Stories

While decorating for Christmas, I discovered an old photo of my father, who’d vanished 24 years ago. Hours later, a freezing teenager showed up at my door holding a bracelet I’d made for Dad when I was six. His words, “I finally found you,” chilled me more than the December air.

My hands were raw from digging through ancient moving boxes while searching for the special ornaments Mark and I had collected during our first year of marriage.

The basement’s dim lighting cast long shadows across the concrete floor, making the stacks of boxes look like city skyscrapers in miniature.

“Mommy, can I put the star on top?” Katie called down the stairs. At five, everything was magic to her, especially Christmas. She’d been vibrating with excitement since Thanksgiving, counting down the days on her paper chain with religious devotion.

“Soon, baby. Let me just find it first.” I reached deeper into another box, my fingers brushing against something smooth. Not the star, a photograph.

My breath caught. Mom and Dad smiled up at me from the glossy surface, their faces frozen in a moment of happiness I barely remembered. Dad’s arm was wrapped around Mom’s waist, and she was laughing at something he’d said.

The timestamp in the corner read December 1997. Eight months before he vanished.

“Yeah, just…” I swallowed hard, trying to push down the lump in my throat. “Just found some old stuff.”

The photo trembled in my hands. Twenty-four years hadn’t dulled the ache of waking up one morning to find Dad gone, leaving nothing behind to explain why.

Mom never recovered, really. She walked around like a ghost for two years, forgetting to eat, forgetting to smile.

When cancer took her, it felt like it was just finishing what grief had started. I ended up bouncing between foster homes, carrying questions no one could answer.

I shoved the photo back into the box. “Nothing. Ancient history.” I forced a smile as I raised my voice to call out, “Katie, honey, help Mommy hang these candy canes while Daddy fixes the star.”

Mark shot me a look that said we’d talk later, but he didn’t push. It was one of the things I loved most about him — he knew when to wait.

We’d just finished the lower branches when someone knocked at the front door. Three sharp raps that echoed through our entry hall like gunshots.

“I’ll get it!” Katie started forward, but I caught her arm.

“Hold on, sweetie.” It was nearly eight at night on Christmas Eve. Not exactly prime visiting hours.

The knocking came again, more insistent this time. I approached the door cautiously, peeking through the side window. A boy stood on our porch, maybe thirteen or fourteen, hunched against the December wind.

I opened the door a crack. “Can I help you?”

He lifted his head, and his hand shot out, palm up, revealing something that made my knees go weak: a braided friendship bracelet, faded and frayed, but unmistakable.

Red, blue, and yellow threads woven together in a pattern I’d practiced for weeks to get right. I’d made it for Dad when I was six, prouder of that simple bracelet than anything I’d ever created.

“I finally found you,” the boy said, his voice cracking slightly.

“Can I come in? Please? It’s freezing out here.” He shivered, and I noticed his lips were slightly blue.

Mark appeared behind me. “Ella? Everything okay?”

I nodded numbly, stepping back to let the boy enter. He shuffled into our warmth, stamping snow from his boots.

“I’m David,” he said, rubbing his hands together. His fingers were red from the cold. “And I’m your brother.”

The world tilted sideways. “That’s not possible. I’m an only child.”

David pulled a creased photograph from his pocket.

“My father’s name was Christopher. He kept this in his wallet.”

He handed me a picture of himself at maybe ten years old, sitting on a familiar pair of shoulders. Dad’s shoulders. Dad’s smile. They were at some kind of carnival, cotton candy in David’s hands, both of them beaming at the camera.

My legs wouldn’t hold me anymore. I sank onto our sofa, the photograph burning in my hands. “He’s alive?”

Mark quietly ushered Katie upstairs, murmuring something about getting her ready for bed. He always knew exactly what I needed, even when I didn’t.

“He didn’t disappear,” David continued, perching on the edge of our armchair. “I’m sorry, but he left you and your mom. For my mom.”

Each word fell like a stone into still water, ripples of pain spreading outward.

The words hit like slaps. “He had another family?”

“So you’ve been alone?” My voice sounded strange in my ears.

“Foster care.” David shrugged, but I saw the tension in his shoulders. “Not great. Better than some, worse than others.”

“I know exactly what you mean. That’s where I ended up after my mom passed.”

He nodded earnestly, and I felt my shock fade as a sense of kinship took over. I still wasn’t entirely sold on the idea that this kid was my brother, but our shared pain formed a tentative bond nonetheless.

We talked through the night, sharing fragments of the same man: Dad’s laugh, his terrible jokes, and the way he hummed while he cooked. David told me about fishing trips and baseball games. I told him about puppet shows and bedtime stories.

Each of us had experienced subtly different versions of Christopher, neither quite complete.

By morning, I knew what I had to do. Mark agreed immediately, understanding without me having to explain.

Zero percent match.

I read it again, understanding blooming like frost across a window. David wasn’t my brother. Which meant he hadn’t been Dad’s son either. All those years, all those memories were built on a lie.

“That’s not true.” I took his hand.

“Listen, I know what it’s like to feel completely alone. To wonder if you’ll ever belong anywhere again. But you found me for a reason, DNA or not. If you want, we can make this official. You could stay with us and be part of our family.”

His eyes widened. “Really? But I’m not… we’re not—”

“Family is more than blood,” Mark said from the doorway. “It’s choice, it’s love, and it’s showing up every day and choosing to stick around.”

David’s answer was a hug so fierce it knocked the breath from my lungs.

A year later, we hung ornaments together, laughing as Katie directed us from her perch on Mark’s shoulders. The old photo of my parents sat on our mantel now, next to a new one of David, Katie, Mark, and me, all wearing matching Christmas sweaters.

We were a family now, brought together in a way that felt a little like a Christmas miracle. The kind of miracle that didn’t need magic, just open hearts and the courage to say yes to love.

Here’s another story: I was suspicious when my controlling MIL demanded we use her special Christmas tree for our first time hosting the family gathering. However, her lack of decorating demands threw me off guard — until we plugged it in and discovered the true reason she was so insistent about that tree. Click here to keep reading.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

My dream apartment turned into a living nightmare when I began receiving threatening notes, each more chilling than the last. When I discovered who was behind them, my blood froze, and my life was never the same.

Two weeks ago, I’d been on top of the world. After years of scrimping and saving, I’d finally landed the apartment of my dreams. A charming two-bedroom flat in the historic district, complete with vintage fixtures and a balcony overlooking the park.

I twirled around the empty living room, my laughter bouncing off the walls. “Can you believe it, Mom? It’s all mine!”

My mom, Christie, stood in the doorway, a tight smile on her face. “It’s… nice, honey. But are you sure about this? It’s so far from home.”

I waved off her concern. “Mom, I’m 35. It’s time I had my own place. Besides, it’s only a 30-minute drive.”

She nodded, but I could see the worry in her eyes. “I know, I know. I just… I’ll miss having you around.”

I gave her a quick hug. “I’ll visit all the time, I promise. Now, help me pick out some curtains for these gorgeous windows!”

“What do you think about this floral pattern?” I asked, holding up a sample as we pored over fabric swatches.

But then, things took a bizarre turn.

One morning as I was leaving for work, I noticed a crumpled paper stuck to my front door. My hands shook as I peeled it off, revealing the jagged scrawl beneath:

“Move out or you’ll regret it.”

A sick joke, I hoped. A wrong address, maybe?

But a cold dread crept in. It was the start of something sinister. And those menacing notes? They kept coming.

“This apartment will harm you.”

“Get out before it’s too late.”

The handwriting was always different, but the message was chillingly consistent.

I flicked on the lights, half-expecting to find an intruder.

Instead, I was greeted by the familiar sight of my cozy living room. The reading nook I’d set up by the window. The mini home office in the corner. Everything exactly in place as I’d left it.

With a sigh, I dropped my bag and headed to the balcony. Maybe some fresh air would clear my head, I thought. But as I stepped outside, my breath caught in my throat.

“Oh my God,” I whispered, stumbling backward. This wasn’t the first time. It was the second that week.

My phone suddenly buzzed in my pocket. It was a text from Mom: “How’s the new place, sweetie? Everything okay?”

I stared at the message, my fingers hovering over the keys. Should I tell her? No, she’d only worry. Besides, what would I say? ‘Hey Mom, someone’s leaving dead birds on my balcony’?

Instead, I typed: “Everything’s great! Just getting settled in. Talk soon!”

As I hit send, I couldn’t help but wonder who was trying to scare me out of my home… And why?

I found another dead pigeon on my balcony early the next morning. Just lying there, lifeless.

My stomach churned. It felt like a sinister omen. I was terrified beyond words.

Constantly on edge, I was obsessed with checking locks and avoiding the windows. Every creak in the night sent my heart racing.

Maybe I should just move? Start over somewhere new?

No! I shook my head, furious with myself for even considering it.

I’d worked too hard for this place. Two years of grueling overtime and sacrificed vacations. I wasn’t going to let some coward with a twisted sense of humor drive me out.

I opened my laptop and started searching for hidden cameras. If someone’s trying to scare me, I’m going to catch them in the act.

It was Mom again: “Just checking in. You’ve been quiet lately. Everything alright?”

I hesitated, then typed back: “Just busy with work. How about lunch this weekend?”

Her reply was almost instant: “Sounds great! I’ll bring your favorite cookies.”

I smiled, feeling a little better. At least I had Mom in my corner. Whatever’s going on, I’ll figure it out. I have to, I thought.

“Bring it on, mystery creep,” I muttered, closing my laptop. “Your days are numbered.”

The cameras arrived two days later.

I spent the evening setting them up, hidden in strategic spots around the apartment. One by the front door, one in the hallway, and of course, one on the balcony, carefully hidden behind a plant.

For the next week, I was a bundle of nerves, constantly checking the footage. Every sound made me jump. Every shadow seemed sinister.

“You look tired, Sam,” my coworker, Lisa, said over lunch. “Everything okay at home?”

I forced a laugh. “Oh, you know how it is with a new place. Still getting used to all the new noises.”

She nodded sympathetically. “I get it. When I moved into my apartment, I swore it was haunted for the first month.”

If only ghosts were my problem, I thought. At least then I’d know what I was dealing with.

That night, as I was reviewing the day’s footage, something caught my eye. A figure, approaching my door in the darkness.

“NO,” I gasped. “IT CAN’T BE.”

But there was no denying what I was seeing. The person leaving those terrifying notes, the one trying to scare me out of my home, was none other than my own MOTHER.

“MOM??” I choked out, staring at the frozen image on my screen. “Why?”

The next morning, I called my Mom, my voice carefully neutral. “Hey, want to come over for coffee?”

“Of course, sweetie!” she chirped. “I’ll bring those muffins you love.”

Mom was chattering away about her book club, but I could barely focus on her words. All I could see was the image from last night’s footage, playing on a loop in my mind.

Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. “Mom,” I interrupted. “I need to talk to you about something.”

She paused, her brows furrowing in concern. “What is it, honey? You look pale.”

I took a deep breath. “I’ve been finding… notes. Threatening notes on my door.”

I shook my head, watching her closely. “No, because… I know who’s been leaving them. I set up hidden cameras.”

Her eyes widened, but she didn’t say anything.

“Why Mom?” I confronted her. “Why would you do this to me?”

The color drained from her face.

For a long moment, she just stared at me, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Then, to my shock, she burst into tears.

“I’m so sorry, Sammy,” she sobbed, burying her face in her hands. “I didn’t know what else to do!”

“Samantha, honey,” Mom cried, “I miss you so much. The house feels like a tomb without you. It’s so quiet. So empty. I know I shouldn’t, but I thought maybe if I scared you a little, you’d come back. I know it’s wrong, but I just… I just miss you so much.”

“I know it was wrong,” she hiccupped, wiping her eyes. “I just… I miss you so much, honey.”

She shook her head, looking ashamed. “You seemed so happy here. I didn’t want to burden you with my silly feelings.”

She nodded, squeezing my hand. “I know. I’m so, so sorry, Sammy. Can you ever forgive me?”

I took a deep breath, meeting her tear-filled eyes. “I can, Mom. But we need to figure out a better way forward. For both of us.”

She nodded eagerly. “Anything, sweetie. I’ll do anything.”

As we talked it out, I felt a weight lifting off my shoulders. The mystery was solved, but then I remembered something.

“Oh, what about the dead pigeons on my balcony?”

Just then, a movement caught my eye.

I turned to see Ginger, the neighbor’s tabby cat, casually strolling across my balcony with a limp bird in his mouth. The culprit behind the unfortunate gifts on my balcony was finally revealed.

Despite everything, I couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, I guess that solves that mystery.”

We had a long way to go, but as we sat there, laughing through our tears, I realized that sometimes the scariest things are just cries for help. And love, even when it takes a wrong turn, can find a way to bring us back together.

Moreover, this experience taught me a lasting lesson on the importance of talking things through, even when it’s tough. Because even those who love us can make mistakes.

Here’s another story: Before she passed away, my grandmother feigned deafness to teach her greedy children, who were solely interested in her money, a lasting lesson.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

An arrogant man constantly mocks his wife for being a terrible homemaker but later regrets his remarks when karma teaches him a lesson the hard way.

Raising three children while working was exhausting, and because she wasn’t able to focus properly at home, she made terrible mistakes. Sometimes the breakfast was burnt, and other times she’d leave the iron on or end up burning the clothes while ironing them.

Tired of seeing his wife’s incompetency at managing both house and work, Martin started getting impatient with her. He ordered Shannon to quit her job and look after their kids full-time. The woman hesitated and said she’d manage both sides, but that wasn’t happening, so she had to quit her job.

If there were dirty dishes, it was Shannon’s fault. If their kids’ toys were left on the living room floor, it was Shannon’s fault. If the food had extra salt, it was again Shannon’s fault.

Every time something went wrong, it was Shannon’s fault, and Shannon, according to Martin, was not supposed to make mistakes. So, whenever something went wrong, Martin would lash out at his wife, accusing her of being lazy and saying she could never do anything properly!

“I can’t believe you’re the same woman I fought with my mom to marry, Shannon,” Martin would often taunt her, reflecting on their past when Martin had started dating her against his mother’s wishes.

Shannon obviously felt bad when she heard Martin say those things, but she looked at her children and didn’t say anything because she didn’t want her family to break up. Martin never understood that, and one day the man just crossed the line….

Lucas and Justin celebrated their first birthday that day and there was a party at home. That night, Shannon was in the twins’ room, singing her babies a lullaby and attempting to put them to sleep, but thanks to Martin, this was impossible as the babies began crying when they heard him.

Shannon rushed to the living room after placing the babies in their cradles. “Martin, what the hell is wrong with you? Can’t you keep your mouth shut? Claire just fell asleep, and I’m having a hard time getting Lucas and Justin to sleep!”

“Having a hard time?” Martin laughed sarcastically. “Babe, I guess you’ve forgotten that’s what you’re supposed to do. After all, it’s not like you earn for us!”

“Really, Martin? Stop acting like you do a lot for us! I am the one who does everything around the house, from the laundry to the clothes to the dishes!”

“Look, Shannon! I’m not here to hear your so-called feminist speech. After you’ve put the kids to bed, make sure the dishes are done. I’m going to bed because I’m exhausted. The last thing I want to see in the morning is a stinky kitchen!” Martin remarked angrily, pointing to their kitchen sink piled high with dishes.

“You can’t be serious, Martin! How can you even ask me to do everything alone? I had to cook for everyone, now I’m busy with the babies. Can’t you at least help me?”

“Do what? Help?” Martin laughed. “It’s your job, Shannon. Do it properly at least once. Okay?” he added before departing for their bedroom.

“Look, Martin….” Shannon had just started speaking when she felt a little dizzy. She grasped the ends of a table tightly and continued, “Martin, I haven’t had the time to eat anything since morning. Ca-Can you….” Before Shannon could finish speaking, she felt her head getting heavy and collapsed to the ground.

As Shannon collapsed, the vase on the table fell and broke into pieces, making a loud noise that alerted Martin. When he turned around and saw Shannon had fainted, he frowned. “Shannon, get up! Can you hear me? See, if you’re just pretending, it’s not funny!”

Martin called his next-door neighbor, Mrs. Cameron, and asked her to watch the kids while he waited for the ambulance.

Every minute felt like an eternity to Martin, but the wait was over in 10 minutes. As the paramedics arrived, Martin rushed out to the ambulance, holding Shannon in his arms. The doctors informed him that Shannon had collapsed due to exhaustion and would be under their observation for a while.

Martin returned home from the hospital late at night and went to the kitchen for a glass of water when he stepped on pieces from a broken vase. He crouched and began picking them up when his gaze was drawn to a note on the floor. He picked it up and started reading it. It was Shannon’s to-do list.

5.30 a.m. – Take a shower and prepare Claire’s school bag

6:00 a.m. – Babies’ milk. Also, Claire should be awake by now

7:00 – Wake Martin up (Why can’t he get up on his own?)

7:30 – Start preparing breakfast

8:00 – Claire’s school bus arrives

8:15 – Martin’s clothes need to be ironed, and his lunch needs to be packed

9:00 – Martin leaves (Free time, hehe)

Till 10:00, you can relax, Shannon! Babies need to be fed, don’t forget! And you have to clean the dishes and Clarie’s room.

12:00 – Lunch

1:00 – Claire comes back

2:00 – Claire’s tuitions

3:00 – Pick Claire up

4:00 – Bake cookies for Claire

5:00 – Start dinner preparations

7:00 – Have dinner

8: 00 – Spend time with Martin

8: 00 – Clean the dishes

9: 00 – Laundry and prepare for the next day

10: 00 – Read a book (If you’re not dead!)

You can do it, Shannon!

Martin couldn’t believe his eyes when he read the list. Shannon wasn’t free for a single second of the day. She was always preoccupied with one thing or another. No wonder she was exhausted! And then I was constantly yelling at her! Martin felt bad for lashing out at her.

Martin realized at that point that he should not have been so harsh on his wife. She was going above and beyond for them! So the next time he went to see Shannon in the hospital, he stopped by a flower shop and bought her favorite flowers.

He gave them to Shannon and apologized to her at the hospital. “I’m sorry, babe. The doctors said you fainted because of exhaustion. I shouldn’t have been so harsh to you.”

Shannon was taken aback by her husband’s surprising gesture. “Are you okay, Martin? I mean…”

Martin took a step forward and hugged Shannon before she could finish. “Of course I am. Could we please remain like this for a moment?”

“Yes, babe. I’m sorry, and I love you!”

“I love you too, honey,” Shannon told herself, a little taken aback by her husband’s unexpected concern for her, but she was glad he was there for her.

Martin had become a completely different person since then. He hired a nanny to assist Shannon at home, and on weekends when their nanny was away, he helped his wife with housework. Martin finally realized, albeit late, that being a homemaker is not an easy job!

What can we learn from this story?

• You won’t understand someone’s situation until you step into their shoes. Martin tried accomplishing Shannon’s list for a day and failed terribly.
• Respect everyone’s profession. No matter what job it is, it takes a lot of hard work and effort to accomplish one’s task. Martin learned this the hard way when he walked in Shannon’s shoes for a day.

If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a poor widower struggling to feed his 3 adopted triplets when he receives a letter from Santa one day.

This account is inspired by our reader’s story and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.

A bus driver kicks an elderly lady off the bus because she couldn’t pay for her ticket, but when he arrived at his fiancée’s house he realized who she was.

George pulled into a bus stop and watched as the people shuffled in one by one, flashing their cards. Then an older lady in a long dark overcoat stepped up to him and started fishing for her purse.

George groaned. She was going to hold him up and every second counted if he wanted to be on time to meet Angelica’s parents.

“Good afternoon,” the older lady said with a sweet smile. “I’m sorry, my wallet seems to have fallen to the bottom of my bag…” The woman kept rummaging, then she started to take out things.

“I’m sorry,” the lady stammered. “I went into the city to get my granddaughter an engagement gift and I must have dropped it…Oh, no! My phone is gone too!” The woman was pale and her eyes glittered with embarrassed tears.

Kindness doesn’t cost a dime, but cruelty can cost you the love of your life.

“Sob stories I hear plenty,” George said in a nasty tone. “You pay and you stay — or you get off the bus and walk home!”

“I swear to you,” the older woman cried. “I swear this is God’s truth! My wallet is gone, and I have no way to get home!”

“Please, son,” the older woman said with quiet dignity. “I’ve had surgery recently on my knee, I can’t drive which is why I took the bus — and I won’t be able to walk such a distance to get home.

“You should have thought of that before you pulled off this scam!” Geoge screamed. “GET OFF!”

The woman pushed her belongings back into her bag and stepped off the bus. George’s last glimpse of her was through his review mirror. She looked lost and small and for a second he felt a twinge of pity for her.

Then his eye fell on the clock on his dashboard. He was already late! He drove away from the woman and the bus stop, sure that he would never see her again.

Geoge started thinking about Angie. She was something! Angelica was beautiful and smart — way out of his league, all his friends had thought. Since when does the daughter of a millionaire fall for a bus driver?

So tonight was the first time he was meeting the Westerly family and he wanted to make a good impression, which meant making it back in time for a quick shower and a change into a smart suit.

Three-quarters of an hour later, George was standing in front of the door to the gorgeous Westerly brownstone in Tribeca adjusting his tie nervously, then he rang the doorbell.

“I’ll get it!” George heard Angie’s cheerful voice holler out, and then the door swung open, and there she was! George just stared at her, then he was enfolded in Angie’s arms and her perfume surrounded him. Angie whispered in his ear, “Don’t be nervous, I love you!”

Angelica led George into a beautiful room where a slender woman who looked a lot like her was sitting. The woman got up and smiled stiffly.

“That’s quite all right, Mrs. Westerly,” George said politely and hunted for something to say. “Your home is lovely, did you decorate it yourself?” It was the right thing to say.

Meredith brightened up and started taking George on a tour of the room, droning on about different knick-knacks, all of which seemed to have some boring story from the Westerly’s travels around the globe.

And then George’s heart skipped a beat. In a heavy silver frame in the mantel was a photograph of the old woman he had thrown off the bus. “Oh my God!” George gasped. “Who is that?”

“Really?” George asked as an icy frisson ran down his spine. Then a key turned in the front door lock, and a tall middle-aged man walked in, an arm wrapped protectively around the shoulders of the old lady from the bus.

“Meredith,” he cried. “Please ask for some hot tea for my mother. The poor dear is freezing!”

Angie immediately ran to the old woman and wrapped her arms around her. “Oh, gran Millie,” she cried. “You have to be more careful…”

Gran Millie shuddered. “The bus driver was the most unkind man! He refused to listen, and he refused to help…” Then the inevitable happened. Her eyes fell on George and she recognized him immediately.

“You!” she cried. “What are you doing here? If some kind lady hadn’t let me use her cellphone I’d still be standing in the snow!”

Angelica frowned. “What do you mean Gran?” she asked bewildered. “This is George. Remember we are having dinner with him?”

“I’m not senile, Angie!” the woman cried. “This is the driver who kicked me off the bus and into the snowstorm and told me I was a con artist!”

“Look, Angie,” George said. “I was late and I didn’t know it was your grandmother…” The words choked in his dry mouth. Angelica was looking at him as if he was a stranger. Then she pulled the ring off her finger.

“Here,” she said, handing him the ring. “Take it back. I don’t even know who you are. I won’t marry you.”

George cried and knelt at her feet. He begged for her forgiveness, but nothing he could do or say made her change her mind. George was old news, and as he walked out of that house into the snow, he knew he had lost her because he just wasn’t good enough for her.

• Kindness doesn’t cost a dime, but cruelty can cost you the love of your life. If George had been understanding and kind, he would have been Angie’s husband.
• Never deny a genuine appeal for help. Gran Millie was in trouble, but George was too selfish to take the time to help and he lost his beautiful fiancée.

Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.

If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a woman who is distraught when her husband sells their dead baby son’s toys and clothes in a yard sale.

This account is inspired by our reader’s story and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.

A childless couple mourning the loss of their only son goes for a long walk in the snow and makes an incredible discovery that changes their lives.

She clambered down heavily, supporting her heavy belly with one hand, and one of the passengers stepped forward to lend a hand. “Get off me!” she snarled, “I’m no cripple!” And she wasn’t, but if the bus driver was any judge, she was about nine months pregnant and near her time.

So a woman climbed off a bus in a small town in Omaha in late winter, pregnant and with no luggage except for a faded green backpack she dragged by its straps. The passenger who’d tried to help her said, “Listen, there is a hospital two blocks down…”

The nurses clucked and cooed when she delivered a baby boy, but she just turned her face away sullenly. “When can I get out of here?” she asked. She was told the doctor would be by in a few hours to see her and the baby and that in the meantime she should rest.

So she turned on her side and pretended to fall asleep, but as soon as the noise in the small ward died down, she was up, quick as a cat. She pushed her clothes into the backpack, and whatever she could pilfer from the room along with it.

She hesitated over the baby sleeping in the perspex crib next to her bed. Then she picked him up and wrapped him roughly in one of the blankets from her bed. She pushed open the door. The coast was clear, and in a second she was gone.

Despite all she had been through, she was a quick walker, and soon she was past the last of the softly lit townhouses and into the treeline of the forest. It was there that she stopped, dropped the backpack, and stood for a moment, hesitating.

She held the sleeping baby and looked down at it. What she felt and why she did what she did is part of another story, what matters to us is that she said in a voice that was not ungentle, “You sleep now, kid, it won’t hurt, not like life hurts.”

Maybe if it had known it would have woken up, screaming, begging for rescue. Who knows? It was so quiet in those woods, and so peaceful. Only an owl flew around the tree on whispering wings to investigate.

Love heals the deepest wounds.

But not far away, within screaming distance, in fact, another part of another story was coming to an end. A man and a woman were doing the hardest thing anyone born with a heart can do: say goodbye to a child.

John and Fallon Sorenson had been married for ten years, and their biggest dream had been to have a baby. They had been overjoyed when Fallon fell pregnant and they welcomed a sweet baby boy they named Ryan.

One little vein in Ryan’s brain was swelling and growing like a balloon, and then one day the balloon burst, and just like that, Ryan was gone. He was just two.

Fallon and John were in shock. How was it possible for their baby to be running along the beach one moment and just gone the next? “What kind of God lets this happen?” Fallon kept screaming.

And of course, nobody answered her, because nobody knew. After a while, Fallon stopped screaming, but John thought that was even worse because she’d just sit there, not moving, not speaking.

On this particular night, John was watching TV when Fallon suddenly got up and put on her coat. “Hun,” John asked. “Where are you going?” But Fallon didn’t answer, so John grabbed his own coat and cell phone and followed her out.

In just a few minutes, Fallon was already just a smudge in the moonlight, so John ran to catch up with her. “Fallon!” he cried, “This has to stop!” He turned her around and looked into her face.

“Ryan is dead, but I’m alive, and you’re alive,” John said angrily. “Stop this once and for all!” But Fallon wasn’t listening to him at all. She had her head tilted and she was frowning.

“You’re IMAGINING things!” John screamed, really angry now, “THERE IS NO BABY OUT HERE!” And that was when the distinctive, unmistakable sound of a baby crying filled the night.

Dazed, John called an ambulance, and before long the baby was safe and warm and being fed formula at the hospital’s neonatal unit. The authorities tried to find the baby’s mother but to no avail.

They finally acceded to the Sorensons’ request, and Fallon and John adopted him and called him Thomas. Fallon still believes that God guided Thomas into their lives, and I guess maybe I believe it too.

• Every child deserves to be wanted and loved. Luckily, life or his guardian angel put loving parents in Thomas’ path.
• Love heals the deepest wounds. Even though no one could take the place of their son, the Sorensons found healing in loving little Thomas who needed them.

Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.

If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a teenager whose parents kicked her out of the house when she was seventeen, and later came knocking on her door.

This account is inspired by our reader’s story but written by a professional writer. All names have been changed to protect identities and ensure privacy. Share your story with us, maybe it will change someone’s life.

Iris was so delighted. Her daughter Eliza was all set to get married to the love of her life, Daniel. So Iris shuffled toward her future son-in-law to give him her late husband’s diamond cufflinks.

Then, they both walked away from the venue toward the back of the restaurant. Curious, Iris tiptoed behind them, only to see them slipping into a bathroom together…

Iris slightly opened the door, and her heart sank when she peered inside.

“I can’t wait anymore, babe,” Daniel tugged at Mellissa’s waist, pulling her closer.

“Not now, darling,” Melissa crooned. “If someone finds out, our plans will be ruined. Patience, babe…you just need to stay married for a little. Think of the big payday we’ll get when you divorce your boring wife. Millions of dollars worth…but now control yourself!”

Iris leaned over and glimpsed at Daniel and Melissa on the bathroom mirror. They were locked in each others’ arms, kissing passionately.

“Not now…” Melissa muttered. “We have to get back.”

“Not until you promise to meet me at my house later,” Daniel said. “We carry on like we always have…after Eliza’s gone to work!”

Melissa giggled. Unable to see or take it anymore, Iris hurried away to warn her daughter.

“Before we proceed to the wedding hall, the bride has a special gift for the groom,” he announced.

Eliza appeared on the stage and took the mic from the MC.

“…I’ve waited for a long time to find a real love…and I want to dedicate this to him!”

As the band behind Eliza started playing the chords, she sang a melodious love song. A hush fell over the room as Eliza finished singing.

The guests applauded, and Daniel rushed onto the stage and hugged her. Iris knew it would crush her daughter’s heart when she learned the truth about Daniel’s scheming.

Iris weaved through the crowd and approached her daughter. “Eliza, I have to tell you something…it’s about Daniel.”

“Is everything okay, Mom?”

“Sweetie, he is…Can we talk privately?”

“Daniel’s waiting for me. We’ll talk after the first dance, okay?”

Melissa sidled around Iris and approached the bride. “Daniel’s waiting for you in the dance hall.”

Eliza was so gorgeous in her wedding dress as she followed Melissa to the door. Iris was shattered, and she did not have the courage to break her daughter’s heart on her big day.

Eliza and Daniel drove Iris to the airport the following Monday to catch an early flight back home. Iris was disgusted to watch Daniel acting so lovey-dovey with Eliza.

Iris hugged Eliza goodbye before heading to the boarding lounge. Around 15 minutes later, she called a cab and returned to Eliza’s house.

Iris knew Melissa and Daniel would meet after Eliza went to work, and she decided to catch them.

When Iris arrived at Eliza’s house, she saw Melissa’s car parked in the driveway. She quickly called Eliza.

“Sweetie, my flight was canceled,” Iris told her daughter. “I hailed a taxi to your place…I’m feeling dizzy…can you meet me there?”

“Oh, God, Mom! I’m busy…but don’t worry. I’ll call Daniel and ask him, alright?”

“No, don’t call him. I want you to come here…please, it’s important.”

Eliza sighed. “Fine…I’m coming.”

Iris hung up and crept up to the window.

He set her down, and the pair started making out on the couch.

Iris glanced at the street, but there was still no sign of Eliza. She peeked through the window and quickly looked away in disgust, seeing how things inside had heated up.

Iris stood by the curb, praying for her daughter to be there soon. Five minutes later, Eliza pulled up.

“Mom, are you okay?” Eliza approached Iris.

“No, I’m not. Your husband and that Melissa. They’re in there…fooling around.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I overheard them on your wedding day…”

“You overheard what?”

“They are having an affair…and have planned to swindle you and take your money when Daniel leaves you,” Iris replied as Eliza froze.

“Daniel and Melissa?” Eliza’s breath shuddered. “He’s always been nice to me…how did I not have a clue about this affair?”

“They’re in there right now…” Iris pointed to the door. “Why don’t you go see with your own eyes?”

Eliza nodded curtly and wiped her tears. She angrily marched to the front door, and Iris was right behind her.

“What the hell’s going on here?” she yelled.

Iris rushed in but was caught off-guard by the sight before her shocked eyes. It didn’t make any sense.

Just mere minutes ago, when she looked through the window, Daniel and Melissa were engrossed in their intimate moment. But now, they were casually seated on the sofa like nothing had happened.

“Eliza? What do you mean?” Daniel replied. “Melissa and I were discussing work…Didn’t I tell you I’d be working from home this week?”

“You LIAR!” Iris pointed at Daniel. “I saw the both of you doing ‘things’ on that sofa…you must’ve seen us coming and gotten dressed.”

“Gotten dressed?” Melissa frowned. “Jesus…you think Daniel and I are having…an affair?”

“Just shut up,” Eliza snapped. “My mother saw you two in the bathroom on our wedding day…and now, in our house. You were so insistent on sharing our assets and money when we got married. And now I know why…Daniel, you married me for my money.’

“That’s not true!” Daniel denied the allegation. “Being married means sharing everything. What’s mine is yours, Eliza. I’m sorry your mother thinks so cheap of me…but she’s mistaken. Melissa and I are friends and business partners. I thought you… trusted me.”

“Eliza, I love you…and I can prove it,” Daniel took Eliza’s hand.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a bunch of keys.

“See this?” He dropped the keys into Eliza’s palm. “I made the final payment for our new home yesterday. Melissa was here to help me with an idea to surprise you. But everything’s ruined now.”

“He’s lying, Eliza,” Iris insisted as she watched Eliza lift the keys with her trembling fingers.

But Eliza didn’t seem to hear. “You were going to surprise me?” she whispered.

Daniel snatched the keys from Eliza and stormed to their bedroom.

“Wait, you can’t just leave me like this,” Eliza ran after Daniel. “I don’t doubt you…but I know Mom would never tell me something like this unless it’s true.”

Daniel stopped and turned around. “I don’t know what your Mom saw and heard. I’ve offered you proof. If you still don’t believe me, I don’t think this marriage can last.”

“I love you too,” Daniel said. “I don’t understand what went wrong to make it easy for you to believe such awful things about me. If you truly believe that I’ve been unfaithful to you, tell me now. I’ll pack my things and leave you…forever.”

“I trust you! Please forgive me,” Eliza hugged Daniel as Iris couldn’t believe it.

Iris’s heart raced in her chest. It was all too much for her. Her knees gave way as a dull pain spread through her chest. The last thing Iris heard was the piercing shrill of ambulance sirens.

Iris was rushed to the hospital, where the doctors informed her she’d had a heart attack.

“You scared me, Mom…I’m glad you’re okay,” Eliza visited Iris and hugged her.

“I’ll feel a lot better if you tell me that you’ve kicked that fraudster and his mistress out.”

Eliza rolled her eyes. “Mom, please don’t talk about my husband like that. You’ve mistaken things about him…”

“Wake up, Eliza. He’s just using you. All that nonsense about buying a house was his way of guilt-tripping you into staying.”

“But it proves he loves me. Why would he want me to stay if he was only after my money?”

“Fine then,” Iris said. “If you don’t want to open your eyes and see the reality, then things are going to be different from now on.”

“What do you mean, Mom?”

Iris reached for her phone and dialed a number.

“What?” Eliza stood shocked. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’m sorry, Eliza, but you left me with no choice. I don’t want our family’s hard-earned money being palmed to a gold-digger using you.”

“Fine!” Eliza yelled. “If you’re cutting me off your will, so be it. I don’t want to see you again.”

The following few weeks were the most challenging days for Iris. She underwent heart surgery and was released from the hospital after a long recovery period.

Iris wasn’t surprised when there was no reply. But one day, her doorbell rang. When Iris opened the door, she froze in disbelief.

“Eliza?!” Iris teared up as a wave of emotions washed over her. “Sweetie…”

Iris stopped talking when Eliza looked at her with red, puffy eyes.

“It’s Daniel, isn’t it?” She wrapped her arms around Eliza’s shoulders and led her inside.

“I’m sorry, Mom…I should’ve listened to you,” Eliza sobbed. “You were right!”

Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.

Ally bursts into the church and interrupts the bride, who is about to finish saying her wedding vow. Ally introduces herself as the groom’s ex-girlfriend and accuses him of being a con man. Here’s the full story.

This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.

I was suspicious when my controlling MIL demanded we use her special Christmas tree for our first time hosting the family gathering. However, her lack of decorating demands threw me off guard — until we plugged it in and discovered the true reason she was so insistent about that tree.

My mother-in-law, Veronica, had always been the controlling type, especially when it came to family gatherings and the traditions surrounding them, but this was weird, even for her.

“What do you make of this?” I asked my husband Brent that evening, holding up the note that came with the artificial Christmas tree. The paper trembled slightly in my hand.

This is the tree you will use for Christmas. Place it in the corner of your living room near the door. You can decorate it however you like, it read in Veronica’s precise handwriting.

Brent ran his fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair, squinting at the note. “Mom’s always been particular, but sending us a whole tree?”

“Without even including specifications about decorations! No color-coordinated ornament scheme? No lecture about the proper angle for the star?” I tried to keep my tone light, but the unease had already settled in my stomach like a stone.

“Maybe she’s finally learning to let go a little,” Brent said, but his voice held more hope than conviction.

Brent groaned. “Or Thanksgiving two years ago, when she brought her own turkey because she wasn’t sure I’d cook ours the ‘family way’?”

“Which apparently means drowning it in butter and covering it in bacon,” I added, managing a laugh. “My arteries are still recovering.”

I spent the next two months throwing myself into preparations for our first time hosting the family Christmas gathering.

The tree sat in its box in the stipulated corner of our living room, like some sort of holiday time bomb waiting to go off. Every time I passed it, that nagging feeling would return telling me something wasn’t right.

“That’s exactly what’s weird about it,” I insisted, stirring my latte absently. “Veronica’s never given up control of anything without a fight. Last year she made Brent’s brother and his wife redo the entire Christmas dinner table because the centerpiece was blocking what she called ‘crucial sight lines.'”

Kate rolled her eyes. “Maybe she’s finally realized she needs to loosen her grip a little. Especially after that blow-up at Tommy’s graduation.”

Never mind that she hadn’t actually told anyone about these plans.

The day of the gathering arrived crisp and bright, with just enough snow on the ground to make everything look magical.

I’d spent hours getting everything perfect. The garlands were draped just so, the Christmas cookies were arranged on vintage plates, and mulled wine was warming in the kitchen. The house smelled like cinnamon and pine, and soft Christmas music played through the speakers.

“I’m not worrying,” I lied, leaning back against him. “I just want everything to be perfect.”

“It will be,” he assured me, but I noticed him eyeing the still-unplugged tree with slight apprehension.

Family members started trickling in around four. Brent’s sister Sarah arrived first with her husband Mike and their teenagers, Jason and Emma, who immediately made a beeline for the cookies.

His brother David and his wife Emma came next, bringing a bottle of wine and their usual easy-going energy.

“The house looks incredible, Lucy,” Emma gushed, hugging me tight. “I love what you’ve done with the mantel.”

Last came Veronica, perfectly coiffed as always, her lips pressed into what passed for a smile. She was wearing her signature pearl necklace and a Christmas sweater that probably cost more than my entire outfit.

“Lucy, dear,” she said, air-kissing my cheek. “I trust you’ve set up the tree I sent?”

“You were? Is everyone here? The whole family should be present for this tradition.”

David muttered something under his breath, but Veronica silenced him with a look. Everyone gathered around as I reached for the plug and inserted it into the socket. That’s when disaster struck.

A sharp hiss cut through the holiday music playing in the background. Smoke began curling from somewhere inside the tree, and the lights started flickering like something out of a horror movie.

“The fire extinguisher!” I screamed, but Brent was already running to the garage. The acrid smell of burning plastic filled the air as chaos erupted around me.

Sarah herded her teenagers toward the front door while David tried to help by throwing his glass of wine at the base of the tree, which only made the flames angry and spitting.

“Not the wine!” Veronica shrieked, seemingly more concerned about the waste of alcohol than the fact that her gift was currently trying to burn down our house.

Brent returned with the extinguisher, his face set in grim determination as he doused the tree in white foam.

When the flames finally died, we all stood there in shocked silence, staring at the smoking, foam-covered mess that had nearly burned down our house.

That’s when Mike noticed it.

“Hey, what’s this?” He reached into the charred branches and pulled out something small and black. “It looks like… a microphone?”

The silence in the room became deafening.

“Mom,” he said, his voice dangerously quiet, “isn’t this the same kind of listening device you asked me about last month? The one you said you were ‘just curious about’?”

Veronica’s perfectly composed facade cracked. “I… I only wanted to make sure everything would be done properly. The family traditions—”

“Traditions?” Brent’s voice rose. “You planted a bug in our house and nearly burned it down! What were you thinking?”

“You don’t understand!” Veronica’s voice took on a desperate edge. “Everything’s changing! You’re all pulling away, making your own traditions. Lucy’s changing everything—”

“Mom,” Sarah spoke up, her voice shaking, “this is insane. You could have hurt someone.”

“I never meant—” Veronica started, but David cut her off.

“Never meant what? To get caught?” His usual easy-going demeanor had vanished. “How long have you been doing things like this?”

I watched as years of carefully maintained family dynamics crumbled before my eyes. Sarah had her hand over her mouth, David couldn’t even look at their mother, and Emma was furiously typing on her phone.

As everyone filed out, Veronica turned back, her face a mask of desperation. “I only wanted to keep the family together,” she whispered.

“By spying on us?” Brent’s voice was thick with emotion. “You’ve done exactly the opposite, Mom.”

That night, after everyone had gone and Brent had hauled the ruined tree to the curb, I sat down at my computer and started typing.

By morning, it had gone viral. Comments flooded in from people sharing their stories of controlling relatives and holiday disasters. Local news wanted interviews. My phone wouldn’t stop buzzing with notifications.

“You okay?” Brent asked, bringing me coffee as I scrolled through the responses.

“Yeah,” I said, surprising myself by meaning it.

He squeezed my shoulder. “Next year, we’re getting a real tree.”

“Exactly.” Brent grinned.

Sometimes it takes a disaster to clear the air, to burn away the old growth, and make room for something new to flourish. As I looked at the empty corner where the tree had stood, I could already imagine next year’s celebration.

Here’s another story: I hired the same Santa actor to come to our house for three years straight. But it was only last Christmas Eve that I stumbled upon him in the bathroom and discovered why he was so dedicated to us… actually, to my son. Click here to read more.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

After Alice’s grandfather passed away, she was shocked to learn that he had left everything to her brothers, even though he was closest to her. However, after paying a visit to the old barn she had inherited, she stumbled upon something that would change her and her family’s lives forever.

Alice’s parents wanted stability for their children, so they made an agreement with the children’s grandfather, Bill, agreeing that the children would stay with him when they were away at work. As a result, Alice and her brothers spent much time with their grandfather growing up.

Alice loved her grandfather dearly, and over the years, they built a solid relationship. It was not a grandfather and granddaughter relationship, but they were actual friends. Even after Alice’s parents had found stay-home jobs in the country, Alice still visited Bill on a regular.

Unfortunately, Alice’s grandfather eventually passed on. This completely shattered Alice’s heart and brought her world tumbling. Losing her grandfather seemed to have changed everything for her.

Alice understood that he was of ripe age and had lived a long, fruitful life, and had passed away peacefully, but it didn’t make the pain any easier to bear. Her grandfather had become a friend she could count on, someone she could argue and laugh with.

“How could someone who brought such warmth and life suddenly be so cold and lifeless in a single moment?”

Jake and Ashton were eager to learn what they stood to gain as Lawrence read and explained their grandfather’s final wishes.

“Okay. So, what did he leave for us?” Jake asked impatiently.

“Yeah, what do I get?” Ashton added.

“Hold on. We’ll get there. I just want you to understand what your grandfather left behind. So, the estate of…” Lawrence started.

She remembered her mother’s bitter weeping when the doctor announced that her father was gone. She remembered kissing him for the last time and thinking, “How could someone who brought such warmth and life suddenly be so cold and lifeless in a single moment?”

Alice still had a lot to deal with, and Lawrence’s office was the last place she wanted to be. She still had so many questions. She was happy that her grandfather was at rest, but it didn’t make the pain any easier to digest.

“Something like what? You got left with peanuts, sis’. So much for all those summers at grandpa’s.”

“Alice, do you understand what I just said?” Lawrence asked, everyone now staring at her.

“Uhm… What?” Alice asked, snapping out and coming back to reality.

“Wow! A whole barn,” Jake said with a scoff as Ashton broke into laughter.

“Uhm… I strongly suggest you look into trying to salvage what you can from it. It won’t be much, but if you could at least make a deal with the new owners of the land, I’m sure you should be able to get something out of it,” Lawrence said empathetically.

“Something like what? You got left with peanuts, sis’. So much for all those summers at grandpa’s,” Ashton said as he and Jake erupted into laughter again.

Alice, unable to hold back her tears, grabbed her stuff and rushed out.

Alice didn’t care much for Bill’s assets. What really tugged at her heartstrings was that this made her question her relationship with her grandfather. Her brothers had barely spent as much time with him or loved him as she did.

Alice’s grandfather also knew how financially strained she was compared to her brothers. She would have hoped he may have considered this as well. If Alice had inherited the house, she might have at least had a place to stay without paying rent.

The house wasn’t in the best of conditions. It was old and dilapidated. However, if Jake and Ashton worked on it, they could make a good profit from it. Alice, on the other hand, didn’t have much to work with.

“So, what do you say, guys? Can I stay at the house for a bit? Just until I get my situation sorted out.”

She was still rich in the memories she shared with her grandfather, and she couldn’t let material possessions get in the way of that. In the end, her grandfather showed Alice he loved her while he was alive; she didn’t need anything more than that.

Alice was a hard and determined worker. Her financial troubles came as a result of a failed business due to forces that were beyond her control. She was tirelessly working at getting back on her feet, but it seemed that all her efforts were in vain.

“So, what do you say, guys? Can I stay at the house for a bit? Just until I get my situation sorted out,” Alice asked, sitting across from her brothers at a diner.

“I don’t know, Alice. It seems to me like you might be asking for a lot,” Jake said.

“Yeah. Why don’t you crash at the barn until you’re good,” Ashton said, high-fiving his brother with a cheeky chuckle.

“Okay, okay. All jokes aside. This is what you can do. We’ll let you stay there. You’ll just have to pay rent,” Ashton said impassively.

“Pay rent? What’s the use of moving in there if I’ll be paying rent?” Alice

“I mean, we can try to give you a little family discount,” Jake said.

“It’s a good offer, little sis’,” Ashton added.

“Thank you for nothing, guys. So much for family,” Alice said, getting up and leaving.

“It’s either that or the barn Alice,” Jake yelled, chuckling as he and Ashton high-fived again.

Alice decided she’d go and visit the barn. It had been forever since she was there. At one point, she and her grandfather spent so much time there.

As Alice drove up what used to be the farm’s driveway, she looked at the vast empty grasslands and wondered how things happened to change so quickly. At one point, this was a lively, rich, green farm teeming with crops. And now, just like her grandfather, it was lifeless and no longer there.

Alice pulled up to the barn and walked into it. It was in pretty bad condition. Alice reminisced on back when her grandfather’s farming business was still running.

Alice laughed to herself as she looked around, the memories flooding back. At that moment, it hit her. Her grandfather left her so much more than she could have ever asked for. All the memories, lessons, time, and love shared were more than any material possession he could have given her.

Alice realized that what actually made the barn valuable were the memories shared there. As she looked up to the hayloft, she saw one of her grandfather’s favorite hiding spots. She decided she’d go up and look for him just one last time.

Alice knew she was being a little silly, but it felt right. As she climbed the ladder, it began to shatter, throwing her to the ground and pulling down a part of the hayloft with it.

Alice opened the bag and what was inside left her shocked. Inside the bag were wads of cash with a note on top of it. The note read:

“To my dear, sweet Alice. If you are reading this, then I guess you found me again. I was never good at hide and seek.

I left you this barn so you could rebuild my failed business. Unlike your brothers, I know you dearly loved this farm and me. This is your home. This money I have saved over the years should help you get the farm and business back up. I know you can do it.

Love,

Your grandpapa.”

That year Alice put all her efforts and the money she had been giving into reviving the farm. She bought back the farm, shut down her business, and moved to the farm. After many months of hard work, she finally earned her first earnings.

By the time the next harvest season came around, the farm was famous and highly successful. And when her brother’s heard about it, they were filled with regret. They had never actually taken time to work on the house they had inherited, and by the time they wanted to, it was too late.

What can we learn from this story?

• Greed is not rewarded. Jake and Ashton’s greed ended up coming back to bite them. However, because of Alice’s kind heart, they were not left stranded in the end. She treated them how she wished they would have treated her.
• Don’t let your circumstances determine who you are or will become. Alice could have easily treated her brothers how they had treated her, but she handled the situation with grace and mercy. She could have also easily given up on getting her life back together, but she kept resilient, hoping for better.

Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.

If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a stranger who gives a bag with $1M to a poor girl who lost her dad because he owed her father.

This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.

After Megan’s parents kick her out at eighteen, she turns her back on her family. But one day, she drives back to her childhood home, only to discover that the house is in her name and her parents have been missing. Years later, she drives by again, only this time, she sees the old house decorated for the holidays. Are her parents back?

I was 18, young and terrified, but stubborn enough to stand my ground. I still remember my dad’s voice, the anger almost chilling me to my bones.

“If you leave with him, Megan, don’t bother coming back!” he yelled. “I don’t want to see you again! You’re a mess, and instead of choosing to be better, you’re choosing self-destruction.”

I left anyway.

That same night, my mom stood quietly at the door, her arms wrapped around herself, watching me go. She didn’t say anything; she just let me walk out into the cold.

“That’s it? You’re not going to say anything? Mom, really?” I said.

She opened her mouth for a second. Instead of saying anything, she just went inside and closed the door.

They never forgave me.

But here I am, twenty years later. I’m thirty-eight, with three beautiful kids and a man who’s been by my side through it all. Evan and I were high school sweethearts, and when I got pregnant, I really thought that he was going to leave me.

“But what about your football scholarship to college? You’d give that up?” I asked.

“Of course, I would,” he said. “Let’s do this, Meg. You, me, and the baby!”

Just like that, I decided to tell my parents, which is how my father threw me out.

Despite everything, we built a life. A really good life. And let me tell you, I don’t regret a single thing. Evan works hard, and our kids, Ella, Maya, and Ben, are everything I ever dreamed of.

If you had told my 18-year-old self that I’d still be with him two decades later, I would have laughed through my tears.

Happy.

The last time I visited my parents’ house was five years ago. They had gone missing on a hiking trip in the mountains. It was supposed to be a short getaway, apparently.

Just a weekend.

But they never came back.

“I’m sorry, Megan,” our neighbor, Mr. Smith, said when I went over to ask about my parents. “You really didn’t hear about it? The incident?”

“They went hiking, Megan. You know, the usual long weekend trips that they make? They left the keys here for me to feed the dog. But at the end of the weekend, they didn’t return.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“When they didn’t come back, I reported it to the police, and a search party was sent out. The officers said that all they found were their abandoned backpacks on a cliff,” he sighed.

“No… bodies?” I asked, my voice threatening to break.

As strained as our relationship was, I always expected my parents to be here, at home. For them to always be within those four walls for when I needed them.

And now?… they were gone.

“No, sweetheart,” Mr. Smith said. “No bodies, no footprints, nothing. They were just gone. They vanished without a trace.”

After that, it was all about getting the house signed over to me. I didn’t want to do anything with it, I just wanted to keep it there. I went to the police station and the detective signed off on the case as a cold case.

“Move on, Megan,” he said. “We’ve had no leads in years.”

The issue was proving that I was their daughter, luckily there was a clause in my father’s will, stating that everything would be mine if he and my mother passed.

So, it just stood there, gathering dust and neglect, frozen in time like a ghost of the past I wasn’t ready to confront.

Until tonight.

It was Christmas Eve. And for reasons I couldn’t explain, I found myself driving toward the old place instead of getting the extra butter that Evan and I needed for the turkey the next day.

The house was abandoned and had been for the past five years. As I drove, I imagined exactly how it would look after all these years. I imagined the cracked front windows and the streaks of graffiti across the walls like battle scars.

I imagined the weeds swallowing the flower beds that my mother used to love, and the wooden porch, which was most likely splintered and sagging under the years of neglect.

When I pulled into the driveway, my chest tightened at the sight of the house.

It was decorated.

Not just randomly decorated, but beautifully decorated. The old garlands of twinkling lights my dad used to string along the eaves were glowing softly against the evening sky.

I even recognized the same wooden reindeer we used to set up every December. They were all old and chipped but still standing proudly on the lawn.

My heart raced as I stepped out of the car. How could this be?

Who would have done something like this? No one lived there. No one had for years.

As I walked around, I saw a little generator on the porch. It was hooked up to the lights, fueling them among the rest of the desolate house.

Even if it was just for one night.

I had to know who was behind this. I needed to know if it was real or if it was in my head.

The front door was slightly ajar. I hesitated for a moment, my pulse quick and uneven, before gently pushing it open.

Inside, the house smelled of dust and memories, but the living room…

A Christmas tree stood by the fireplace, just like the ones from my childhood. It was decorated with mismatched ornaments and too many strands of tinsel. The stockings were hung on the mantel, and beneath the tree were a few wrapped presents, tied with fraying ribbons.

And then I saw him.

A figure sat in front of the fireplace, hunched slightly, silhouetted by the glow of the dying fire.

I couldn’t stop myself. The word slipped from my lips before I could think.

“Dad?” I called.

It wasn’t my dad.

It was a young man in his mid-thirties, I think. His dark hair was tousled, and his face was shadowed by exhaustion. He wore a threadbare coat, and his cheeks were pink from the cold.

But as soon as I saw him, I knew exactly who he was.

“Max?” I whispered.

His eyes widened, and a small, embarrassed smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You remember me? Megan?”

Of course, I remembered him.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

Max glanced around the room.

“I’ve been staying here. Just for the winters, Megan,” he admitted. “It’s the second year now.”

I stared at him.

“Why?”

“I don’t really have anywhere else to go,” he said, holding his head.

“Max, are you homeless?” I asked.

He gave a small nod.

“Yeah,” he said. “My adoptive parents, the Smiths? They kicked me out, actually. It was after you came around about ten years ago, and my dad told you about your parents. I’ve had some rotten luck, and I guess they just didn’t want to care for me anymore. It’s hard, you know? Finding work. I was between friends for a while… but even they got tired.”

My chest tightened at his words.

He glanced around the room, a smile playing on his lips.

We were both quiet for a while.

“Why didn’t you get rid of the place?” he asked me.

“I don’t have any good answers,” I said. “I just wanted to keep it the way it was.”

Max nodded.

Something broke inside me at that moment. I had been through everything Max had just described.

“Come home with me,” I said. “Nobody should spend Christmas alone. And anyway, I have three kids who will need distracting from the pile of Christmas presents at home.”

Max’s eyes widened, and for a second, he looked like that same little boy from all those years ago, the one who had been desperate for someone to care.

Now, sitting in my living room, watching my kids get to know someone from my past, I realize what I need to do.

I put my cup of hot chocolate down on the coffee table. I was getting excited.

I don’t know if my parents would approve of the plan, but it doesn’t matter. That house doesn’t belong to their memory anymore. It’s time to give it a new purpose.

And who knows? Maybe the money we make from it will go toward Ella, Maya, or Ben’s college fund someday.

If you’ve enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |

I Dropped My Naughty Kids at My Parents’ Home — I Was Shocked When They Were Good as Gold When I Picked Them Up

When Cara and her husband get an invitation to an adult-only party, they welcome the break from being parents of three for a few hours. Thankfully, her parents are ready to save the day and babysit the kids. But when Cara and Jason go back to fetch the kids, they’re shocked with the change in their behavior.

“Are you sure that the kids will be okay?” my husband, Jason, asked me as I went through my closet trying to find something to wear.

“Yes!” I exclaimed. “They will be absolutely fine with my parents.”

“It’s just that you know how they can be,” Jason said. “The kids, not your parents. They’re a handful.”

“They’ll be fine,” I repeated.

Read the full story here.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.