On Christmas Eve, a wealthy but lonely Dennis stumbles upon a lost eight-year-old boy in the town square. Haunted by memories of his own childhood, Dennis soon finds his life changing in ways he never expected.
The square was alive with lights and laughter. Kids zipped around on skates, their cheeks red from the cold. Couples walked hand in hand, leaning close, bundled up, and smiling. A small group of carolers sang on the corner near the big tree, voices warm even in the chilly air.
A snowy street on Christmas | Source: Pexels
I took it all in, trying to feel… something. You’d think a successful guy like me, an orphan who grew up to be a businessman, wouldn’t feel out of place here.
But here I was, alone, like every other holiday season. I’d had a few relationships over the years, but my partners saw dollar signs, not me.
A sad man outside on a snowy day | Source: Midjourney
Suddenly, I felt someone collide with me, and I turned to see a young woman sprawled on the ground, looking up at me with a grin. Her laughter was contagious, and for a split second, I couldn’t help but smile back. She was beautiful, bright-eyed, with a spark that caught me off guard.
“Oops,” she laughed, still sitting there. “Sorry! Guess I’m not as good on skates as I thought.”
A woman on a skating rink | Source: Midjourney
“It’s alright,” I said, offering a hand to help her up. “You sure you’re okay?”
But just as quickly, a tall guy came over, scowling as he pulled her away from me. “Hey, buddy, what’s the deal here? Hitting on my girl?”
“No, I wasn’t,” I said quickly, backing off, with my hands up. “Just helping her up, that’s all.”
An aggressive man on a skating rink | Source: Midjourney
“Yeah, well, don’t,” he muttered, shooting me a glare as he led her away. She looked back once, mouthing a quick “Sorry,” and then they were gone, swallowed by the crowd.
I stood there for a moment, shaking my head. “So much for miracles,” I muttered. I turned to leave, ready to head home.
An upset man on a skating rink | Source: Midjourney
Then I felt a small tug on my coat. I turned around, half-expecting that girl again, but instead, I found myself looking down at a boy. He couldn’t have been more than eight, with wide brown eyes and a nervous look on his face. He clutched a small keychain, his hand trembling.
“Excuse me, sir,” he said, voice soft and polite. “I… I need some help. I can’t find my family. Haven’t seen them in days.”
A sad boy next to a Christmas tree | Source: Midjourney
The words hit me like a blast of cold air. “You… you lost your family?” I asked, lowering myself to his eye level. “When did you last see them?”
The boy looked down, shuffling his feet. “I’m not sure. I been lookin’ for a while, though. But… but please, sir, don’t call the police.”
“Not the police?” I asked, puzzled. “But if you’ve been lost for days—”
A serious man talking to a boy | Source: Midjourney
He shook his head vigorously. “No, no police. I heard people sayin’ that sometimes, when parents don’t have much money, the police take kids away. And… and my family doesn’t have much. They’re poor. I’m afraid they’ll… well, they’ll take me away, too.”
I looked at him, feeling a pang of something I hadn’t felt in years. I knew what it was like to be a kid worried about getting taken away.
A sad boy in an orphanage | Source: Midjourney
“Alright,” I said gently, resting a hand on his shoulder. “No police, I promise. We’ll just… we’ll figure this out. Okay?”
He nodded, relief flashing across his face. “Thank you, sir. I didn’t know who else to ask.”
“Call me Dennis,” I said. “And what’s your name?”
A smiling man talking to a young boy | Source: Midjourney
“Ben,” he replied, clutching his keychain a little tighter.
“Alright, Ben,” I said. “Let’s get you home. Do you know where you live?”
He nodded. “It’s a little ways from here. I can show you. I think I remember.”
A sad blue-eyed boy | Source: Midjourney
I called my driver, and we waited in the cold as he pulled up to the curb. Ben climbed in first, tucking himself into the back seat. I followed, shutting the door and glancing over at him. “So,” I said, trying to make conversation, “what kind of keychain is that? Looks pretty special.”
He looked down, fingers wrapped around the tiny silver heart on his keychain. “It’s… well, it’s just a keychain they give you at this place I stayed at once.”
A small silver keychain | Source: Midjourney
I looked at it more closely, realizing that it looked familiar. Very familiar.
“So, you like Christmas?” I asked instead.
“Yeah, it’s nice,” he mumbled, still looking out the window.
When we reached the address he’d given, I got out and walked with him up to the front door. He knocked once, then again. Silence.
A sad boy near a door | Source: Midjourney
“Maybe they went to my grandparents’ place,” he said, though he didn’t sound convinced.
I glanced back at the square, its lights twinkling in the distance. “Alright, Ben,” I said, kneeling down to his level. “Maybe we’ll give it some time. How about we head back to the square and enjoy a few things while we wait? Have you ever been skating?”
A smiling man looking down | Source: Midjourney
He looked at me, his eyes lighting up. “I haven’t! Can we?”
I stood up, smiling. “Sure. Why not?”
As we headed back to the square, Ben’s face lit up with excitement. The whole place was glowing, with lights strung up on every tree and children darting around. I hadn’t done much for the holidays in a long time, but tonight felt different.
Christmas fair | Source: Pexels
“So, skating first?” I asked, nodding toward the rink.
Ben’s eyes went wide. “Really? Can I?”
“Absolutely. Let’s get some skates.”
A boy on a skating rink | Source: Freepik
Minutes later, we were on the ice. Ben took off, shaky at first, his little arms flailing. I was no expert, but I managed to stay upright. We slipped, stumbled, and laughed. I felt lighter than I had in years.
“Look, Dennis! I got it!” he shouted, gliding a little more steadily, a grin stretched across his face.
A man smiling after he fell on a skating rink | Source: Midjourney
“You’re a pro already,” I laughed, half-joking. “I’m gonna need lessons from you!”
After skating, we tried one of the carnival games—throwing rings onto bottles. He didn’t win, but he nearly knocked over the whole stand with how excited he was.
“Can we get hot chocolate?” he asked, eyeing the stand nearby.
Hot chocolate | Source: Pexels
“Of course,” I said. We got our steaming cups, finding a bench to sit and watch the crowd. As he sipped, Ben looked so content. His cheeks were flushed, and there was a peace in his expression that felt like a gift.
I looked at him, a warmth growing in my chest that I hadn’t felt in years. I’d only known this boy for a few hours, yet I felt connected to him. And I didn’t want the night to end.
A happy boy holding hot chocolate | Source: Midjourney
But eventually, I cleared my throat. “Ben, maybe… maybe it’s time to head back to the shelter.”
He looked up, surprised, and for a moment, his face fell. “How did you know?”
I smiled gently, pointing at his keychain. “I recognized that keychain the second I saw it. They gave out the same ones when I stayed there.”
A man talking to a boy on a Christmas fair | Source: Midjourney
His eyes widened. “You… you were at the shelter?”
I nodded. “A long time ago. I was around your age. So, I understand. I get what it feels like to want a family, even just for a night.”
Ben’s eyes dropped to the ground, and he nodded slowly. “I just… I wanted to feel like I had a family, you know? Just for Christmas.”
An upset boy | Source: Freepik
“Yeah,” I said softly. “I know. And I’m really glad I got to spend Christmas Eve with you, Ben.”
He looked up, and I saw the gratitude in his eyes. “Me too, Dennis.”
We walked back to the shelter in silence, the warmth of the evening settling between us. When we arrived, a familiar face was waiting outside. It was her, the young woman who’d bumped into me earlier. Her eyes widened with relief as she spotted us.
A concerned woman sitting on a street | Source: Midjourney
“There you are!” she exclaimed, rushing over to Ben and hugging him tightly. “We were so worried about you. We should notify the police you’re back.”
Ben squeezed her hand, mumbling, “I was okay. Dennis helped me.”
The woman looked up at me, her expression softening. “Thank you so much for bringing him back.” She let out a breath, then added with a tired smile, “I’m Sarah. I volunteer here. We’ve been searching for him since this afternoon.”
A smiling man talking to a woman | Source: Midjourney
“Nice to meet you, Sarah,” I said, realizing this must be more than a chance meeting. We stood there for a moment, caught in a quiet, shared relief. She looked exhausted, her face a mix of worry and something else—hurt, maybe.
I hesitated, then asked, “Rough night?”
A man talking to a woman on a Christmas fair | Source: Midjourney
She nodded, looking away. “I found out my boyfriend… well, he was cheating on me. Tonight, of all nights.” She laughed sadly, brushing a tear away. “But I guess that’s how it goes.”
On impulse, I blurted, “Well… would you maybe like to get a coffee?”
She looked down at Ben, then back at me. “Actually… I’d love that.”
A smiling woman outside | Source: Midjourney
Over the next few months, I found myself at the shelter often. Sarah and I would meet there, talking for hours and helping out together.
The more time we spent, the closer we grew, both to each other and to Ben. He seemed to shine whenever we were all together, and soon the shelter felt like the home I hadn’t realized I’d been missing.
A happy family on a walk | Source: Midjourney
By the time the next Christmas rolled around, everything had changed. Sarah and I were now married, and Ben had officially become our son. That Christmas Eve, we went back to the square, the three of us hand in hand, surrounded by laughter and lights.
We watched the skaters, sipped our hot cocoa, and felt at peace as our own little family, a miracle in the making.
A happy family together | Source: Midjourney
Liked this story? Consider checking out this one: When Sutton is on a business trip, the last thing she expects to discover is that her husband is having an affair, resulting in a pregnancy. But after Jacob moves out, and the months go by, Sutton plans her revenge.
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.
Boy Goes to Visit Twin Brother’s Grave, Doesn’t Return Home Even at 11 p.m. — Story of the Day
It was a parent’s worst nightmare come true when the Wesenbergs lost their little son Ted one Sunday afternoon. Unfortunately, it happened in a place that was supposed to be the safest for the family, where nothing should have gone wrong, yet everything did.
The Wesenbergs found Ted dead in their swimming pool. His body was floating like a pool float, and Paul Wesenberg had dived into the water to save his son, but it was too late—neither his mouth-to-mouth nor the paramedics he’d dialed could bring his son back.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Linda Wesenberg couldn’t bear the sorrow of losing her son, and she sat as pale, numb, and motionless as her late son at his funeral. Then as a week went by without Ted in the Wesenberg household, things turned chaotic, brutal even, and so harsh that little Clark couldn’t stand it…
Linda and Paul were struggling to cope with their loss, and they fought every day, every time. Clark heard loud noises from his parents’ room every night, and his mommy would get frustrated and eventually cry.
His daddy would blame his mommy for Ted’s death, and his mommy would blame everything on his daddy. Clark hid under his blanket every night, clutching his teddy bear and sobbing whenever he heard his parents bickering.
No loss is so profound that love cannot heal it.
When Ted was there with him, things had been so different. Their parents rarely argued back then, and his mommy was never sad and upset. She would kiss him goodnight and hug him before she tucked him in bed, but she no longer did any of that now.
She had also stopped making breakfast and often stayed in bed, telling him she was ill. Paul always made them toast and eggs for breakfast now, and he had started arriving home early to prepare dinner for them, but his cooking was not even close to Linda’s.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Clark missed his brother. He missed Ted so badly that he wished he had gone to the place where his brother was… because their parents no longer cared about their son, who was still alive.
All they cared about was who was to blame for their other son’s death.
One evening, things went from bad to worse. Clark heard his parents arguing again, and he was so frustrated that he couldn’t stand it. “Mommy! Daddy! Please stop!” he yelled as he stormed into their bedroom. “Please stop! I don’t like it when you fight!”
“Look, Paul!” his mother hissed. “I lost Ted because of you, and now Clark hates you!”
“Oh really, Linda?” Paul shot back. “And what about you? I don’t think Clark’s in awe of you!”
Clark’s parents forgot he was in their room and continued to argue. They began blaming each other for Ted’s death again, and Clark decided he didn’t want to stay there any longer. Their home was filled with screams and tears since Ted left, and Clark had started despising his home.
“I hate you both…” he whispered, tears running down his cheeks. “I HATE YOU, MOMMY AND DADDY! I don’t want to live with you! I’m going to meet Ted because only he loved me!”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Ted ran away from his parents’ room and out the front door. He paused to collect the dahlias he and Ted grew in their garden before running away to Ted’s grave in the cemetery only blocks away from their home.
“Look, you made him cry again. I’m sure you’re relieved now!” Paul snarled.
“I made him cry? Stop acting like I’m the bad person here!”
Linda and Paul continued to bicker, unconcerned about their little son, who’d run away to the cemetery alone. Clark sobbed as he pressed his fingertips against his brother’s gravestone and ran his fingers over the inscription.
“In the beloved memory of Ted Wesenberg,” read the engraving.
Clark bawled his eyes out at the sight of his brother’s grave. He missed Ted so much!
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash
“I… I m—miss you, Ted,” he wept. “Could you please ask the angels to return you?”
“…and mommy and daddy are constantly arguing. Ted, they no longer love me. They hate me, and they don’t care about me. Could you please come back, Ted? Please? Nobody plays football with me, not even daddy…”
Clark had never felt so alone in his life. He placed the dahlias against his brother’s grave and sat down on the prickly grass, telling him about his heart’s concerns and how ignored and forgotten he felt.
Clark couldn’t stop crying as he told Ted how much he missed him, how difficult life was without him, and how much their parents had changed. He complained to him about the burnt breakfasts, how he had stopped growing dahlias, and how lonely he was.
Clark’s heart was so at ease after finally sharing his worries with his brother that he didn’t notice when the hours passed, and the sky darkened. The cemetery became deserted, and there wasn’t a single soul in sight. Yet, Clark decided not to go home because it was the first time since Ted’s death that he felt at peace.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Suddenly, he heard the rustling of dried leaves behind him. Clark looked around in fright. Who could’ve come to the gravesite at this hour? He sprang to his feet in terror as the sound grew louder and louder, still searching about.
Terrified he wasn’t alone, Clark whirled back to run, but he was too late. He saw several men clad in black robes approaching him. Their faces were obscured with hoods, and they held firebrands.
“See who has arrived in our dark kingdom! You shouldn’t have risked coming here, boy!” shouted one of the men.
“Who… who are you?” Clark asked in tears. “Please let me go!”
Clark was shaking in fear and didn’t know how to get himself out of trouble. The men didn’t let him leave.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash
Clark was terrified of the dudes in robes, but then he heard a man’s booming voice. “Chad, back off! How many times will I tell you not to gather in my graveyard with your idiotic pals dressed in cult garb?”
Clark noticed the tall, well-dressed man in his 50s, as he approached. “Don’t worry, boy,” he said to Clark. “These boys won’t do anything. They’re worse than kids!”
“Oh, c’mon, Mr. Bowen!” The dude who stood face-to-face with Clark pulled off his hood and sighed. “Where else are our cult’s activities intended to take place if not here in a cemetery?”
“How about you stop burning your lousy report cards here and start studying instead? Back off, or I’ll tell your mother you often smoke here! I’m sure you wouldn’t take that chance. Now, you,” he gestured to Clark. “Come here, kid. Let’s get you home.”
Mr. Bowen seemed like a nice man to Clark. He dashed up to him and grasped his outstretched arm. Mr. Bowen took the boy to a small cabin and served him hot chocolate.
“What were you doing here at this hour?” the older man asked Clark.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash
Mr. Bowen appeared to be a kind man, so Clark opened up to him about his parents and brother, how their lives had turned into a living hell since Ted died, and how he didn’t like his parents and didn’t want to go home.
***
Back home, Linda was panicking. She dialed Paul several times, but he wasn’t answering. It’d been over two hours since Paul left home after their quarrel.
She had been sitting at the kitchen table, venting to her friend on the phone all this while. As soon as she hung up and looked around, it hit her: Clark wasn’t around. Where’s Clark?
Linda’s heart was racing as she looked at the clock. It was past 11 p.m. when she checked Clark’s room and found him missing. Linda then went into the other rooms, the bathrooms, and the backyard, but Clark was nowhere to be found. To her, it was as if he’d vanished into thin air.
She called Paul again, no answer. “Pick your darn phone, Paul!” she cried. “Oh gosh! What do I do now?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Linda paced nervously in her living room. She had no idea where to look for Clark until… she remembered him coming into the bedroom when she and Paul were arguing.
“The cemetery!” she recalled. “He was going to meet Ted!”
Linda grabbed the house keys, locked the door, and hurried to the cemetery. As she turned to the first street, she saw Paul’s car. He pulled over and rolled down his window.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“Clark isn’t home yet!” she said, getting inside the car. “Drive to the cemetery now!”
“What the hell?” Paul cried, starting the engine. “But when… did he never come back?”
“No, Paul! We were, well…” she paused. “We were so busy arguing that we didn’t notice!”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Paul and Linda hurried to Ted’s grave as soon as they got to the cemetery. But there was no sign of Clark.
“Clark!” Linda shouted. “Honey, where are you?”
Right then, Paul nudged Linda. “Linda!” he cried. “What the hell is going on there!? Look!”
Paul and Linda were taken aback when they noticed a fire in the distance and heard voices performing chants. As they approached the gathering, they saw several teens dressed in black robes performing some sort of ceremony.
“Oh Lord,” Linda cried out. “Could they… have done something to Clark? Oh no, we’ve just lost Ted, and now—”
“Linda, no,” Paul consoled her. “Let’s not jump to any conclusions. Wait right here. Excuse me, boys,” he began hesitantly, approaching them. “Is it possible you saw this boy here…”
One of the boys smirked as Paul showed them a photo of Clark. “Your son arrived at the wrong place at the wrong time!” he shouted. “Your son should not have come!”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash
Paul looked intently at the teen, then at his friends. In those robes, they all appeared nothing but dumb, and they’d been burning what appeared to be their grade cards.
“Oh really?” he asked, putting his phone in his back pocket. “Well…” Paul grabbed the boy’s collar and yanked him forward.
“Listen, kid; You’d better speak out, or you’re going home with a broken nose!”
“Woah, woah, okay! Relax!” the boy Paul had warned said. “I’m…I’m Chad! And I saw your son. We did nothing to him! Mr. Bowen, the graveyard guard, grabbed him.”
“What?”
“He… he took your son, sir. I swear. He lives right outside the cemetery! We just come here every night to scare people, that’s all!”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash
***
When Paul and Linda arrived at Mr. Bowen’s cottage, they noticed Clark and Mr. Bowen seated on a sofa through the window. The parents wanted to burst inside and hug their son but stopped in their tracks when they overheard him talking.
Paul and Linda were embarrassed. They listened in tears and shock as Clark spoke about his heart’s worries, and Mr. Bowen advised him to reconcile with his parents. “They still adore you, little boy,” the older man said. “Look, kid. I lost my wife and child. Their plane crashed, and I’ve lived in this nightmare for years, missing them every single day and night. What’s happened in your family is any parent’s worst nightmare come true. How about we be kinder to them?”
Clark agreed, nodding at some point.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash
Instead of grieving the loss of what you don’t have, take the opportunity to appreciate what you do have.
Paul and Linda could no longer wait.
“I’m so sorry, honey!” Linda cried as she and Paul stormed into the cottage. She held her boy close as her tears flowed freely.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash
Paul looked at Mr. Bowen apologetically and thanked him for saving Clark. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you so much for what you did for our family just now.”
“No problem. I know the hell you’re going through. So, I understand. Hang in there.”
Eventually, Mr. Bowen became the Wesenbergs’ close friend. In months, idyll returned to this family’s household. They could heal from Ted’s loss and finally look at life positively.
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