A man battling the grief of losing his family adopts a girl with Down syndrome and gives her a loving home. Nine years later, he gets a call from a stranger and finds out the girl he adopted is a millionaire.
It was a beautiful, sunny day, and birds were chirping merrily in the skies. Nothing seemed wrong with the world outside. But for 33-year-old Brian, it was the darkest day of his life.
Brian’s loving wife, Lyra, and his only daughter, Amy, were killed in a car accident that morning. He shuddered as he rushed to the police station for identification and saw their pale faces hidden beneath thin white covers. How could God be so cruel? How could he take his family away from him?
As they were buried, Brian felt like someone had drained out the blood in his body. He couldn’t take his eyes away from the fresh mounds of Earth beneath which his wife and daughter lay, and at one point, he wished he was the one there, not them.
After losing Lyra and Amy, Brian felt his life had lost meaning. “Brian, you can’t be stuck like that. You’re young, and you have a whole life ahead of you. The living should live on,” his mom told him one day.
“Mr. Hoffman,” said the lawyer. “Trust me. You’d like to come to my office for this. There is someone you’d like to meet.”
It had been five years since Brian lost his family, but for him, it still seemed like it was only yesterday when he’d seen his wife and daughter’s pale faces. How could he move on? How could he forget that the people he loved the most were no longer with him? It wasn’t easy for him.
One day, Brian returned from work and went about his tedious routine. He sat at his desk, checking reports and completing his office work like he always did. His work kept him occupied and distracted him from his sad thoughts.
He switched the browser tab to his Facebook account, and a post about a little girl with Down syndrome suddenly appeared. Brian would have missed it if it hadn’t been for the message on the post: “…Rejected by 15 families, and yearning for a loving home. Andrea is a lovely girl with special needs and wishes for a family.”
Brian sighed and stared at the post for a few minutes. He needed a family, and so did she. Life had been cruel to both of them in different ways, and perhaps this was God’s way of finally relieving him of pain.
Brian thought about the Facebook post all night, and he wondered if she should adopt the girl. As a single father, he knew the process would be difficult, but this girl really needed a loving home, and he knew he could give her that.
“All right then,” he told himself. “I’ll try.”
The next day, Brian called the number in the Facebook post and expressed his eagerness to adopt Andrea. The woman on the other end provided him with the contact information of the social worker in charge of Andrea’s case.
A few days later, Brian saw little Andrea for the first time, and his eyes welled up. She was a lovely little girl of six, dressed in a blue floral frock and staring at him with puzzled eyes.
Sadly, she was abandoned by her single mother because of her disability. “How sad,” Brian thought to himself as she entered the room.
“Hi, Andrea,” Brian told her gently. “I’m Brian. I’m here to become your parent. Would you like to have me as your dad?”
Andrea didn’t say anything, but she smiled and nodded at him. At that moment, Brian knew he would do anything to provide her with a loving home. And he did just that.
After the exhaustive documentation process, background verification, and parenting workshops, Brian was officially Andrea’s adoptive father and his life found new meaning. They were so happy with each other, so delighted. He was happy to become a father to a little girl again, and he couldn’t have wished for more.
They celebrated her birthdays together, and Brian’s parents loved Andrea too. He tried to be the best dad to her and ensured she never missed out on anything just because she was different from other children.
Brian didn’t even realize when Andrea turned 15 years old. Nine years passed so fast, but he felt as if he had brought his little girl home only yesterday. He was so happy with the turn his life had taken.
But a few months later, things started to get tough. Due to issues at work, Brian lost his job and had to hunt for a new one. He lived off his savings while searching for a job, which proved harder than he thought.
Eventually, things got to the point where he didn’t have enough money for basic necessities. He had to move to a smaller house and was struggling to make ends meet. But one day, help appeared out of nowhere.
Brian received a call from a man claiming to be Andrea’s mother’s lawyer.
“Yeah, so? What do you have to do with my child now?” Brian said angrily. “That woman abandoned my daughter right after birth, and you think I’d be willing to talk to you now?”
“Mr. Hoffman,” said the lawyer. “Trust me. You’d like to come to my office for this. As Andrea’s legal guardian, you will be receiving her mother’s million-dollar legacy on her behalf. And there is someone you should also meet. I’ll send you all the information following the call. I hope to see you this Friday,” he said and hung up.
Brian was understandably shocked. Why did Andrea’s mother leave her such a sizable inheritance if she wanted nothing to do with her child?
That Friday, Brian visited the lawyer’s office and met an old man there who turned out to be Andrea’s grandfather. He said he had no idea about his granddaughter until his daughter was on her deathbed, taking her last breath.
“Andrea,” she’d whispered, as she took his hand in hers. “Her name is Andrea…”
“I’ve missed out on so many years with my granddaughter,” he told Brian sadly. “I’d like to be there for her. I know you took her in legally, but I just want to be there for my grandchild. My daughter regretted abandoning her child in her final days… She was aware of her blunder, which is why she left her assets to her.”
Brian was more than happy to know Andrea had a family. In fact, he didn’t want to separate a granddaughter from her grandad.
Brian would soon take Andrea to her grandfather’s house regularly, so they could spend time together. And with the inheritance money, he paid off his debts and moved into a larger home while saving a considerable amount for Andrea’s future studies.
When he would visit Andrea’s mother’s grave sometimes, he felt a sense of relief in his heart. It made him believe she is content that her daughter had a good life and a loving home.
What can we learn from this story?
The ones who can give love always receive love. Brian was shattered after losing his family, but he still had a lot of love left in his heart. He gave that love to little Andrea, who returned it and became his new family.
You establish a family through love, not necessarily through blood. While Andrea’s biological mother abandoned her shortly after birth, Brian took her in and raised her with love.
Man Rented His Apartment to a Sweet Old Couple – When They Moved Out, He Was Shocked By What He Found Inside
Man Rented His Apartment to a Sweet Old Couple – When They Moved Out, He Was Shocked By What He Found Inside
When I first rented my apartment to Hans and Greta, a sweet old couple with warm smiles and charming accents, I thought I’d found the perfect tenants. But when they moved out, I was plunged into a mystery that would shatter my trust and lead to an unbelievable twist.
Hans and Greta seemed like the sweetest couple I had ever encountered. Late seventies, gentle manners, and warm smiles that could melt the coldest heart.
Hans had a neat silver mustache that twitched when he laughed, and Greta had this kind, motherly demeanor. They spoke with curious accents that I couldn’t quite place, a mix of something European and quaint.
A happy elderly couple in the kitchen | Source: Pexels
“I hope this apartment will be just right for you,” I said as I showed them around.
“It’s perfect,” Greta replied with a smile. “Just like home.”
They moved in smoothly, and for the entire year they stayed, there were no issues at all. They paid their rent on time, kept the place immaculate, and even left little thank-you notes when I came to check on the property.
A handsome apartment with wood floors | Source: Pexels
They’d often invite me in for tea, regaling me with stories of their adventures back in the days when they were young. It was hard to imagine a more ideal scenario.
“Thank you so much for letting us stay here, Mark,” Hans said one afternoon. “You’ve been a wonderful landlord.”
“You two have been the best tenants. If only everyone was like you,” I replied, sipping the tea Greta had made. It was chamomile, fragrant and soothing.
An elderly couple enjoying warm drinks | Source: Pexels
“Do you remember the time we got lost in the Black Forest?” Greta asked Hans, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
“Oh yes, that was quite the adventure!” Hans laughed. “We were young and foolish, thought we could navigate without a map.”
“Ended up spending the night in a shepherd’s hut,” Greta added, shaking her head.
However, as their lease neared its end, something strange happened. Hans and Greta, usually so calm and measured, seemed to be in a rush to move out.
Household contents being packed into boxes | Source: Pexels
They were always in a hurry, packing boxes and arranging things in a frenzy. When I asked if everything was okay, they assured me with those same warm smiles that everything was fine.
“Just some family matters,” Greta explained. “Nothing to worry about.”
“Are you sure? You both seem quite frantic,” I pressed, concerned.
Packed items being carried down stairs | Source: Pexels
“It’s all good, Mark. Just some urgent family issues. We’ll miss this place, though,” Hans said, patting my shoulder reassuringly.
The day they moved out, they handed me the keys with an extra firm handshake and an apology for their sudden departure. I wished them well, feeling a bit sad to see them go.
“Thank you for everything, Mark. We hope to see you again someday,” Greta said, giving me a gentle hug.
“Take care, both of you,” I replied, waving as they left.
A hand bearing a bunch of keys | Source: Pexels
The next day, I went to inspect the apartment, expecting to find it in the same pristine condition they had kept it. I unlocked the door and stepped inside, but what I saw made me gasp in shock.
There was no floor. The hardwood planks that had been there were completely gone, leaving only the bare concrete underneath. I stood there, stunned, trying to process what had happened.
“Where the hell is the floor?” I muttered to myself, pacing around the empty rooms.
A room with its floored stripped out | Source: Pexels
I took out my phone, snapped a photo of the empty floor, and sent them a text.
“What happened to the floor?” I asked, attaching the photo.
A few minutes later, my phone buzzed with a reply. It was from Hans.
A man studying his cell phone | Source: Pexels
“Oh dear, we are so sorry for the confusion! In the Netherlands, it is a tradition to take the floor with you when you move out. We assumed it was the same here. We were in such a rush because our granddaughter had just given birth and needed our help with the baby, and we didn’t have time to explain. We hope this hasn’t caused too much trouble. Please let us make it up to you. Come visit us in the Netherlands, and we will show you our beautiful country. With love, Hans and Greta.”
A man looking out the window, phone in hand | Source: Pexels
I read the message a couple of times, my disbelief slowly turning into a surprised grin. It was such a peculiar tradition, but it did make sense of everything. They hadn’t intended any harm; they were just adhering to a custom from their country.
The urgency in their departure was as sincere and heartfelt as they had always seemed, or so I thought.
I chuckled and replied, “I appreciate the explanation. I’ll need to replace the floor here, but no hard feelings. Maybe I will take you up on that offer to visit. Best wishes to you and your family.”
But something nagged at me. A tradition to take the floor, really? I decided to investigate further. I contacted a friend who was a private investigator and told him the whole story. He agreed to look into it.
A man inspecting documents with a magnifying glass | Source: Pexels
A week later, he called me with some shocking news.
“Mark, you won’t believe this,” he said. “Hans and Greta aren’t who they claimed to be. They’re part of a sophisticated scam targeting landlords, stealing valuable items and leaving with the impression of an innocent mistake. Those floorboards? They’re worth a small fortune.”
“What?” I retorted. “How could they do this? I checked their credentials thoroughly, everything was above board. They had valid residential visas, good credit histories, and no criminal records.”
A man listening on headphones | Source: Pexels
“They’re professionals,” my friend continued. “They move from city to city, targeting kind-hearted landlords like you. Their M.O. involves taking high-value items that can be easily sold.”
I was stunned. “I can’t believe it. They seemed so genuine, so… kind.”
“That’s how they get you,” he said. “They build trust and then take advantage of it.”
An outdoor antique market | Source: Freepik
“We’ve tracked them down,” my friend continued. “They’re planning to sell the stolen floorboards at a high-end antique market. We can set up a sting operation to catch them in the act.”
“Let’s do it,” I said, determined to see justice served.
The plan was simple. We’d catch them in the act of selling the stolen wood. My friend, posing as a buyer, approached Hans and Greta, who were busy setting up their stall with various antique items, including my floorboards.
Two men shake hands in introduction | Source: Pexels
“Excuse me,” my friend said. “I’m interested in those floorboards. They look exquisite.”
Hans smiled. “Ah, yes. Fine Dutch craftsmanship. We know because we are from the Netherlands ourselves. This is very rare, very valuable timber.”
“How much are you asking?” my friend inquired.
“For you, a special price,” Hans replied, naming a figure that made my P.I. friend’s eyes widen in surprise.
Police officers making an arrest | Source: Pexels
As the transaction was about to go through, police officers moved in, as coordinated, surrounding the stall.
“Hands up! You’re under arrest for theft and fraud,” one officer barked.
Hans and Greta looked shocked but didn’t resist as they were handcuffed and led away. I watched from a distance, feeling satisfied, but also sorrowful. How could I have misjudged the character of these people so spectacularly?
The floorboards were recovered, and they turned out to be imported wood worth a fortune. In the weeks that followed, I had the floor replaced, and life returned to normal. But I often thought about Hans and Greta, the weird, invented tradition they had conned me with, and also their seemingly unwavering kindness.
Strips of wood in a pile | Source: Pexels
A month later, I received a letter. It was from the real Hans and Greta in the Netherlands. They had had their identities stolen by the criminal gang, who had hired imposters to pose as them. They had been contacted by Interpol and made aware of the crime.
They invited me to visit the Netherlands and experience their genuine hospitality. “Dear Mark, we are so sorry for what happened. We hope you can find it in your heart to visit us and see the real Netherlands and meet its true people. With love, Hans and Greta.”
I sat back, letter in hand, contemplating the experience. Trust is a fragile thing, I thought, but also incredibly powerful when placed in the right people. Maybe one day, I would visit the real Hans and Greta and rebuild my faith in trust and humanity.
A man reading a letter | Source: Pexels
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