Boy Drops a Letter into an Abandoned House’s Mailbox, Receives a Mysterious Reply the Next Day — Story of the Day

Six-year-old Ethan had recently lost his mother, leaving a deep void in his heart. In his grief, he started writing letters to her, pouring out his feelings on paper. One day, while wandering the streets, he stumbled upon an old, rusty mailbox at an abandoned house. He decided to slip one of his letters inside, never expecting anyone to see it. To his astonishment, the very next day, he found a mysterious reply waiting for him.

Ethan, a six-year-old little boy with curly brown hair, felt a constant weight on his chest since his mother passed away. His father, Jacob, seemed lost in his world of grief.

Jacob used to be a lively and attentive father, but now he barely noticed Ethan, spending most of his time staring at old photos or working late to avoid the empty house.

“Mom, I miss you so much,” Ethan whispered to his toy car.

He often imagined his mother traveling with him in the little car.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Ethan missed her gentle voice, warm hugs, and reading bedtime stories with her every night. In his loneliness, he began writing letters to her.

“Dear Mom,

Today was another hard day without you. I miss you so much. Dad is really sad too. I don’t think he notices me much anymore. I wish you were here to hug me and tell me everything will be okay.

Love, Ethan”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

He poured his heart into those letters and hoped she would hear him.

One day, while wandering around his neighborhood, Ethan stumbled upon an old, abandoned house. The paint was peeling, the windows were boarded up, and the garden was overgrown with weeds.

“Hey, Mom,” Ethan said to his toy car, “look at this old house. It’s kind of spooky but also cool, right?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

He walked closer, curiosity driving him.

Ethan saw the rusty mailbox at the front gate. That day, he had brought one of his letters with him, tucked safely in his jeans pocket, intending to read it to his mom in a quiet spot. Ethan just slipped it inside the mailbox, thinking no one would ever see him.

“Mom, I’m leaving this letter here,” he whispered. “It will be our secret.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

He took a step back and looked at the house again.

“Do you think anyone lives here?” he asked his car, imagining his mother’s voice answering. “Probably not, but it’s a good place for my letter.”

Ethan stood there for a moment longer, feeling a bit silly but also comforted by the act.

“Okay, let’s go home now,” he said to the car. “Maybe we’ll come back tomorrow.”

As he walked home, his mind wandered to thoughts of his mother, picturing her reading his letter and smiling.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“I hope you like my letters, Mom,” he whispered, clutching the toy car even tighter. “I’ll keep writing them, I promise.”

When he reached his house, his dad was still sitting at the table in the living room. Ethan paused at the doorway, watching his father for a moment.

“Dad,” he said quietly, but Jacob didn’t respond. Sighing, Ethan headed to his room, pulling out another piece of paper to write another letter to his mom.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Dear Mom,” he began, “I found a new place to leave my letters for you. It’s an old, abandoned house, and it feels like a special spot just for us…”

As he wrote, he felt the sadness lifting just a little, finding solace in the connection created, even if it was only in his imagination.

“Goodnight, Mom,” he whispered to the toy car on his bedside table before drifting off to sleep.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

***

The next day, Ethan felt a strange urge to visit the abandoned house again. He wanted to leave his new letter in that mailbox.

As he approached the gate, he noticed something different. The mailbox was slightly open. Ethan’s heart raced as he looked around.

Inside, he found a folded piece of paper. It was a letter addressed to … him. He unfolded it and began to read.

“Dear Ethan,” it started. “Thank you for sharing your beautiful words. Your letters have touched my heart. Please don’t stop writing. With love, Clara.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Ethan was so absorbed in the letter that he didn’t hear the front door of the house creak open. A woman stepped out quietly.

She was older, with silver hair and kind, but sad eyes. She watched Ethan read her letter, a gentle smile forming on her face.

Suddenly, Ethan felt a presence and looked up, startled. He nearly dropped the letter.

“Oh! I’m sorry!” he exclaimed, taking a step back. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

The woman held up her hand in a calming gesture. “It’s alright, dear,” she said softly. “I’m Clara. I’ve been reading your letter.”

Ethan blinked in surprise. “You…you read them?”

Clara nodded. “Yes, and they’ve brought me a lot of comfort. Your letter reminded me of my own son. I lost my family years ago.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“I miss my mom so much,” Ethan said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Clara stepped closer, her eyes filled with empathy.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“I know, Ethan. Grief is a heavy burden to carry. But sharing your feelings, even through letters, can help lighten that load.”

A loud, angry voice interrupted them just then, “Clara!”

A tall, stern-looking man marched towards them. “It’s time you left, Clara,” Mr. Harrow said harshly. “You’ve had enough time to grieve. This house belonged to my brother, and now it’s mine.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Clara stood her ground, her eyes blazing. “There was no will, Mr. Harrow. My husband died young, along with our son. Your so-called will is a forgery!”

Mr. Harrow sneered, “You have no choice. I’m taking the house. You’ve overstayed your welcome.”

As Ethan stepped forward, trying to understand the situation, Mr. Harrow finally noticed him. “And who is this? Why are kids wandering around my property?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Ethan, clutching his letter, stammered, “I…I was just leaving a letter for my mom…”

Mr. Harrow’s eyes narrowed, “Letter? What letter?”

He snatched the letter from Ethan’s hands and started tearing it up. “You’re littering this place with your trash!”

Ethan’s heart broke as he saw pieces of his letters flutter to the grass. He watched helplessly as Mr. Harrow destroyed his heartfelt messages.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Then Clara stepped forward and said, “How could you do that? He’s just a child, grieving his mother.”

But Ethan already run away, his mind racing.

“Why was Mr. Harrow so mean? And why did he want to remove Clara from her house? She seems so nice,” he whispered to his toy car as he ran. “Mom, what should I do?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

He knew he had to do something, but he wasn’t sure what. All he knew was that he couldn’t let Mr. Harrow win. Clara needed help, and maybe, just maybe, his father could provide it.

Breathless, Ethan clutched his toy car tighter, “I won’t let him hurt Clara, Mom. I promise I’ll help her.”

***

Distraught, Ethan burst through the front door, tears streaming down his face.

“Dad! Dad, I need your help!” he shouted, rushing into the kitchen where Jacob was sitting.

Jacob looked up, startled, “Ethan, what’s wrong?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“It’s Mr. Harrow! He wants to kick Clara out of her house! He tore up my letters, Dad. We have to help her!” Ethan pleaded.

Jacob sighed and rubbed his temples, clearly confused.

“Ethan, calm down. I don’t understand. Who is Mr. Harrow? Who is Clara? And what letters are you talking about?”

Ethan continued to cry out, his words slurred, “Clara.. abandoned … letters .. for Mom! Mr. Harrow! Tore them up!”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Jacob didn’t want to deal with the situation and tried to calm Ethan down.

“Ethan, stop shouting. This isn’t our problem. You shouldn’t be getting involved in things that don’t concern you.”

Ethan was still in a panic and didn’t calm down. He continued to cry and plead with his father.

Jacob was frustrated and did not fully understand the situation. He took the torn pieces of the letters from Ethan’s hands. “That’s enough, Ethan. You need to go to your room and think about your behavior.”

Ethan felt utterly helpless, and ran out of the house, slamming the door behind him. His heart pounded as he ran towards the police station, determined to find someone who would listen and help Clara.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

***

When Ethan arrived at the station, which was on the next street, he breathlessly explained everything to the officer at the desk, hoping they would take action.

“Officer, please, you have to help! Mr. Harrow is trying to kick Clara out of her house! He tore up my letters, and he’s being so mean!” Ethan exclaimed, tears streaming down his face.

The officer listened patiently, nodding as Ethan spoke.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Calm down, son,” he said gently. “I understand you’re upset, but Mr. Harrow has already informed us about this. He’s claiming the house is rightfully his.”

Ethan’s eyes widened in disbelief. “But Clara lives there! It’s her home!”

The officer sighed and continued, “The problem is, Clara doesn’t have any documents to prove ownership of the house. She mentioned she lost them. Without those papers, there’s not much we can do.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Ethan felt a lump in his throat, “But that’s not fair! She’s lived there for so long! You have to help her!”

The officer shook his head sympathetically. “I’m sorry, Ethan. I know this is hard for you to understand, but without those documents, Mr. Harrow has the legal right to the property. It’s best if you go home now. I’ll walk you back.”

Feeling defeated, Ethan nodded slowly.

“Okay,” he whispered, his voice trembling. The officer took Ethan’s hand and guided him out of the station.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

***

When they arrived at his house, a worried Jacob had just returned home.

“Ethan, where have you been?” he demanded. “I’ve been searching for you at all the neighbors’ houses.”

Ethan looked down, “I went to the police, Dad. I thought they could help.”

Jacob sighed deeply and pulled Ethan into a hug, “I’m not mad, Ethan. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Jacob glanced at the letters on the kitchen table, the ones he had found when Ethan ran away. He had read a few of them and realized how much empathy and love Ethan had in his heart and how little attention he had been giving to his son’s feelings and struggles.

After a long moment of silence, Jacob made a decision.

“Alright, Ethan. Let’s go talk to Clara. She can stay with us until we figure this out.”

Ethan’s eyes lit up with hope. “Really, Dad?”

Jacob nodded, a small smile on his face, “Yes, really. Let’s go help her.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Father and son walked back to Clara’s house together, ready to offer her the shelter and support she needed.

Little did they know, Mr. Harrow, hidden in the shadows, was watching them with narrowed eyes, already plotting his next move to reclaim the property. He had no intention of backing down.

***

Clara, Jacob, and Ethan began living together. The three of them quickly formed a close bond.

Every morning, Clara prepared breakfast while humming a cheerful tune. Her delicious cooking and the flowers she planted in the garden brought life back into the house.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Ethan, come help me plant these flowers,” Clara called out one sunny afternoon.

Ethan ran over, excited, “What kind are they, Clara?”

“These are marigolds. They’ll add a beautiful splash of color to the garden,” she replied, handing him a small shovel.

As they worked together, Ethan chatted away, pretending to talk to his toy car. “Mom, look at these flowers! Aren’t they pretty?” he whispered, imagining his mother was there with him.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Jacob watched from the kitchen window, a small smile on his face. Clara’s presence had a calming effect on him. He found himself smiling more and even started joining Ethan and Clara for activities.

“Jacob, dinner’s ready!” Clara called out one evening.

Jacob came to the table, the aroma of Clara’s home-cooked meal filling the room. “Smells wonderful, Clara. Thank you.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Ethan chimed in, “Yeah, Clara, you’re the best cook ever!”

Clara laughed, a warm, hearty sound, “Thank you, Ethan. I love cooking for you both.”

After dinner, Clara and Ethan settled on the couch with a book of fairy tales.

“Once upon a time,” Clara began, and Ethan snuggled closer, listening intently. These moments became a cherished part of their daily routine. Ethan’s sadness began to lift, bit by bit, replaced by the warmth of Clara’s love and stories.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

A few months passed quickly. The legal situation with Clara’s house was resolved in her favor. The ownership documents were found in the registry, proving her rightful claim to the house. Mr. Harrow’s will was confirmed to be a forgery, and he received only a verbal warning to stay away from Clara, as she chose not to press charges against him.

Jacob and Ethan went with Clara to her house, carrying a mix of hope and sadness.

“I don’t want you to go, Clara,” Ethan said, his voice trembling.

Jacob placed a hand on Ethan’s shoulder. “We can still visit, Ethan.”

When they arrived, they were shocked to see the destruction. Mr. Harrow had demolished half of it with the help of hired workers and a crane.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Clara’s eyes filled with tears. “How could he do this?”

Ethan looked up at his father, his eyes pleading, “Dad, we have to do something.”

Jacob’s face hardened,. “We will, Ethan. I promise.” He turned to Clara. “I’m going to personally sue Mr. Harrow for this. He won’t get away with it.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Clara nodded, wiping her tears. “Thank you, Jacob.”

Jacob looked at Ethan, then back at Clara.

“You’ll stay with us. We’ll all work together to fix up your home. You’ve become a dear person to both of us, Clara.”

Then Ethan gave Clara his toy car. “You’re part of our family now,” he said, offering it as a sign of trust and acceptance. It was the most precious thing he had, symbolizing how much she meant to him and how she had become an important part of their lives.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Clara’s eyes softened as she hugged Ethan back. “Thank you, Ethan. Thank you, Jacob. You’ve both given me a second chance at happiness.”

Together, they headed back home, ready to face the challenges ahead. The bond they had formed was strong, and they knew that together, they could overcome anything.

As they walked, Ethan held his toy car close and whispered, “Mom, Clara is staying with us. She makes me happy, and I think you would like her too.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

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

If you enjoyed this story, read this one: Chloe found her foster daughter, Alicia, covered in oil paint at home. She knew Alicia had been at Orin’s studio. Orin, their neighbor, was an artist in his fifties, and Chloe was in love with him. To stop Alicia from making a big mistake, Chloe was ready to reveal an old family secret. Read the full story here.

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 Yelled ‘I Don’t!’ at My Own Wedding after Conversation with Groom’s Mother Whose Plan Almost Worked Out

After a chance encounter and years of dating, Ryan and Hanna are about to walk down the aisle and commit to each other. But when Ryan’s mother reveals an incriminating video of Ryan with another woman, Hanna feels her heartbreak. But later, the truth of the video is revealed, along with more deceit than Hanna ever expected.

Do parents just enjoy dropping bombshells before weddings? When I say before—I mean 30 minutes before?

Because that’s exactly what Ryan’s mother did.

Ryan and I met two years ago—it was one of those by-chance meetings. I was at the community theatre because one of my friends, Mila, was in the local musical with her directorial debut.

So, there I was, standing outside after the performance, holding a bouquet of flowers for Mila. Ryan walked out, and because of the crowd, walked directly into me, crushing the flowers.

“I am so sorry,” he said, picking up the bouquet.

“I hate crowds,” I said.

He chuckled and gestured for us to move away from the door.

“I’m not a fan either,” he said. “I’m Ryan.”

“Hanna,” I said, introducing myself.

Just three months into our romance, Ryan proposed in a pub while drinking Guinness and eating crispy potato skins.

Last week, we should have sealed that promise with our wedding vows. But our wedding went in the complete opposite direction it should have gone.

Initially, my family welcomed Ryan with open arms. As the only daughter, my parents were thrilled that I had met someone who genuinely made me happy.

“This is a different side to you, Hanna,” my mother said one evening when we had Ryan over for family dinner.

“He makes her happy,” my father said, smiling. “That’s all a father could want.”

Ryan felt welcome—he felt the warmth that they showered him, and through that, we grew stronger as a couple, too.

On his side, it was more or less the same thing. The Coles opened their home and hearts to me, and they wanted nothing more than to have us over as much as possible. Mrs. Cole, Audrey, had gotten into a coffee date and manicure routine with me, too.

Everything felt right—until the very moment it wasn’t.

Leading up to our wedding, I was the calmest I could have been. It was a small church wedding, and Ryan and I had planned the intimate affair right down to the little details. We knew exactly what we wanted and how to make it special for our day.

But on what was meant to be the happiest day of my life, just before the ceremony, my soon-to-be mother-in-law pulled me aside.

“Darling,” she said. “Can we chat for a moment?”

I nodded and told her to wait until my glam team was done with my hair and makeup.

Something about her demeanor made me feel anxious and nervous. I watched her movements from my reflection in the mirror.

Her eyes moved around the room quickly, often settling on my wedding dress hanging from its hook.

When I was ready, and my mother was buttoning up my dress, I turned to Audrey.

“I’m ready when you are,” I said, smiling at her.

Her eyes glazed over, seeing me in the dress. She had been at my fittings before, but this was the moment that Audrey and my mother would see the full effect of my bridal outfit.

“Hanna,” Audrey said. “There’s no easy way for me to say this.”

My heart thundered in my chest. While my hair was being done, and I sat watching her, I knew that nothing good was going to come from our conversation.

“Just say it,” I said. “Tell me.”

Audrey pulled her phone out of her clutch and held it out for me.

“There are videos on this phone that will explain everything. I am so sorry, Hanna, but Ryan needs to be caught out.”

My mind raced. I couldn’t fathom what I was about to see once her phone was unlocked.

“Here,” she said, handing me her phone as a woman’s voice echoed through the room.

The videos on Audrey’s phone revealed Ryan with another woman, in clandestine affection, undeniable betrayal.

“Are you sure?” I asked. “This is him?”

Audrey closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“Well, look at the jacket on the bed,” she said. “Isn’t that the one you got him?”

I pressed play again, and looked at the jacket. The hotel room also looked familiar—I was so sure that we had been there before.

“But Ryan’s face isn’t in the frame,” I said.

I was struggling. I couldn’t believe that my almost mother-in-law was standing in front of me with a video showing her son’s affair.

“Hanna,” she said slowly. “It’s right in front of you. You can choose to overlook it, but think of the man that you would be marrying if you choose to ignore it. Could you live with yourself knowing that? Could you live with him?”

I shook my head. I wanted to cry because of how overwhelmed I was.

“Fine,” I said.

“You’re calling off the wedding?” Audrey asked, hope lining her voice.

“No,” I said. “I’m going to walk down that aisle. I’m going to walk to the man who has been unfaithful to me. And when the time comes for our vows, I’ll break it off then.”

“Okay, dear,” Audrey said, putting her phone back into her bag. “It’s almost time now, anyway.”

I sat down on the chaise, and waited for my father to come and get me when it was time to marry Ryan. I wanted nothing more than to get into a car and drive away to some place where I could eat my feelings in a mountain of fries.

My heart violently pounded with fury as I approached the altar on my father’s arm. Ryan, aware of the storm brewing beneath my skin, smiled tenderly at me. He took my hand and squeezed it.

It would have been absolutely perfect, except for the fact that he had been with someone else.

Our priest went on to quote scripture about love and matrimony from the Bible. And when it was time for our vows, my heart quietened down—finally realizing what was about to come.

“I don’t,” I said softly, more to the ground than to Ryan.

“Speak louder, Hanna,” the priest said.

“I don’t!” I said more confidently, the words echoing like a resounding shockwave.

Ryan’s shock morphed into confusion as I repeated those two words again.

“Hanna? What?” he asked, hurt and betrayal deep in his voice.

“Ask your mom,” I said, pointing at Audrey. “Mrs. Cole, please tell everyone what you told me earlier.”

The church hushed immediately, as if everyone were holding their breath. With shaking hands, she opened her bag and took out her phone. Like earlier, she held it out to me.

“Look,” I said to Ryan.

Ryan took a step back, almost falling over the wedding arch.

“That is not me, Hanna!” he said loudly. “Hanna, you know it’s not me!”

I refused to look him in the eye.

Then he confronted his mother.

“Mom, what is all this? What is that? Where did you get that video?”

Audrey shook her head and walked down the aisle, leaving the church in silence.

I could not bear to hear Ryan’s excuses.

“Hanna, please,” he said. “I need you to believe me.”

And I wanted to. Of course, I wanted to believe the man I loved. But it was clear, the jacket that I bought him lay across the bed in the video. He had been with someone else.

And if there was the possibility that he wasn’t with another person—how would he explain the video? And the woman who was barely dressed? And the sound effects?

“I can’t do this,” I said. “I won’t.”

I ran out of the side door, my parents following closely behind.

Ryan continued to reach out to me for the rest of the day—and when night settled, I finally blocked his number.

Yet, two days later, when I was wrapped in a blanket wondering where everything had gone wrong—Ryan showed up at my parents’ house with takeout and flowers.

“You expect this to fix everything?” I asked.

“I need to talk,” he said simply.

Against my better judgment, I listened.

What Ryan revealed next sent me down another spiral.

He had confronted Audrey after the wedding.

“I went straight to her house,” he said. “She was sitting there, in her kitchen, eating toast and listening to old records as though she hadn’t just ruined our wedding.”

“I think you did that,” I blurted out.

“Hanna,” he warned. “My mother orchestrated that video. The people in it are her students. And it was all because she didn’t want us to get married.”

My jaw hit the ground.

Audrey was a high school teacher—but she also tutored first-year college kids in English. So, when it truly came down to the fact that Ryan and I were actually getting married, she panicked. She called two of her college students, who were too eager to make a bit of extra money, to play the part.

“I thought she liked me,” I said while digging into the food Ryan had brought over. “Clearly she doesn’t if she put an entire video together.”

“She did say that the sounds were edited,” Ryan chuckled nervously. “But I’ve got to hand it to her, adding my jacket was a good touch.”

I didn’t understand how I felt. For the past two days, since walking away from my own wedding—I convinced myself that Ryan had been the bad guy in my story. That he was the villain who broke my heart, while his mother exposed him for who he was.

And yet, the reality was so much worse.

Here was a woman who had claimed me as the daughter she never had, only to break my heart before marrying her son.

She believed I was unworthy of Ryan.

I forgave Ryan immediately, and he did the same in return—I did accuse him of cheating on me in front of all our guests.

We’re still together, but I don’t know what the future holds. For now, I feel hurt and betrayed by Audrey. And I know that forgiveness will be difficult to come by for her.

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