A grieving, lonely fisherman found hope and a reason to live when he discovered a baby boy abandoned on his doorstep. He adopted the boy and raised him with boundless love and pride. But 17 years later, a wealthy stranger arrived, threatening to tear their world apart and take the boy away.
The weathered fishing boat rocked gently against the dock as Lucas secured the last knot. At 54, his calloused hands moved with practiced ease, even as arthritis crept into his joints.
The small house on the village outskirts waited for him, just as it had every evening since Maria passed. No children’s laughter, no warm embrace — just the quiet company of his thoughts and the photos of the woman he’d loved too much to replace.
A man tying a boat | Source: Midjourney
“Evening, Lucas!” Old Tom called from his porch. “Good catch today?”
“Just enough,” Lucas answered, lifting his basket. “The fish aren’t as lonely as we are, eh?”
“You ought to get yourself a dog at least,” Tom suggested, not for the first time. “That cottage needs some life in it.”
Lucas smiled politely but said nothing. Maria had loved dogs. That was reason enough not to get one.
A sad man standing outside his cottage | Source: Midjourney
The flames danced in the fireplace as he settled into his chair, another solitary evening stretching before him. The day’s routine played through his mind: watering the tomatoes at dawn, feeding the chickens, and walking the empty streets to his boat.
He glanced at Maria’s photo on the mantel. “Should’ve listened when you wanted children,” he murmured. “Always said we had time. Now look at me, talking to your picture like you might answer back.”
Suddenly, a sound cut through his thoughts, faint but distinct. It was like a whimper or a cry carried on the winter wind. Lucas lowered his coffee cup and listened. There it was again, more insistent this time.
A man sitting by the fireplace | Source: Midjourney
His joints protested as he rose and shuffled to the door. The porch boards creaked beneath his feet as he peered into the darkness. Another cry, clearer now.
“Hello?” he called, but only silence answered.
His heart nearly stopped when he saw it — a woven basket on his doorstep, blankets stirring inside. As he knelt beside it, tiny fingers reached up, grasping at the cold night air.
“Dear God,” he whispered, gathering the bundle into his arms. A baby boy, no more than a few months old, stared up at him with big, curious eyes.
A baby wrapped in blankets in a basket | Source: Midjourney
“Where did you come from, little one?” Lucas scanned the empty street, but whoever had left this precious cargo was long gone, leaving just a note in the basket:
“Don’t look for me. Please take care of him. And love him like your own. Thanks & Goodbye.”
The baby whimpered, and Lucas felt something stir in his chest. It was an emotion he thought had died with Maria.
“Shh, it’s alright,” he soothed, cradling the child close. “Let’s get you warm. Maria,” he whispered to the night sky, “I think you might’ve had a hand in this. You always said miracles come when we least expect them.”
A man holding a baby | Source: Unsplash
Inside, Lucas wrapped the baby in one of Maria’s old quilts, its faded flowers still soft after all these years. The infant’s cries settled into gentle coos as Lucas warmed some milk on the stove, remembering how old Tom’s daughter used to feed her babies.
“You need a name, little one,” he murmured, testing the milk’s temperature on his wrist. The baby’s tiny fingers wrapped around his weathered thumb, holding on with surprising strength. “You’ve got a good grip there. Like a fisherman.”
The baby gurgled, his eyes fixed on Lucas’s face with what seemed like curiosity. A tear rolled down Lucas’s cheek as he remembered Maria’s words from years ago:“A child’s love is the purest thing in this world.”
A baby covered in a cozy white blanket | Source: Unsplash
“Matias,” he said softly, the name coming to him like a whisper from the past. It was Maria’s father’s name, a good strong name for a boy. “What do you think about that, little one? Would you like to be Matias?”
The baby cooed, a smile breaking across his tiny face. Lucas felt his heart melt completely.
“Then it’s decided. You’ll be my son, Matias. I may not have much, but everything I have is yours. We’ll figure this out together.”
A man holding a baby | Source: Midjourney
That night, Lucas made a makeshift crib from an old wooden crate, lining it with soft blankets. He placed it next to his bed, unable to bear the thought of the child being alone in another room.
As moonlight filtered through the window, he watched Matias’s chest steadily rise and fall.
“I promise you,” he whispered, reaching down to touch the baby’s velvet cheek, “I’ll be the father you deserve.”
The baby slept peacefully, one tiny hand still curled around Lucas’s finger, as if already knowing he was home.
A baby holding a man’s finger | Source: Pexels
Seventeen years passed like leaves on the wind.
The garden grew fuller, nourished by the sound of Matias’s laughter. Every morning, Lucas would wake to find Matias already in the garden, talking to the chickens as he fed them.
“Morning, Dad!” Matias would call out. “Rosa laid two eggs today. She’s your favorite, isn’t she?”
“Just like you’re my favorite son,” Lucas would reply with a wink.
“I’m your only son,” Matias would laugh, the sound warming Lucas’s heart more than any summer sun.
A cheerful teenage boy laughing | Source: Midjourney
One morning, as they worked together in the garden, Matias looked up suddenly. “Dad? Remember when you told me about finding me?”
Lucas’s hands stilled on the tomato vines. “Of course.”
“Were you… were you ever sorry? That someone left me here?”
Lucas pulled his son close, soil-covered hands and all. “Matias, you weren’t left here. You were given to me. The greatest gift I’ve ever received.”
“Even greater than when Mom said yes to marrying you?” Matias asked, his voice muffled against Lucas’s shirt.
“She would have loved you to the moon and back,” Lucas said, his voice rough with emotion. “Sometimes I see her in the way you tend to these plants. She had that same gentle touch.”
A cheerful older man smiling | Source: Midjourney
Each morning, Lucas watched his son devour breakfast before school, marveling at how the abandoned baby had grown into this bright, energetic young man. Matias’s eyes — so mysterious that first night — now sparkled with intelligence and mischief.
“Dad!” he called, bursting through the door after school. “Coach says I might make team captain next season!”
Lucas looked up from his fishing nets, pride warming his weathered face. “That’s my boy. Your mother would have—” He caught himself, as he sometimes did, speaking of Maria as if she were Matias’s birth mother.
A delighted teenage boy at the doorway | Source: Midjourney
“Tell me about her again?” Matias asked softly. “About how she used to garden? How she’d sing while cooking?”
“Another time, son. These nets won’t mend themselves.”
“You always say that,” Matias teased, grabbing an apple from the bowl. “One day you’ll run out of nets to mend, and then you’ll have to tell me everything.”
“Everything, eh?” Lucas chuckled. “Like how you used to think the chickens laid different colored eggs because they ate rainbow seeds?”
Suddenly, the screech of tires outside cut through their comfortable chatter. Through the window, Lucas watched a sleek red Mercedes pull up. It looked completely out of place in their humble neighborhood, like a peacock in a chicken coop.
A red car outside a cottage | Source: Midjourney
A tall man in an expensive suit emerged from the car, his shoes too shiny for their dusty street. He approached with purpose, each step measured and confident.
The knock, when it came, seemed to echo through the house.
“Can I help you?” Lucas asked, opening the door just wide enough.
“Mr. Lucas?” The man’s voice was cultured and careful. “I’m Elijah. We need to talk about the boy. I’m here to take him.”
A rich, suited man at a doorway | Source: Midjourney
The words hit Lucas like a gut punch. He had always lived in constant fear of their peaceful life being shattered. But he never imagined it would happen so quickly.
“Who on earth are you? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, his fingers tightening on the doorframe until his knuckles went white.
“I think you do.” Elijah’s eyes fixed on a point over Lucas’s shoulder. “Hello, Matias.”
“How do you know my name?” Matias stepped forward, despite Lucas’s protective arm.
“Because you’re my nephew and I’ve been looking for you for 17 years.” Elijah’s voice softened. “May I come in? This isn’t a conversation for doorways.”
A startled teenage boy | Source: Midjourney
Lucas felt his legs go weak, but he stepped aside. In the living room, Matias sat close to him on the worn sofa, their shoulders touching.
“You can’t just come in here,” Lucas said, his voice trembling. “You can’t just walk into our lives after 17 years and—”
“Dad,” Matias touched his arm gently. “Let’s hear him out.”
The story spilled out like water from a broken dam. Elijah spoke of his sister — Matias’s mother — of her struggles, her disappearance, and her deathbed confession just weeks ago.
A shocked senior man | Source: Midjourney
“She was young and scared,” Elijah explained, his perfectly manicured hands clasped in his lap. “Our father wouldn’t have understood. She ran away with you after her boyfriend, your dad, dumped her, hoping you could have a better life than she could provide at that time.”
“So she left me on a doorstep?” Matias’s voice cracked. “Like I was NOTHING?”
“She watched,” Elijah said softly. “She watched Lucas take you in. Watched from afar as you grew. She chose this house because she’d seen Lucas with his wife, before. She knew you’d be loved here. She told us everything when we found her, after 17 exhausting years.”
A man staring at someone | Source: Midjourney
“You have to understand,” Elijah continued, turning to Lucas, “he’s all we have left of her. And there’s so much waiting for him. The best schools, connections, opportunities. A life beyond…” he gestured at their modest surroundings.
“This life,” Lucas interrupted, his voice fierce, “has been filled with more love than any luxurious mansion could hold.”
“Dad, please,” Matias whispered, squeezing his hand.
A distressed older man holding his head | Source: Midjourney
“He’s right though, isn’t he?” Lucas’s voice broke. “You deserve more than fish nets and vegetable gardens. More than an old man’s company.”
“He deserves a better life,” Elijah chimed in.
“I want to go,” Matias said softly after a long silence.
Lucas turned, stung. The words felt like Maria dying all over again.
“Son—”
An emotional teenage boy with his eyes downcast | Source: Midjourney
“Just to know them. To understand.” Matias’s eyes pleaded for understanding. “I’ll come back, Dad. I promise. I need to know where I came from to know where I’m going.”
“Of course you will.” Lucas forced the words past the lump in his throat. “This is your home. It always will be.”
The goodbye was quick, too quick for 17 years of love. Lucas helped pack a bag, his hands shaking as he folded Matias’s favorite blue sweater, the one he’d saved three months of fishing money to buy.
An emotional man holding a blue sweater | Source: Midjourney
“The garden,” Matias said suddenly, pausing at the door. “Don’t let it die while I’m gone. Mom’s roses especially.”
Lucas nodded, not trusting his voice.
“I’ll call every day,” Matias promised, hugging him fiercely. “Every single day. And I’ll be back before you know it.”
Lucas stood in the doorway, watching the red Mercedes disappear, taking his heart with it. The last thing he saw was Matias’s face turned backward, watching him through the rear window, pressing his hand against the glass.
A boy sitting in a car | Source: Midjourney
Days blurred together. And the silence around Lucas grew heavier with each passing week.
Matias’s calls came regularly at first, full of wonder at his new world. Then, less frequently, shorter, until they felt like conversations with a stranger.
The vegetables ripened and died on the vine. Lucas couldn’t bear to pick them up without Matias’s help. Even the chickens seemed to miss him. Rosa wouldn’t lay eggs for days, and the others pecked listlessly at their feed.
“He’s not coming back, is he, girl?” Lucas murmured to Rosa one morning. “Can’t blame him. Who’d choose this hut over the castle they’re offering him?”
A sad older man hugging a chicken | Source: Midjourney
Every night, he’d sit in Matias’s room, looking at the soccer trophies, the school photos, and the little seashell collection they’d gathered together over the years.
“He’s living the life he deserves,” Lucas told Maria’s picture each night. “The life you’d have wanted for our own. But God, I miss him. Miss him like I miss you.”
The house felt bigger somehow. And emptier. The silence was no longer peaceful but oppressive. Lucas found himself talking to the chickens more, just to hear a voice — any voice — in the yard.
A teary-eyed older man sitting in a chair | Source: Midjourney
Then, one evening, a knock came at the door as Lucas sat staring at his untouched dinner. Different from that first time. Softer, uncertain.
He opened the door to find Matias standing there, shoulders slumped and eyes red.
“I couldn’t sleep,” Matias said simply. “The beds are too soft and the house is too big. Everything’s too much and not enough.”
“Son, what are you—”
A heartbroken boy holding his head | Source: Midjourney
“They’re nice, Dad. They’re my blood. But you’re…” Matias’s voice broke. “You’re my FATHER! The only one I’ve ever needed. The only one I’ll ever need. I can’t be without you.”
“The chickens have been clucking your name all day!” Lucas joked, wiping away a tear.
“Just the chickens?” Matias managed a watery smile.
Tears welled in Lucas’s eyes as he looked at his son, his heart overflowing with love and pride. “What about your uncle?”
An emotional older man crying | Source: Midjourney
“Don’t worry, Dad. I’m sure he’ll come for me again. But this time, I’m not leaving you… no matter what.”
Lucas pulled him close, feeling the tears soaking into his shirt. “Welcome home, son! Welcome home.”
As they walked into the house, Matias looked around, his face glowing with nostalgia and relief. He took Lucas’s hand, holding it tightly as if to make up for the weeks they’d been apart. They knew they were all each other needed.
Silhouette of a man with a teenage boy | Source: Midjourney
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.
My Kids Listed My House on Airbnb While I Was in the Hospital — I Found a Way to Teach Them a Lesson
Mariah had been feeling less than healthy lately, causing her to admit herself to the hospital so that she could have a check-up. But in her absence, her children decided to rent out her house as an Airbnb, ready to pocket the money for themselves. When Mariah found out, she decided to teach her children a lesson.
“Mariah,” my friend Liz said on the phone, “why on earth is your house listed as an Airbnb?”
A phone opened to an Airbnb app | Source: Pexels
“What?” I asked, completely confused. “What are you talking about?”
“Denise was looking for a house to rent for the weekend because it’s her bachelorette weekend, and she came across your house. Aren’t you still in the hospital?” she asked.
A group of women | Source: Midjourney
“Liz, I truly have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, looking at the IV drip away into my bloodstream. “Send me the link to the site Denise saw.”
This is how I taught my children a valuable lesson:
Recently, my blood pressure had been all over the place, causing me to faint at odd moments.
A close-up of an IV | Source: Midjourney
“Mom,” my son, Liam, said, “you need to get it checked out. There’s no point in going to the pharmacy and getting medication over the counter just because you think it’s going to help. You need to get everything assessed properly.”
“And you need to start eating better,” Leah, my daughter, said. “Having oats in the morning, toast during the day, and soup at night isn’t a balanced diet. You’re playing with your health. It’s time to take things seriously.”
A counter at a pharmacy | Source: Midjourney
Leah moved around my kitchen, slicing vegetables to make a salad to go along with the grilled chicken she had been marinating.
“And what about your constant headaches? It’s time to get everything checked out. You should go into the hospital and do a full check-up,” Liam said.
A plate of grilled chicken and salad | Source: Midjourney
“But I feel fine, other than the headaches and dizziness; I’m good!” I retorted.
Both my kids snorted and rolled their eyes at me.
“Do it, Mom,” Leah said, pointing her finger at me.
A young woman pointing and smiling | Source: Midjourney
I had to agree with them. I had been downplaying my health lately. I still walked every second day and did as much yoga as my body would allow during the week.
But still, there was a nagging feeling that something could be wrong.
Women at a yoga class | Source: Midjourney
“Just go to silence that feeling,” Liz said when we met for smoothies after our yoga class one day.
“But what if we find something?” I asked, suddenly nervous to be speaking my thoughts out loud.
“Then, we’ll deal with it together. I know that Paul isn’t here anymore, but I’m here,” Liz said. “And anyway, we need you up and running for Denise’s wedding. I don’t know how to do the mother-of-the-bride things.”
A close-up of smoothies | Source: Midjourney
“I’ll go to the GP and take it from there,” I said. “If he thinks that it’s the way to go, then I’ll do just that.”
“Yes, Mariah,” the doctor said. “I think it’s a great idea for you to go for a full-body check-up. There’s nothing wrong with just knowing your health and body. And I’ll recommend a CT scan for your headaches, too.”
A doctor putting on gloves | Source: Pexels
Which is how I ended up at the hospital, and how my children chose to take advantage of the situation.
“I’ll bring your lunch soon,” the nurse said, smiling at me. “You just rest after your CT scan.”
“Thank you,” I said. “I’m just going to call my best friend and catch up with her.”
A smiling nurse holding a clipboard | Source: Midjourney
Catching up with Liz meant that hearing that my children had let my house out as an Airbnb for the week that I was scheduled to be in the hospital.
“So, what are you going to do about it?” Liz asked me when I called her back after I confirmed that it was my house on the site.
A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But I want to teach them a lesson. Leah and Liam should have known better. But Leah and her husband are always looking for ways to make extra money. I’m sure that Andrew has a gambling problem, too.”
“Tell me what you want me to do,” Liz said, chewing something into my ear.
A couple playing poker | Source: Pexels
“I want you to tell Denise to book it,” I said. “But they’ll recognize that it’s her, so she’s probably going to need to create a new account. Do you think she’ll be okay with that?”
“Of course, she will!” Liz said. “Anything for you. But then what?”
“I’m getting discharged tomorrow,” I said. “But the kids think that I’ll be here until the end of the week. So, let them think that they’re going to make some money off the place.”
A close-up of a woman’s IV and hospital band | Source: Midjourney
“You want Denise to rent the place, but you want to mess it up?” Liz chuckled. “That’s devious.”
“No, my children are devious,” I said.
I hung up the call, and the nurse brought my lunch to me, ready to leave me alone to eat while she did her rounds.
A tray of hospital food | Source: Midjourney
If I was being honest, I didn’t know how I felt about my children’s betrayal. But it hurt me to imagine that while I had been away at the hospital, my children were perfectly fine with having strangers take over my home.
“What were they thinking?” I asked myself.
They hadn’t given a second thought to people using the mugs I had hand-painted, or people sitting in their father’s worn armchair. Paul has been deceased for a few years now, but it still felt like his chair.
An armchair in a living room | Source: Midjourney
“No,” I said to myself. “I’m going to get back at these kids.”
The next morning, I was discharged with a clean bill of health, despite warnings to keep my stress down.
“And keep an eye on your cholesterol, Mariah,” my doctor said. “Eat lots of green leafy vegetables.”
Leafy vegetables on a countertop | Source: Midjourney
I drove myself to Liz’s house, where I was going to wait for Denise to meet me with the keys to my house.
“Are you sure about this?” Liz asked, making me a cup of tea and buttering a lemon and poppy seed muffin.
“Yes,” I said. “And this way, they’ll truly have to feel accountable for their actions.”
A cup of tea with a muffin | Source: Midjourney
I went home a few hours later. There was something different about the house. The smell was different, and I knew for sure that someone else had been staying there.
There was a sweet perfume scent that took over my usual woody-scented house.
I had a long shower, ready to wash away the scent of the hospital that clung to my skin. I was ready for a long sleep in my own bed.
A comfortable bed | Source: Midjourney
For tomorrow, the fun began.
The next morning, I made myself some breakfast and dutifully took the array of vitamins and supplements that the doctor had given me.
Then, I began to pack away all of my appliances.
Appliances in the trunk of a car | Source: Midjourney
“Where are you going to put everything?” Liz asked me when she came over.
“I’m going to put some into the trunk of my car, and we can hide the rest in the garage for now,” I said.
Together, Liz and I emptied out the house, leaving only the old toaster behind.
“Come on,” Liz said, linking her arm in mine. “Let’s get you out of here.”
An old toaster in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
I waited until Friday, staying with Liz. And then I drove myself home that afternoon.
“Hi Mom!” Leah said excitedly when she saw me pull into the driveway.
“Hi, honey,” I said, taking out my bag from the backseat.
We walked into the house, and there were entirely new appliances all over my kitchen.
A kitchen with new appliances | Source: Midjourney
“What’s all this?” I asked, pretending to be shocked.
“Liam and I thought that you deserved new things!” Leah said, looking at the floor as she spoke.
“No, you didn’t,” I said. “You came back to my home when your guest was supposed to check out and you found everything gone.”
Leah stared at me with her mouth open.
A shocked young woman | Source: Midjourney
“You know?” she said.
“Of course, I do!” I exclaimed. “I took everything! You needed to be taught a lesson. Why would you let my house out?”
Leah blinked slowly.
“Mom,” she said softly. “I’m so sorry. Andrew and I thought that it would be a good idea because it seemed like a great opportunity to make some extra money. Liam said that it was okay as long as nothing was broken.”
A close-up of a young woman | Source: Midjourney
“Darling,” I said, hugging her. “You can’t do this. If you and Andrew need money, you come and talk to me about it. Don’t do things like this. It’s going to ruin our trust.”
My daughter smiled and took my bag from me.
“Come,” she said. “I’ll make you some tea with the new kettle. I’ll return everything else tomorrow. And the money is all yours.”
A fancy kettle on a countertop | Source: Midjourney
Leave a Reply