When Ellie’s family returns from their Christmas getaway, they’re shocked to find their house egged and a cryptic note left behind. Determined to uncover the culprit, Ellie checks the security footage, only to discover the vandal is someone very close to her. Confronting the person reveals years of hurt and manipulation that nearly tears their bond apart. Can Ellie handle it?
Christmas has always been about family. That’s why, for the last four years, my husband Ethan, our seven-year-old daughter Maddie, our five-year-old son Noah, and I had made it a tradition to escape to the islands.
Just the four of us, basking in the sun, recharging before the whirlwind of holiday dinners and social obligations hit.
Two children at the beach | Source: Midjourney
And this year was no different. Or so I thought.
When we pulled into our driveway after the trip, I froze.
Our house looked like a crime scene.
Raw eggs dripped from the walls in sticky streams, the porch was littered with broken shells, and even the holiday wreath I’d lovingly crafted was a splattered, smelly mess.
A house covered in eggs | Source: AmoMama
“What the hell?” Ethan muttered, stepping out of the car, Noah on his heels.
“Mom, what happened?” Maddie asked from the backseat.
“I don’t know, sweetheart,” I said, feeling a knot tighten in my chest.
Noah crouched beside the mess.
A little girl sitting in a car | Source: Midjourney
“Could a bird do this, Dad?” he asked.
I tried to keep calm for the kids, but inside, I was fuming.
Who would do this?
We were good neighbors — no, we were great neighbors! I baked cookies for new families, helped organize block parties, and I never turned down a chance to lend a hand.
This wasn’t random vandalism. It was targeted. It had to be.
A plate of cookies | Source: Midjourney
Then Ethan found the note. It was stuffed under the doorframe, the edges crumpled and damp. He handed it to me.
This is for what you took from me before Christmas.
I stared at the words, my mind racing.
What had I taken? And from whom?
That night, after putting the kids to bed, Ethan and I went straight to the security cameras. As we scrolled through the footage, my stomach churned.
A piece of paper on the floor | Source: Midjourney
The camera captured a hooded figure sneaking up our driveway, cartons of eggs in hand. Each throw was deliberate, as though they’d rehearsed the motion. This wasn’t a prank; it was a vendetta.
“This is insane,” Ethan said. “Who even does this anymore? This is a drunken prank for rowdy teens. Eggs and toilet paper.”
Then, something about the figure made me freeze. The way they tilted their head. The way their shoulders slumped between throws. My breath caught in my throat.
A person holding a carton of eggs | Source: Midjourney
“No,” I whispered, shaking my head. “It can’t be.”
But it was.
The hooded figure vandalizing our home was my mother.
The next morning, I left Ethan with the kids and drove to my mom’s house. My hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly I thought I might snap it in two.
A woman in a car | Source: Midjourney
When I rang the bell, she opened the door with her usual warm smile.
“Ellie! What a surprise!”
“Why?” I blurted, skipping the pleasantries. “Just explain why.”
Her smile faltered.
“Why what? Explain what?” she asked.
A woman standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney
“Why would you do that to us? Don’t even try to hide it, Mom. Come on!”
She blinked, her face going pale as she tried to figure out what to say. Then, she looked away, her expression clouded with guilt.
“Come sit down, El,” she said.
“I don’t want to sit down, Mom. I want to know why you took it upon yourself to mess up my house.”
A woman standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney
“It was because of your mother-in-law,” she said finally, her voice tight.
“What does Gloria have to do with it?” I asked.
“She called me, Eleanor,” my mother snapped, anger seeping into her voice. “Right before Christmas, she called to gloat about how you and Ethan were taking her on your precious island vacation. She said you made her feel so included, so special. And that she got quality time with the kids. And me? Oh, I was just left here to sit alone in the cold.”
An older woman at the beach | Source: Midjourney
I stared at her, completely stunned.
“Mom,” I said softly. “We didn’t take Gloria with us. That’s not true at all. She wasn’t on the trip, I promise!”
My mom’s eyes widened.
“But then… why would she say that?”
“To hurt you,” I said, my voice soft but firm. “To make you feel exactly this way. To drive a wedge between us. Why would I take Gloria and not my own mother?”
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
She sank onto the couch, covering her face with her hands.
“I was so angry, Ellie. I felt invisible, like I didn’t matter to you anymore. And I… I lost control.”
Her words cut deep because they weren’t entirely wrong.
A woman holding her head | Source: Midjourney
If I’m being completely honest, the truth was that I had let my mom drift to the edges of our lives. I adored her, of course, but between raising two young kids, managing a full-time job, and keeping up with everything else, I hadn’t noticed how isolated she’d become.
Looking back, the signs were there. The hesitation in her voice during phone calls, the way she’d stopped dropping by unannounced, usually with baked treats for us all.
I’d let my schedule get away with me. And I hadn’t thought about the consequences.
A woman working at her laptop | Source: Midjourney
“Mom,” I said gently, sitting beside her. “What you did was wrong. But I understand why you felt hurt. And I’m sorry if I made you feel left out. I’ve let life get away with me, Momma. It’s been a challenge, juggling work and the kids.”
Her face crumpled.
“I’m so sorry, Ellie,” she said. “I’ll fix everything! I promise! I’ll pay for the cleaning, and I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”
A crying older woman | Source: Midjourney
“We’ll clean it up, Mom,” I interrupted. “Together. But it starts with us fixing us. No more games. No more letting other people’s words twist how we feel. Okay?”
She nodded, her relief palpable. We hugged, and for the first time in years, it felt like the walls between us were finally coming down.
That afternoon, Mom came over with a bucket of soapy water and a stack of rags. Together, we scrubbed the egg off the walls, the porch, and the windows.
A bucket of soapy water | Source: Midjourney
It was messy, smelly, exhausting work, but somehow, with each streak we wiped away, it felt like we were wiping away years of tension too.
By the time we finished, the house looked — and felt — whole again.
That night, after Ethan and I made grilled cheese sandwiches for the kids and put them to bed, we sat down to talk with a glass of wine.
Grilled cheese sandwiches | Source: Midjourney
“Babe, it was your mom that started this whole thing. Gloria called my mom and told her that she was on vacation with us and was having the time of her life. She made it seem so real that my mom broke.”
“You’re kidding, El,” Ethan said, shaking his head. “She really did that? What on earth was she thinking?”
“I have no idea, but I think you need to talk to her. I need to focus on my mom, honey. She’s been feeling abandoned for years, and this was just her breaking point. I’m sorry, but Gloria is on you.”
A man sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
“I’ll call her,” Ethan said, his voice firm. “She’ll have no choice but to tell me the truth.”
Ethan went into our bedroom and called his mother, while I called my mom again.
“Mom, why don’t you come over to celebrate New Year’s Eve with us? We’re just going to be at home, okay? Let’s just eat and drink and have a good time!”
A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
There was a pause on the other end of the line. Then her voice brightened in a way I hadn’t heard in a long time.
“You really mean that?” she asked.
“I do, Mom,” I said. “It’s time.”
On New Year’s Eve, Mom arrived with a tray of homemade dumplings, a chocolate cake, and lamingtons for the kids. She was wearing a sparkling dress that made her look about ten years younger.
A platter of lamingtons | Source: Midjourney
Maddie and Noah rushed to greet her at the door, clinging to her legs as she fussed over them. Ethan handed her a glass of champagne and even managed to make her laugh with one of his notoriously terrible jokes.
At midnight, as the fireworks lit up the sky outside, we raised our glasses together.
“Cheers to new beginnings,” my mom said softly.
Fireworks in the night sky | Source: Midjourney
I looked around the room — at my kids’ happy, sleepy faces, my husband’s arm draped around my shoulders, and my mother, glowing with joy. Something shifted.
A week later, Ethan and I sat down with Gloria at a coffee shop.
“Mom, explain yourself,” Ethan said, adding sugar to his coffee. “And don’t deny anything. Be honest.”
A woman sitting in a coffee shop | Source: Midjourney
“I lied to your mother because I was hurt that you guys didn’t invite us. I don’t know why I did it, but I did. I think I felt overcome with loneliness too. You know how the holidays can creep up on widows…”
“Why didn’t you just go over and spend time with her?” I asked, taking a bite of my croissant. “You were both lonely. You could have spent time together and enjoyed the holidays getting to know each other better. You could have watched movies and baked and talked until the early hours of the morning.”
A croissant and coffee at a coffee shop | Source: Midjourney
“I wasn’t thinking, Ellie,” she said, her voice breaking. “I would take it all back in a heartbeat if I could, I promise you that.”
We were all silent for a while.
“So, now what?” Ethan asked.
“I’m going to phone Irene and make things right. I’m going to plan a tea party with her and make this better. We’ll fix it. Just you see.”
A tea party setting | Source: Midjourney
“I hope so, Gloria,” I said. “Because we can’t have the kids torn between their grandmothers. I’m not going to allow that.”
“As you should!” she exclaimed. “I wouldn’t allow it either. I’ll fix it, Ellie. Don’t you worry about that, love.”
In the end, we left our mothers to themselves, and slowly but surely, they did fix their relationship. Now, they are mahjong buddies who bake something new every weekend.
And for the record, I can’t stand eggs anymore.
A carton of eggs on a counter | Source: Midjourney
What would you have done?
If you’ve enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you:
When Sarah gets home from the usual errands with her kids, the last thing she expects is to hear her husband spilling his true feelings about her — that she is just a means to an end in his life. But Sarah isn’t about to let Ethan get away with his callous behavior. Instead, she decides to teach him a lesson.
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.
I Took in a Young Man Freezing on the Street on Christmas Eve — Later That Night, I Was Struck with Shock as He Crept Toward My Bed
I thought I was doing a good deed on Christmas Eve by taking in a young man shivering in the cold. But later that night, I woke to find him in my doorway, and my breath caught when I saw what he was holding.
Last Christmas Eve pressed down on me, heavy as the thick, relentless snow, the early darkness, and the silence echoing in the wind. I was just returning from the cemetery, where I’d visited my late husband Michael’s grave like I always did since his passing.
A sad woman in a cemetery | Source: Midjourney
I had stood there bundled in my thick coat, staring at his name etched into the cold stone, missing him with an ache that never fully disappeared.
But somehow, the loneliness was sharper that year. My son David had called earlier to tell me they wouldn’t be able to visit because Lily, my seven-year-old granddaughter, was sick.
Girl sleeping | Source: Midjourney
He apologized, adding, “Mom, we’ll come as soon as she’s better, I promise.”
“Of course,” I’d said, doing my best not to show my disappointment. I understood his position, but the silence in the house was almost too much to bear.
The streets were quiet as I drove home from the cemetery. That’s when I saw him. At first, I thought he was just a shadow under the streetlamp, huddled up and unmoving.
A quiet, snowy street | Source: Midjourney
But as I got closer, I realized it was a young man in a worn jacket. He looked frozen, his knees pulled to his chest as he sat on the curb.
And although I should’ve ignored him, and had done so with other people in the past, something told me to stop. I slowed the car and rolled down the window.
“Are you alright?” I called out. “Why are you out here in this weather?”
A woman in a car | Source: Midjourney
He turned his head slowly, meeting my gaze with striking eyes. They were the kind of light brown that stops you in your tracks, deep and piercing even in the dim light, and accentuated by his tanned skin.
For a moment, he just stared at me, blinking rather slowly. Then he said, almost too softly to hear, “I… I have nowhere else to go.”
I hesitated for only a second. “You’ll freeze out here,” I said. “Get in.”
He looked at me like he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing, but then he stood up slowly, brushed snow off his pants, and climbed into the car.
A shabby man near a car | Source: Midjourney
“What’s your name?” I asked as I turned up the heat.
“Carlos,” he answered cautiously.
“Well, Carlos,” I said, “you’re coming home with me tonight. It’s Christmas Eve, and no one should be out in this cold.”
He didn’t say anything, but I caught the faintest nod out of the corner of my eye.
When we got to the house, I grabbed some of David’s old clothes from the closet and handed them to Carlos.
“The bathroom is down the hall,” I said. “Take as much time as you need to warm up.”
A woman gesturing towards the side | Source: Midjourney
While he cleaned up and changed, I made hot cocoa, pulling out the marshmallows I usually saved for Lily. By the time Carlos came back into the living room, he looked more human and less like a shadow.
His now-clean hair curled beautifully, and the oversized sweater made him look younger than I’d first thought. He sank onto the couch, clutching the cup of hot cocoa.
A man holding a cup, sitting on a sofa | Source: Midjourney
“You remind me of my son,” I said as I settled into the armchair across from him. “That’s probably why I stopped my car.”
It was true, except it wasn’t so much his looks that resembled David, it was his aura. It was hard to describe. David looked just like my late husband, with green eyes and pale white skin. Carlos was obviously of Latin-American descent. But there was still something about him…
He smiled politely, but his eyes remained guarded. “Gracias. I mean, thank you,” he said quietly, correcting himself. “You didn’t have to… but you did. I won’t forget it.”
A man with a deep stare | Source: Midjourney
I smiled back at him. “De nada (You’re welcome),” I replied, though my Spanish wasn’t good at all. “It’s almost Christmas. Everyone deserves to be warm.”
I wanted to ask him more about himself, what had brought him to the streets, why he was alone on Christmas Eve, but when I tried, his face clouded over.
“It’s complicated,” he said, looking down at his cocoa.
“Fair enough,” I nodded, deciding not to push. Instead, I put on a cozy Christmas movie on the TV, and later, I showed him to the guest room and wished him a good night.
A woman in an armchair | Source: Midjourney
“If you need anything, just knock,” I said.
“Thank you,” he said again, and this time, the corner of his lips turned up slightly.
***
Later that night, I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. I was just starting to drift off when I heard a faint creak of floorboards outside my room.
I scrambled up in bed, every muscle screaming in protest, and turned to the door.
Carlos was standing in the doorway, his face shadowed and unrecognizable in the darkness.
A dark figure standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney
My heart quickened, and for one moment, I knew I shouldn’t have been so nice. Bringing a stranger home was a horrible idea.
My heart began to pound in my ears as I noticed something in his hand. I couldn’t make out what it was before he started walking toward me in slow and deliberate steps.
Panic surged through me. “STOP! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” I shouted, my voice cracking with fear.
A woman screaming in bed | Source: Midjourney
Carlos froze, his eyes widening in alarm. “Wait!” he said quickly, holding up the object in his hand. Relief washed over me as I realized what it was: a small orange bottle with my heart medication.
“You didn’t take this,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “I saw it on the counter and thought you might need it. My abuela (grandmother) used to take it every night right before bed.”
A man holding a medication bottle | Source: Midjourney
The fear drained out of me, replaced by embarrassment. But my hands were still trembling. “Oh,” I said weakly. “I… I forgot. Thank you.”
He nodded and placed the bottle on the nightstand before backing out of the room. “Good night,” he said softly, and then he was gone.
My body slumped back onto the bed, and I stared at the bottle for hours, feeling foolish yet grateful. I had assumed the worst about him, and all he had wanted to do was make sure I was okay.
A bottle of medication on a nightstand | Source: Midjourney
The next morning, I made pancakes, using the last of the blueberries I had stashed in the freezer. Carlos came into the kitchen, looking unsure of himself, and sat down at the table.
“Merry Christmas,” I said, sliding a small box across.
“What’s this?” he asked, looking genuinely surprised.
“Open it.”
He unwrapped the present slowly, pulling out the scarf I had knitted years ago. It was red and white, nothing fancy, but it was warm.
A man with a present | Source: Midjourney
“Thank you,” he said again, running his fingers over the soft yarn. He wrapped it around his neck immediately and smiled.
We ate in mostly silence while I wondered how to bring up the subject of last night. I wanted to thank him and apologize for having been scared.
But after Carlos finished his pancakes, he stood up. He walked to the door where he’d left his duffel bag and slung it over his shoulder.
“Where are you going?” I asked, frowning.
A woman at breakfast table | Source: Midjourney
“You really helped me last night, ma’am,” Carlos said, licking his lips. “Thank you. But I should go now.”
“Where will you go?”
He hesitated with one hand on the doorknob. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’ll figure something out.”
“Wait,” I said, standing. “Why don’t you stay? Help me around the house, make sure I take my pills. I could use the company.”
“Really?” he asked, hope flickering in his eyes.
A man looking hopeful | Source: Midjourney
“Of course,” I said. “You shouldn’t be out there on Christmas day, either. You can also work around the house as your way of paying for room and board. What do you say?”
Carlos simply smiled and set down his duffel bag again.
***
Over the next few weeks, we settled into a rhythm. Carlos was quiet and respectful, always making sure to keep his space tidy and never overstepping.
A man smiling | Source: Midjourney
We even had a great New Year’s Eve together. And although I didn’t push, I was happy when he started to open up.
One night, in January, as we sat by the fire, he finally told me about his past. His troubles began when his parents kicked him out.
“They didn’t understand me,” he said hesitantly. “They thought I was wasting my life with art. They wanted me to study something practical, like engineering or medicine. When I said no, they told me I wasn’t welcome in their house anymore.”
A man sitting by the fireplace | Source: Midjourney
So, he’d been ousted for pursuing his passion, of his dream of becoming an artist. Then life had dealt him another cruel blow.
A roommate had stolen everything he owned, like his few meager savings, and even items belonging to the landlord, before disappearing. He was later evicted for being unable to replace the stolen items. Finally, he lost his job simply for being homeless.
“I probably would’ve frozen out there if it weren’t for you,” he said with a soft sigh.
A man smiling while sitting by a fireplace | Source: Midjourney
How could this world be so cruel?
I reached over and put my hand on his. “You don’t have to worry about that anymore. You’re safe here.”
***
Now here we are. It’s a year later, and here’s what has happened.
With my help, Carlos found a new job and a small apartment nearby. He became a regular visitor, bringing laughter back into the house. He even charmed my son, daughter-in-law, and granddaughter.
As we decorated the Christmas tree together, I realized how much my life had changed. Carlos was no longer a stranger I’d taken in; he was family.
A woman decorating a Christmas tree | Source: Midjourney
And while he always says I saved his life, the truth is that he’d saved mine.
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.
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