they were sick, people just like Marcus Thompson.
Security guards in sharp black suits stood at every single entrance. Their faces were serious, and their arms were crossed tightly over their chests. They looked like formidable soldiers protecting an impenetrable castle.
Leo took a deep breath, knowing they would never willingly let a dirty street kid inside. But Leo was clever and had spent his whole life being invisible, sneaking into places he wasn’t supposed to be. He watched carefully and waited for the perfect moment.
When a delivery truck arrived with food supplies, Leo quickly slipped behind it. When the guards turned to check the truck’s papers, Leo ducked low and ran straight through the automatic doors. Inside, the hospital felt like completely another world.
Everything was incredibly clean and stark white. The floors were so shiny that Leo could clearly see his own reflection in them. Nurses walked quickly in their crisp uniforms, and the sharp smell of medicine filled the air.
Leo felt out of place with his torn clothes and bare, dirty feet. But he kept walking and asked a cleaning lady, “Excuse me, where is Marcus Thompson’s room?” The lady looked at him suspiciously before answering, “Top floor, but you can’t just go up there.”
Leo was already running to the stairs before she finished her sentence. He couldn’t use the elevator because too many people would see him there. He climbed five long flights of stairs, his legs burning with effort, until he finally reached the top floor.
And there it was: Room 507. Two more stern guards stood right outside the door. Leo’s heart pounded in his chest as he wondered how he would get past them.
Then he noticed a food cart sitting unattended in the hallway. Without thinking twice, he grabbed a white coat hanging nearby and quickly put it on. It was huge on him, hanging all the way past his knees.
He pushed the food cart toward Marcus’s room, keeping his head down low. “Breakfast delivery,” Leo mumbled softly to the formidable guards. They barely looked at him as they opened the heavy door for him. Just like that, Leo was inside the forbidden room.
The room was enormous, and complex machines surrounded a huge bed in the center. And there, looking tiny in the middle of all those white sheets, was Marcus. He looked even worse than Leo had imagined he would.
His skin was gray, and dark circles deeply surrounded his tired eyes. Tubes ran from his thin arms to bags filled with clear liquid. The machine beside him beat steadily, mechanically counting every one of his heartbeats…
Leo stood completely frozen in the doorway until Marcus’s eyes opened slowly. They were green, like fresh leaves in spring, but looked so incredibly tired. He looked at Leo, confused, and whispered, “Who are you?”
Leo swallowed hard and said, “I’m Leo, and I came here to help you.” Marcus tried to laugh at this, but it just came out as a weak, dry cough. “Help me?” he asked skeptically.
“The best doctors in the world can’t help me, so how can you?” Leo walked closer, and up close, he could see Marcus was just like him—just a scared kid. “I don’t know yet,” Leo admitted honestly to him.
“But I couldn’t just sit back and do absolutely nothing.” For a moment, they just stared at each other in silence. They were two boys from completely different worlds, yet both were feeling the exact same thing.
“What’s it like living on the streets?” Marcus asked suddenly. Leo blinked in surprise and asked, “What?” “I can tell from your clothes,” Marcus said, “You don’t have a home, do you?”
Leo shook his head and said, “No, but it’s not all bad because I get to see the sunrise every morning.” “I have freedom, and I meet interesting people every day,” he added. “I’ve never seen a real sunrise,” Marcus said sadly.
“I’ve always been too busy with tutors, lessons, and business meetings Dad makes me sit in.” “I have everything, but I’ve never really lived,” Marcus concluded. “And I have nothing,” Leo said softly, “but I live every day like it’s an adventure.”
They both smiled at the irony of their situations before Marcus’s smile faded away. “I’m going to die, Leo, in three days or maybe less.” “No, you’re not,” Leo said firmly.
“How do you know?” Marcus asked him. “Because I won’t let you,” Leo replied, grabbing Marcus’s cold, weak hand and holding it tight. “I promise you, Marcus, I’m going to find a way to save you.”
Marcus’s eyes filled with tears as he whispered, “That’s impossible.” “I believe in impossible things,” Leo said with that bright, characteristic smile of his. “And starting today, you’re going to believe too.”
For the first time in days, Marcus felt something he thought he’d lost forever: hope. But then the door burst open, and Richard Thompson stormed in, followed closely by two guards. “Who are you?” Richard demanded, staring at the strange boy in the oversized coat.
“How did you get in here?” Leo stood up straight, even though his knees were shaking with fear. “My name is Leo, sir, and I came to help your son.”
“Help him?” Richard’s voice was sharp as he asked, “Are you a doctor?” “No, sir,” Leo replied quietly…
“Are you a scientist or a specialist?” Richard pressed. “No, sir, I’m just me,” Leo answered simply. Richard’s face turned red with anger as he shouted, “Guards, remove this child immediately!”
“Wait!” Marcus cried out from his bed. “Dad, please, he’s my friend.” “Friend?” Richard looked completely shocked by this statement.
“You just met him,” Richard pointed out. “I know,” Marcus said, his voice getting noticeably stronger. “But he is the first person who didn’t look at me like I’m already dead.”
“Please, let him stay,” Marcus begged. Richard looked at his son, then back at Leo, and finally sighed in defeat. “Fine, but don’t give my son false hope because hope can hurt worse than truth.”
Leo met Richard’s eyes steadily. “What if hope is actually a truth, sir?” Richard didn’t answer the question. He just turned around and left the room silently.
That night, Leo snuck out of the hospital because he couldn’t stay. The guards were watching too closely now. But he’d made a promise to Marcus, and Leo always kept his promises.
He walked through the dark streets, thinking hard about where he could find a cure that doctors couldn’t. How could he possibly save Marcus? Then he remembered a story Grandma Rosa had told him once about old healers who lived far from the city.
These healers used plants and herbs instead of pills and complex machines. They knew secrets that modern doctors had long forgotten. “That’s it,” Leo whispered to himself in realization.
The next morning, before the sun even came up, Leo left the city. He had absolutely no money for a bus or train, so he just walked. He walked along dusty roads and through small villages, asking everyone he met for help.
“Do you know any healers?” he would ask them. Most people just shook their heads, and some even laughed at him. “Healers are just old superstition, boy, so go to a hospital,” they said.
But Leo kept asking and kept walking despite the pain in his feet. His stomach was empty, but he couldn’t stop now. After two full days of walking, he finally reached a tiny village at the edge of a dark forest.
The people there were different; they wore simple clothes and lived in small houses. An old man sitting outside a tea shop noticed Leo and said, “You look lost, child.” “I’m looking for a healer,” Leo said breathlessly.
“I need someone who knows about rare sicknesses and can do what doctors can’t.” The old man’s eyes grew serious as he replied, “There is one, deep in the forest, whom they call the Keeper.” “But the journey is dangerous, and he doesn’t help just anyone.”
“Please,” Leo begged him, “my friend is dying and I have one day left to save him.” The old man studied Leo’s face carefully. He saw something there, something pure and true in the boy’s expression…
“Follow the river into the forest and walk until you hear the waterfall. The Keeper’s house is there. But be warned, he will test your heart.”
Leo didn’t waste a single second and ran straight toward the forest. The trees were so thick that sunlight barely reached the ground below. Strange sounds echoed around him, from birds and insects to animals he couldn’t name.
The river beside him rushed loudly, guiding him deeper and deeper into the woods. His legs screamed with pain, branches scratched his arms and face, and he tripped over roots, falling into mud. But every time he fell, he got right back up.
“For Marcus,” he whispered to himself, “for Marcus.” Finally, after hours of walking, he heard the sound of a waterfall crashing down onto rocks. And there, hidden behind the falling water, was a tiny house made of wood and stone.
Leo climbed over slippery rocks and knocked on the door, which opened slowly. An old man stood there, but he wasn’t like any old man Leo had ever seen before. His eyes were sharp and bright, looking like he could see right into Leo’s soul.
His long white beard touched his chest, and strange plants hung from the ceiling behind him. The air smelled like earth and flowers. “Why have you come, boy?” the Keeper asked in a deep, powerful voice.
Leo fell to his knees, completely exhausted. “Please, sir, my friend is dying and he has one day left. The doctors gave up, but I can’t and I won’t.”
“Please, if you know anything, any cure at all, please help me.” The Keeper stared at him for a long, long time before asking, “This friend of yours, is he rich?” “Very,” Leo said honestly.
“And you are poor,” the Keeper stated, to which Leo said, “Very,” again. “So why do you care and what will you gain by saving him?” Leo looked up, completely confused by the question.
“Gain? Nothing,” Leo said. “I just can’t watch him die when maybe, just maybe, I can do something.”
The Keeper’s face softened as he disappeared into his house and returned holding a small leather pouch. Inside were dried leaves that glowed faintly, like they held tiny pieces of moonlight. “This plant is called silver breath,” the Keeper explained.
“It blooms once every ten years in the deepest part of this forest and can cure almost anything. But,” he paused significantly, “it only works if given with a pure heart. If your intentions are selfish, it becomes poison.”..
Leo took the pouch carefully and said, “My heart is pure, I promise.” “Then go, boy, run, because your friend has very little time left.” Leo didn’t say thank you because there was no time.
He turned and ran back through the forest faster than he’d ever run before. The sun was setting, meaning Marcus had one day left, maybe less. Leo’s body screamed for rest, but his heart pushed him forward.
He ran through the night, past the villages, and back toward the city. The lights of the city appeared in the distance just as the sun began to rise. Leo ran harder because Marcus was waiting for him.
Leo’s feet were bleeding and his lungs burned, but he could see the hospital now, just three blocks away. He pushed through the morning crowd, ignoring the stares at his muddy clothes and scratched face. People jumped out of his way as he sprinted past them.
“Move, please move!” he shouted as he ran. When he reached the hospital, the guards recognized him immediately. “Hey, you’re not allowed in here!” they yelled.
But Leo was too fast, ducking under their arms and running straight for the stairs. Behind him, he heard shouting and heavy footsteps chasing him. He burst through the door of Room 507, and his heart almost stopped.
Marcus wasn’t moving, and doctors surrounded his bed, working frantically. Machines beeped wildly while Richard stood in the corner with his face buried in his hands, sobbing. “No, no, no!” Leo screamed.
“I’m here, I found it!” Everyone turned to stare at him, and a doctor tried to grab him. “Security, get this child out of here right now!”
“Wait!” Leo yelled, holding up the leather pouch. “Please, this can save him!” “That’s enough,” Richard said, his voice broken with grief.
“Don’t torture me with false hope.” “My son is… not dead yet!” Leo shouted with everything he had left.
“Please, Mr. Thompson, just let me try because what do you have to lose?” Richard looked at Marcus’s still body, then at Leo’s desperate face, and finally at the glowing pouch. “Everyone out,” Richard said quietly but firmly…
“Sir, this is highly irregular,” a doctor protested. “I said out, all of you, now!” Richard roared. The doctors exchanged worried glances but left the room.
Only Richard, Leo, and Marcus remained in the quiet room. Leo rushed to Marcus’s bedside, seeing his friend’s lips were blue and his chest barely moving. With shaking hands, Leo opened the pouch, and the silver breath leaves smelled like rain and honey.
He crushed them in a cup of water and stirred. “Marcus,” Leo whispered, tears streaming down his face, “remember our promise? You have to fight, please fight.”
He carefully lifted Marcus’s head and poured the glowing liquid between his lips. One drop, two drops, then three. Nothing happened immediately, and the room was silent except for the terrible beeping machines.
Leo held Marcus’s hand and said, “Come on, friend, come back. The sunrise is waiting for you, real beautiful ones. I’ll show you everything if you just come back.”
Still nothing happened, and Richard collapsed into a chair, covering his face. Then, suddenly, Marcus coughed. It was tiny and weak, but it was definitely there.
Leo’s eyes went wide as he whispered, “Marcus?” Marcus coughed again, stronger this time, and his chest moved up and down. Color slowly returned to his cheeks, starting from his nose and spreading outward like spilled paint.
“It’s working,” Leo breathed in disbelief, “it’s working.” Richard jumped up, calling, “Marcus, son, can you hear me?” Marcus’s eyelids fluttered slowly, so very slowly.
They opened, and those green eyes looked around, confused but alive. “Dad?” Marcus’s voice was scratchy but real. “Leo, what happened?”
Leo started laughing and crying at the same time as he hugged Marcus tightly. “You’re okay, you’re really okay!” Richard fell to his knees beside the bed, grabbing his son’s hand…
“The doctors said you were gone, but you’re here, you’re alive!” The doctors rushed back in, completely shocked by the noise. They checked Marcus’s vitals, ran tests, and examined him from every angle.
Their faces showed complete disbelief at the results. “This is impossible,” one doctor whispered. “His pulse is normal, his breathing is clear, and there’s no trace of the illness left.”
“It appears to be completely gone,” another doctor confirmed. The room erupted in joy as nurses hugged each other. Richard held Marcus and sobbed with pure relief.
Leo sat on the floor, utterly exhausted but smiling his biggest smile yet. The miracle had actually happened. For the next two days, Marcus grew stronger, first sitting up, then walking, and finally laughing.
News spread across the world: “Billionaire’s son makes impossible recovery” and “Miracle cure saves dying child.” But inside the mansion where Marcus was now resting, trouble was brewing. Late one night, while everyone slept, three men in expensive suits gathered in a dark office building across the city.
“The boy survived,” one man named Victor Kane said angrily; he was Richard’s biggest business rival. “If Marcus lives, Richard’s empire stays strong and our plan to take over his companies is ruined.” “What about that street kid?” another man asked.
“He’s the one who brought the cure,” the man continued. Victor’s eyes narrowed as he said, “Then we make the street kid disappear. If Marcus gets sick again and the cure is gone, nature will take its course.”
They didn’t know that one of Richard’s loyal servants had overheard them. The servant ran straight to the mansion to warn Richard immediately. The next morning, Richard called Leo into his study, where Marcus was already waiting and looking healthier.
“Leo,” Richard said seriously, “I’ve learned that some very dangerous people want to hurt you. They see you as a threat to their plans.” Leo’s eyes widened as he asked, “Hurt me? But I just wanted to help.”
“I know, son,” Richard said, putting his hand on Leo’s shoulder. “That’s why I want you to stay here, in this mansion, where you’ll be safe and protected. You’ll be family, my family.”
Leo looked at Marcus, who was grinning, and said, “Please stay, Leo, because you’re my best friend and brother.” But before Leo could answer, the lights went out and glass shattered somewhere downstairs. Men shouted, and heavy footsteps pounded up the stairs.
“They’re here!” Richard yelled. “Guards!” The door burst open, and five men in black masks rushed in…
But Richard’s security team was ready and fought hard, pushing the attackers back. In the chaos, one masked man grabbed Leo and snarled, “You’re coming with us, street rat.” “No!” Marcus screamed.
But then something amazing happened as all the servants, cooks, gardeners, and maids rushed in with brooms and pans. Grandma Rosa from the tea shop was there too, having heard about the danger and bringing half the neighborhood with her. “You don’t hurt our Leo!” she shouted, swinging her walking stick.
The attackers were quickly overwhelmed by the crowd. Within minutes, they were tied up, and police sirens wailed outside. As officers took the criminals away, Victor Kane was among them, his face twisted with anger.
“You can’t win, Thompson,” Victor shouted, “because money always wins!” Richard looked at Leo, then at all the ordinary people who had come to protect him, and smiled. “You’re wrong, Victor; love wins every single time.”
One week later, Marcus stood on the mansion’s balcony, watching his first real sunrise with Leo beside him. The sky turned from dark purple to pink, then to orange and gold. Birds sang, and the world felt brand new.
“It’s beautiful,” Marcus whispered. “Told you,” Leo grinned. Behind him, Richard watched his son, who was alive, laughing, and learning what really mattered in life.
He’d already made changes, deciding half his fortune would go to building schools and hospitals for poor children. He’d also hired Grandma Rosa to run a new community center. And Leo was officially his son now: adopted, loved, and finally home…
“You know what the craziest part is?” Marcus said to Leo. “You had nothing and I had everything, but you saved me.” Leo shrugged and said, “That’s because the best things in life don’t cost money.”
“Courage doesn’t cost money, kindness doesn’t cost money, and hope doesn’t cost money.” He looked at Richard and Marcus and added, “And love is completely free.” Richard came over and put his arms around both boys.
“I spent my whole life thinking money was power, but you taught me something, Leo. Real power is in here,” he said, touching his heart. “And that’s a treasure everyone can have, rich or poor.”
Marcus smiled and asked, “So what do we do now?” Leo’s eyes sparkled with that old mischief as he said, “Now, we go help other people. We share what we learned and show the world that miracles are real when people care about each other.”..
And that’s exactly what they did. The lesson is that money can buy many things, but it cannot buy the things that truly matter: love, loyalty, friendship, and life itself. Real miracles don’t come from wealth; they come from pure hearts and courage.
You don’t need to be rich to change someone’s life, nor do you need to be powerful to be a hero. You just need to care and you just need to try. In the end, the greatest treasure isn’t gold or mansions, but compassion, kindness, and love.
And those gifts are inside you right now, waiting to change the world. If this story touched your heart, don’t keep it to yourself.
