“Love is the greatest inheritance,” my late Grandma Rosalind once told me. It took a shocking will reading for her greedy children to finally understand.

Just a week before Grandma’s 89th birthday, we were devastated to learn she had lost her hearing. We still celebrated, but the mood shifted when I overheard Uncle Bill and Aunt Sarah discussing how they couldn’t wait for her to die and claim her property. They thought Grandma was too old to notice.

Later, I was stunned to discover that Grandma wasn’t entirely deaf. “We’re going to teach them a lesson they’ll never forget,” she confided in me. Together, we recorded the cruel words of our relatives, capturing their greed and disdain.

When Grandma passed away, the will reading was a bombshell. Each of my relatives received a recording of their own nasty remarks, realizing too late that Grandma had been aware of their true intentions. Uncle Bill’s recording said, “I can’t wait for the old bat to kick the bucket already.” Aunt Sarah’s was no better: “God, why won’t she just die already? I’ve got plans for that beach house.”

As they sat in stunned silence, Mr. Thompson, our family lawyer, handed me an envelope. Inside was a letter from Grandma: “You were the only one who saw me for who I was, not what I had. That’s why I’m leaving everything to you. Remember: love is the greatest inheritance.”