3 Years after Son’s Death, Lady Opens Door on Halloween & Sees Kids in Costumes She Sewed for Him – Story of the Day

A bereaved mother is startled when kids arrive on her doorstep trick-or-treating in her dead son’s Halloween costumes. She immediately checks his room and is in for a tear-jerking surprise.

“Please give it a thought, Mrs. Brown. You cannot always escape this time of the year. You have to overcome it, and this is the only way out. You need to celebrate Halloween or at least decorate your house,” the psychologist told Rosemary, 37.

Rosemary’s eyes brimmed with tears as she pressed her chin on her knuckles. She was nervous. “Will I be able to do it? Will it help me not think about what happened to my son on that Halloween?” she thought.

Rosemary shyly smiled and got up to leave the clinic. She headed to the market to buy décor. Though she did not feel like celebrating the holiday, she followed the doctor’s advice.

It had been three years since Rosemary and her son Dave carved fleshy pumpkins into glowering jack-o’-lanterns. It had been three hellish years since Rosemary lost Dave on the morning of Halloween, and his death still kept haunting her…

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Lucas, Rosemary’s husband, was surprised when he came home on All Hallows Eve. He had been out of town on a business trip and was astonished when he saw his house fully decorated with the Halloween spirit.

“Rose, hey…hey…” he exclaimed as he entered the door, holding big boxes of stuff he’d shopped from the city. “I’m so happy you’re doing this. I’m sure our son would be happy to see you smiling after a very long time.”

Lucas kissed Rosemary before leaving to freshen up. Tears rolled down Rosemary’s face as she fixed the light into the jack-o’-lantern. It was Dave’s favorite part of the festival. He always placed bets with his friends about who had the funkiest jack-o’-lantern.

Rosemary’s house that day looked so beautiful and all set for a perfect Halloween. It caught everyone’s eye, especially one gang of kids on the street.

Those we love do not truly leave us. There are certain things death can never touch.

They couldn’t help but think Rosemary’s decorated house was a signal inviting them over for a trick-or-treat. They had never visited Rosemary’s house on Halloween before, so seeing her house ready for the holiday tempted them.

The kids marched to Rosemary’s house in costumes that would go on to make the bereaving mother burst into tears.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Just as Rosemary readied the table for dinner and was wiping the crockery, she heard a loud knock on the door. She answered the door and turned pale with shock seeing a group of happy little children chiming, “Trick or treat!”

Rosemary could not believe her eyes. She recognized the costumes the kids were wearing. She had exclusively sewn them for Dave three years ago for Halloween, but he never got to wear them. He died in an accident while crossing the road the morning of All Hallows Eve.

Rosemary was shaken. She clasped the door and gaped at the children from head to toe.

“That embroidery… those buttons and skeleton paintings on the shirt… Dave asked me to do a patchwork resembling cobwebs on his witch hat… And these pumpkin buttons… ‘D’ for Dave… I sewed them myself. What is going on? How did they get my son’s Halloween costumes from his room?” Rosemary thought.

“It cannot be.”

Rosemary quickly gave the kids some candies and ran to her son’s room. She pulled out a trunk from under the bed and opened it. Dave’s Halloween costumes were not there.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Rosemary was startled. She started sweating and sat on the floor, crying. “Who took them? Who gave my Dave’s clothes to those kids?”

She looked up and saw the state of her late son’s room. It looked different and empty. Almost all his items were missing, including his favorite shoe collection, posters, and even superhero toys. Rosemary peeped into his wardrobe and only found empty hangers.

Everything was intact when she checked Dave’s room a month ago. She never gave away a thing there because she wanted to preserve everything in memory of her dead son. So seeing Dave’s room in a near-empty state puzzled her. Rosemary could not understand what was going on and immediately called Lucas.

“Everything is missing. I see nothing here that belonged to our son. Darling, what’s going on? Who took Dave’s things from here?”

That’s when Rosemary sensed a weird hesitation on Lucas’ face. He could not look her in the eye and simply walked away.

“Lucas, what’s going on? Why aren’t you saying anything? Where are my son’s things? And why are those kids wearing his Halloween costumes?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Rosemary followed Lucas to the kitchen where she found him staring at the plain wall.

“Darling, what’s going on? Why are you silent? I’m going crazy. Can someone please tell me what’s happening in this house?”

Lucas turned around, tears streaming down his face. He hugged Rosemary and made a confession.

“Sweetie, I know how much Dave means to us even now. But I could not see you destroyed like this,” he began.

“Once, I visited the shelter at the end of this street with my friend. The little boys there reminded me of our son. So I gave away all his stuff to them. Whenever I see those kids in our son’s shirt, pants, or even shoes, I see Dave, not some strange random kid.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Rosemary burst into tears. “So, were those kids who came trick or treating to our house from the shelter?”

“Yes, they are! On my way home this evening, I saw them wearing the costumes you’d made for Dave. I was so happy and invited them to our home for some candies, hoping you would be happy to see them.”

Rosemary threw herself into Lucas’s arms and began to cry.

“Thank you so much, darling. You have no idea what you did today!”

“I did?” Lucas was puzzled, seeing a strange glow in his wife’s eyes.

“Yes! One of those little boys looked just like our son Dave. I think this is what destiny wanted us to do…to adopt him and bring him home as our son!”

Lucas and Rosemary were so delighted, they quickly began the paperwork to adopt Tom, the little boy who reminded Rosemary of the late Dave. They brought him home six months later.

Ever since Tom arrived, Rosemary was never sad again. She, Lucas, and Tom lived a life of dreams and happiness together. They also helped the other children in the shelter find loving homes.

A year later…again on Halloween…

“Mama, look…my jack-o’-lantern…you like it?” Tom asked Rosemary, showing a gorgeous jack-o’-lantern he’d made. Rosemary shed tears of joy as she realized Tom was none but a gift her late son Dave had sent from heaven.

“It’s beautiful, darling! It reminds me of someone dear to me!” she cried and hugged the boy as they got ready for the evening.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

What can we learn from this story?

  • Those we love do not truly leave us. There are certain things death can never touch. After losing her son Dave, Rosemary was devastated. She had never celebrated Halloween for three years since the day marked her beloved son’s death. However, she would later learn that her son wasn’t truly gone when she meets a young boy who resembles Dave and becomes part of their family.
  • Embrace your grief and move on. No sorrow is permanent unless you choose to stick to it. It took Rosemary three years to embrace her grief and move on from her son’s loss. Although she was never entirely out of it, she sought solace in her adopted son Tom.

On Christmas Eve, I Visited My Missing Parents’ Abandoned House and Found It Beautifully Decorated

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?

It’s been twenty years since I last spoke to my parents. Twenty years since they kicked me out for getting pregnant.

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.

An upset girl sitting on her bed | Source: Midjourney

An upset girl sitting on her bed | Source: Midjourney

“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.

A shouting man | Source: Midjourney

A shouting man | Source: Midjourney

“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.

An upset woman standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney

“Why would I leave you?” he asked, holding the pregnancy test. “We’re in this together, Megan.”

“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.

A teenage couple sitting on a bench | Source: Midjourney

A teenage couple sitting on a bench | Source: Midjourney

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.

But here we are.

Happy.

Three children sitting together | Source: Midjourney

Three children sitting together | Source: Midjourney

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?”

An older man standing in his doorway | Source: Midjourney

An older man standing in his doorway | Source: Midjourney

“What incident? What are you talking about?” I asked, an uneasy feeling taking over me.

“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.

A couple hiking | Source: Midjourney

A couple hiking | Source: Midjourney

“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.

I always counted on them to be there for the day I decided to bring my children to meet them.

An upset woman standing on a porch | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman standing on a porch | Source: Midjourney

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.

For five years after, the house sat empty. I never had the courage to sell it, though. Something about letting it go felt wrong.

An empty house | Source: Midjourney

An empty house | Source: Midjourney

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.

An abandoned house with an overgrown garden | Source: Midjourney

An abandoned house with an overgrown garden | Source: Midjourney

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.

Christmas decorations on an old house | Source: Midjourney

Christmas decorations on an old house | Source: Midjourney

There was a faded wreath with little bells, which hung crookedly on the front door. There were the familiar plastic candy canes lining the path to the house.

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?

Wooden reindeer on a lawn | Source: Midjourney

Wooden reindeer on a lawn | Source: Midjourney

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.

The decorations looked exactly the way my dad used to do them. The same lights, the same setup. A lump formed in my throat. It was like stepping back into my childhood, as if time had rewound itself.

A connected generator | Source: Midjourney

A connected generator | Source: Midjourney

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…

The front door of an empty house | Source: Midjourney

The front door of an empty house | Source: Midjourney

The living room took my breath away.

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 man hunched by a fireplace | Source: Midjourney

A man hunched by a fireplace | Source: Midjourney

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.

The figure stirred and turned slowly toward me, the firelight flickering across his face.

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.

A close up of a man | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a man | Source: Midjourney

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

Of course, I remembered him.

He used to be the little boy who lived next door, the one with the messy hair and a toothy grin. But then, he couldn’t have been older than me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

A smiling young boy | Source: Midjourney

A smiling young boy | Source: Midjourney

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.

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

It took me a minute to process what he was saying.

“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.”

A man sitting next to a fire | Source: Midjourney

A man sitting next to a fire | Source: Midjourney

My chest tightened at his words.

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

“I remembered how your dad used to decorate the house. You guys had the nicest house in the neighborhood. When I was walking around for old time’s sake, I saw that the house was still empty. And I made myself at home… I found the decorations in the basement.”

A basement | Source: Midjourney

A basement | Source: Midjourney

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.

A man sitting next to a fire | Source: Midjourney

A man sitting next to a fire | Source: Midjourney

“I’m sorry if I shouldn’t be here,” Max said. “I just… had nowhere to go. No parents to turn to for the holidays, and honestly, I didn’t think anyone would mind.”

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.”

A pile of presents under a Christmas tree | Source: Midjourney

A pile of presents under a Christmas tree | Source: Midjourney

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.

Evan and I have some savings. It could be enough to do the house up properly. Once it’s fixed, Max can live there. He can rent out a couple of rooms to boarders if he needs the extra income. It’s not much, but it’s a start, and I know it will give him a chance to get back on his feet.

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

House renovations in progress | Source: Midjourney

House renovations in progress | Source: Midjourney

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.

What would you have done?

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

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.

A woman looking through her closet | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking through her closet | Source: Midjourney

“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.

A close-up of a smiling man | Source: Midjourney

A close-up of a smiling man | Source: Midjourney

But my husband wasn’t wrong.

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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