A poor little boy is in tears after being teased by his classmates for the cheap Halloween costume his father made until the school principal shows up wearing the same.
Levi loved his small house and his parents, Carol and Darren. They weren’t rich, but they were there for one another and him, which he admired. But one afternoon, after returning home from school, Levi was upset with his parents.
How could he not be upset? It was Halloween, the trick-or-treating season, and there was a fancy dress competition at his school, but Levi’s parents didn’t have enough money to get him a new costume.
His classmates would all be dressed as Superman, Batman, or one of the Avengers, but he would have to make do with his old costume!
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“Honey, please understand,” Carol said. “You know, daddy and I are trying our best to save this house. We need to put money aside for the mortgage payment.”
“Do you not love me, mom?” asked Levi sadly. “I don’t want the house. I want a new costume. But you love the house, not me!”
Carol sighed. “It’s not like that, honey. Mommy and daddy love you the most! We love you more than anything!”
“No!” he screamed in tears. “You are lying! You don’t love me! You love the house!”
With that, Levi disappeared to his room in tears and didn’t come out even for dinner. No parent wants to see their children sad; even Carol didn’t. Did she have a choice, though? Not really.
They were drowned in loans, and their small shop just brought them enough to get by. But seeing Levi sad bothered her, so she discussed it with Darren over dinner.
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“He’s sad, hun,” she said. “Can we get him a new costume? If not, I’ll find a part-time job.”
“Don’t stress yourself out, honey,” Darren said. “You already have too much on your plate right now. I’ve got an idea…”
Two days later, while Levi was eating dinner alone in his room, still upset with his parents about the costume, Darren walked in with a huge parcel in his hands.
In this cruel world, we must stand up for one another and encourage the good.
“Can I come in, little boy?” he asked at the door.
“No, you can’t,” Levi said. He didn’t even look up from his plate.
“Even if I say I got you a new costume?” Darren asked. “I thought you’d be excited.”
“Did you?” Levi looked at the parcel in Darren’s hands and grinned. “Is that a new outfit? Really?”
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“Yes, it is!” said Darren. “Now, can we have a little apology for mommy because you yelled at her two days ago? She was so worried about you.”
Levi was so excited to see his new costume that he bolted from his room and hugged Carol. “You and daddy love me! Not the house! I’m so sorry, mom! Let’s see my new costume together!” He held her hands and ran so fast that she almost tripped.
Then came the BIG moment. When Levi opened the parcel and saw the costume inside, he was in tears.
“Is that a robot?” he asked. “Dad, mom, I love robots!”
“We know you do, little boy,” said Carol. “Do you like it? Daddy made it for you!”
“I love it, mom and dad!” chirped Levi, wiping his tears. “I love it very much! And I love you so much! Thank you!”
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Levi was delighted. He loved the robot costume Darren had made out of cardboard and duct tape. Yes, it wasn’t expensive, but it had his heart and his dad’s efforts.
But on the day of the fancy dress event, Levi was crying because of the costume. He was sad because all his classmates were teasing him.
“Look, Levi is wearing a piece of colored cardboard!” a boy said and laughed. “He couldn’t even buy a new costume!”
“Don’t say that, Tony!” Levi protested, swallowing the tears in his eyes. “My dad worked hard on this! He went through videos on his computer, and he did so much hard work!”
“Oh, did he?” another kid said and chuckled with his friends. “Well, that outfit makes you look like a loser! I bet your dad’s a loser too!”
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All the kids were so mean to Levi that he started crying. When his name was called, he didn’t show up on the stage and instead cried backstage.
Soon, the show was over, and everyone got to flaunt their costumes except Levi.
“I’m so sorry, dad…” He sniffed. “I didn’t even take part in the competition! I wasted your hard work! I’m sorry…”
Suddenly, Levi heard a loud gasp. He looked at the stage and couldn’t believe his eyes. The school principal, Mr. Frederick, was on the stage, and he was dressed as a robot! A red one, unlike Levi, who was wearing a blue costume.
“Where is my fellow robot? Levi, where are you, child?” he called out from the stage.
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“Mr. Frederick?” Levi exclaimed as he stepped onto the stage. “You have the same costume as me!”
“Call me, Captain Red!” he said stiffly. “Agent Blue, you got a nice suit there! Mine took so much time to make!”
“You look cool, Captain Red!” Levi smiled, having forgotten his worries. “My dad made me this suit! I just love it!”
“That’s wonderful, Agent Blue! I’ll ask your dad to make me a suit next time! I saw some kids didn’t appreciate your costume, so I thought, why not show them they’re wrong? You know what? I love your outfit! You’re lucky! Your dad spends love on you, which is more important than just spending money on children…”
That day, Levi won the competition. His dress stood out from the bunch of Spidermans, Batmans, Avengers, and Disney princesses, and he had a huge smile on his face as he lifted the trophy with Captain Red!
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At that point, the group of mean kids huddled around Levi and apologized. “WE ARE SORRY, LEVI!” they cried in unison. “Your costume was awesome!”
Levi was happy that the other kids loved his costume. He shared the big basket of candies he had won as a part of the prize with them and said, “It’s ok! I’m not sad anymore. Let’s not be mean to others, ok? Mommy and daddy say we should love each other!”
“That’s absolutely right, Levi,” Mr. Frederick said gently. “Always remember, kids, that we need to stand up for each other and encourage the good in this world. Never put others down! That’s what Captain Red and Agent Blue also believe in!” he added with a wink, and all the kids happily nodded as they devoured the Halloween candies.
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What can we learn from this story?
- In this cruel world, we must stand up for one another and encourage the good. Thanks to Mr. Frederick, the kids realized they were wrong to mock Levi and learned the importance of love over money.
- Spending love on children is more important than spending money. Levi’s parents couldn’t afford to buy him a new costume, but they loved him so much that they couldn’t bear the thought of him being unhappy. So they got him a lovely outfit that Darren created himself.
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 an older woman who decides to feed a starving boy on Halloween and is shocked when the boy removes his mask—he’s her missing son’s carbon copy.
A Secret Santa Gift Unlocked the Mystery of My Mother’s Disappearance — Story of the Day
Two years after my mother vanished without a trace, I unwrapped a Secret Santa gift and froze. Inside was her necklace—a piece she’d never part with. I needed to find out who my Secret Santa was and where he had found that treasure.
The office was alive with holiday cheer. Strings of twinkling lights draped across cubicles, and a faint scent of cinnamon lingered in the air. Around me, colleagues laughed and exchanged Secret Santa gifts. I tried to smile but couldn’t shake the emptiness that had settled in my chest.
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For two years, the holidays had been hollow. My mother had vanished without a trace, walking out the door one cold morning and never returning. No note, no goodbye.
The police called it a voluntary disappearance. I called it impossible. Mom would never leave me willingly, not without a reason.
“Your turn, Sophie!” Jenna’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
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She stood beside me, clutching her mug of hot chocolate, her cheeks pink from excitement or maybe a marshmallow overdose.
I stepped forward. The attention made my skin prickle, but I reached for the small, gold-wrapped box on the table. My fingers worked quickly, untying the ribbon and peeling back the paper.
I wasn’t expecting much. Maybe a candle or a coffee mug with a cheesy slogan. But the moment I opened the box, the world seemed to tilt.
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Inside lay a necklace. HER necklace.
The delicate silver chain glinted under the office lights, and the aquamarine pendant shimmered like a tiny ocean. My breath caught as I turned it over.
There it was. “AMELIA,” etched into the back. My hands trembled.
“Sophie? You okay?” Jenna whispered to me.
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“I’m fine. It’s just… this necklace. It belonged to my mom.”
“Oh, wow! That’s a coincidence,” she said, leaning in for a better look. “It’s gorgeous.”
Coincidence? No. It can’t be. How did this end up here? Who had given it to me?
For the first time in two years, I had a tiny, fragile thread to follow. And I wasn’t letting it go.
***
The next morning, I walked into the office with the necklace tucked safely in my pocket. My mind buzzed with questions, but one stood out: “Who was my Secret Santa?”
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By mid-morning, I couldn’t hold back any longer. As a group of colleagues gathered around the coffee machine, I approached cautiously.
“Hey, does anyone know who might’ve been my Secret Santa?”
Jenna, always the cheerful one, piped up first. “Secret Santa is supposed to be anonymous, Sophie. That’s the fun of it!”
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“I know, but…” I hesitated, pulling the necklace out of my pocket and letting it dangle from my fingers. “This is my mother’s necklace. She’s been missing for two years, and… well, it’s the first clue I’ve had.”
The room fell silent. Even Jenna didn’t seem to know what to say. Then, from across the room, Margaret’s voice rang out, sharp as ever.
“Who else could it be?” She rolled her eyes, walking toward us. “Thomas, obviously. He’s the only one around here who’d buy something from a flea market and call it a gift.”
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I blinked, surprised by her bluntness. Margaret had been after Thomas for months, dropping not-so-subtle hints and invitations to dinner until, finally, he gave in and agreed to go out with her. So, she guarded him like a hawk, as if every interaction he had was a potential threat to their fragile new relationship.
“Thomas?” I turned to look at him, standing awkwardly behind Margaret.
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“Uh, yeah,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “I just thought it was pretty and…”
Margaret smirked. “Exactly. Typical Thomas.”
I ignored her tone, focusing instead on him. “Where did you get it? Do you remember the seller?”
“Yeah, it was a stall at the flea market downtown. I can show you where. If you want.”
“No, you can’t,” Margaret interjected, placing a hand on his arm. “You have work to finish, Thomas. Remember the reports? Or do you want to stay late again?”
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Her voice dripped with jealousy. The tension between them made me squirm.
“It’s fine,” I said quickly, not wanting to cause a scene. “I’ll check it out myself. Thanks anyway, Thomas.”
Frustration bubbled inside me as I left the office. Margaret’s possessiveness was maddening, but I didn’t have time to dwell on it. I headed straight to the flea market, determined to find the seller.
***
The market was overwhelming, with its endless stalls and the chatter of bargaining voices. It took over an hour, but I finally found the vendor. When I showed him the necklace, his face lit up in recognition.
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“I remember this piece,” he said, his voice tinged with nostalgia. “That aquamarine is rare. It cost a fortune! I bought it from a woman outside a small shop in another town. She seemed… troubled.”
My heart raced. “Do you remember the shop?”
He scribbled down an address on a scrap of paper and handed it to me. “Here you go, miss.”
I glanced at the paper and frowned. “Wait… this is in another state?”
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The man nodded. “Oh, yes. It’s a small shop just over the border. Quite the journey.”
I sighed. “Great. Just my luck.”
Armed with the address, I tried booking a train and found out they were all full. As I stood there, weighing my options, a familiar voice called out behind me.
“Need a ride?”
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I turned to see Thomas, slightly out of breath but smiling. “Margaret wasn’t thrilled, but I couldn’t let you do this alone.”
“Thomas! I need to get to another state by evening. But it’s Christmas Eve. Margaret is already…”
He cut me off with a shrug and a grin. “Margaret will get over it. Besides, this seems more important.”
For a brief moment, we were driving in silence. The thought of finding my mother kept my nerves buzzing like static. In a few hours, we pulled into a dimly lit station.
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Thomas jumped out to pay while I stretched, feeling the chill of the evening air. A few minutes later, he returned, his face pale.
“I’ve got bad news,” he muttered, holding his card up. “It’s declined. Again.”
I stared at him. “You’re kidding.”
“It’s Margaret’s doing. She froze my account. I’d bet my last dollar on it.”
I groaned, pulling out my wallet. “I’ve got fifty bucks, but that’s not enough to fill the tank and get us there.”
For a moment, we stood in silence.
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“Need a hand?” a deep voice called out.
We turned to see a truck driver stepping out of his rig. He was a burly man with kind eyes and a worn Santa hat perched on his head.
“We’re trying to get to the next town,” I explained. “We’re almost out of gas, and… well, we’re stuck.”
He scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Tell you what. I’m heading that way myself. Got room in the cab if you don’t mind hitching a ride.”
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Thomas and I exchanged a quick glance. “We’d really appreciate it.”
“Hop in,” he said with a nod, gesturing toward the passenger door.
The ride was bumpy but surprisingly comfortable. The truck driver, who introduced himself as Joe, chatted with us about Christmas, his family, and the long hours he’d been pulling on the road. His kindness was a balm to my frayed nerves. When we arrived at the town, the shop’s door was locked, and a sign on the window read:
“Sorry, We’re Closed.”
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“Now what?” I whispered, the weight of the journey threatening to crush me.
Before Thomas could respond, the hum of a taxi interrupted us. The car stopped abruptly and out stepped Margaret, her cheeks flushed with anger.
“You’ve got some nerve,” she snapped, marching toward Thomas. “Tracking you wasn’t easy, you know. And all for her?” She pointed at me with disdain.
“Margaret, it’s not what you think,” Thomas began, but she was already on a roll.
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“The necklace, Thomas! What kind of ‘colleague’ gift is that? Did you think I wouldn’t figure it out?”
“It’s my mother’s,” I interrupted, showing her the name on it. “See? Amelia. I’m here because of her.”
Margaret looked skeptical, but before she could respond, Joe cleared his throat. “Excuse me, but that necklace… It saved someone’s life once.”
We all turned to him in surprise. Joe nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful.
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“A woman sacrificed it once. She said it was her most valuable possession, but she didn’t hesitate to part with it. It’s a long story. I can take you to her.”
My breath caught. “You know her?”
“I think so,” he said. “If she’s who I think she is, she’ll be at the shelter. She’s always there, especially on the holidays.”
Shelter… Does that mean she’s ended up homeless?
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My heart twisted at the thought, but I nodded. “Let’s go.”
***
Despite the biting cold outside, the shelter glowed with warmth. Golden lights twinkled in the frosted windows, and inside, the hum of chatter and laughter mixed with the scent of spiced cider and fresh-baked cookies. My heart pounded as we stepped through the doors. The weight of hope and fear pressed down on me.
Is she here? Can this really be it?
We were greeted by a kind woman bustling about, her apron dusted with flour. She paused when she saw the necklace in my hand and gasped softly.
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“That’s a beautiful piece,” she said, her voice tinged with recognition. “I know it well. It saved me, you know.”
My throat tightened. “It was my mother’s. Do you know where it came from?”
“Come with me.”
The woman introduced herself as Alice, the owner of that small shop in town we’d already been to. She explained how, two years ago, she’d been on the brink of losing everything—the shop and the shelter.
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Then, a woman had appeared, disoriented but determined. She’d insisted on selling the necklace, refusing to take no for an answer. That woman was Amelia. My mother, Amelia.
Tears stung my eyes as Alice continued. “She’s been with me ever since, helping me run the shelter and shop. She’s remarkable, even though… she struggles with her memory. But she’s here tonight. I never leave her alone on the holidays.”
The room seemed to blur as I waited. And then I saw her.
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My mother stepped into the room. Her frame was thinner, her hair streaked with gray, but her eyes—those familiar, loving eyes—met mine. For a moment, she paused, and then tears filled her gaze.
“Mom,” I whispered, my voice breaking as I ran to her. She held me tightly, and the world around us faded.
We spent the evening in the warm embrace of the shelter’s community. Even Margaret, moved by Alice’s story, softened, donating generously and offering heartfelt apologies.
That night, I realized Christmas wasn’t just about presents or tradition. It was about love, hope, and second chances. Miracles, I thought, happen in the most unexpected ways.
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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: For months after Mark’s death, I was drowning in grief, clinging to signs I thought he was sending me. 11:11, 10:10, 09:09. They gave me hope, a lifeline. But a stranger turned those signs into something more.
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.
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