Boy Drops a Letter into an Abandoned House’s Mailbox, Receives a Mysterious Reply the Next Day — Story of the Day

Ethan, a six-year-old little boy with curly brown hair, felt a constant weight on his chest since his mother passed away. His father, Jacob, seemed lost in his world of grief.

Jacob used to be a lively and attentive father, but now he barely noticed Ethan, spending most of his time staring at old photos or working late to avoid the empty house.

“Mom, I miss you so much,” Ethan whispered to his toy car.

He often imagined his mother traveling with him in the little car.

Ethan missed her gentle voice, warm hugs, and reading bedtime stories with her every night. In his loneliness, he began writing letters to her.

“Dear Mom,

Today was another hard day without you. I miss you so much. Dad is really sad too. I don’t think he notices me much anymore. I wish you were here to hug me and tell me everything will be okay.

Love, Ethan”

He poured his heart into those letters and hoped she would hear him.

One day, while wandering around his neighborhood, Ethan stumbled upon an old, abandoned house. The paint was peeling, the windows were boarded up, and the garden was overgrown with weeds.

“Hey, Mom,” Ethan said to his toy car, “look at this old house. It’s kind of spooky but also cool, right?”

He walked closer, curiosity driving him.

Ethan saw the rusty mailbox at the front gate. That day, he had brought one of his letters with him, tucked safely in his jeans pocket, intending to read it to his mom in a quiet spot. Ethan just slipped it inside the mailbox, thinking no one would ever see him.

“Mom, I’m leaving this letter here,” he whispered. “It will be our secret.”

He took a step back and looked at the house again.

“Do you think anyone lives here?” he asked his car, imagining his mother’s voice answering. “Probably not, but it’s a good place for my letter.”

Ethan stood there for a moment longer, feeling a bit silly but also comforted by the act.

“Okay, let’s go home now,” he said to the car. “Maybe we’ll come back tomorrow.”

As he walked home, his mind wandered to thoughts of his mother, picturing her reading his letter and smiling.

“I hope you like my letters, Mom,” he whispered, clutching the toy car even tighter. “I’ll keep writing them, I promise.”

When he reached his house, his dad was still sitting at the table in the living room. Ethan paused at the doorway, watching his father for a moment.

“Dad,” he said quietly, but Jacob didn’t respond. Sighing, Ethan headed to his room, pulling out another piece of paper to write another letter to his mom.

“Dear Mom,” he began, “I found a new place to leave my letters for you. It’s an old, abandoned house, and it feels like a special spot just for us…”

As he wrote, he felt the sadness lifting just a little, finding solace in the connection created, even if it was only in his imagination.

“Goodnight, Mom,” he whispered to the toy car on his bedside table before drifting off to sleep.

***

The next day, Ethan felt a strange urge to visit the abandoned house again. He wanted to leave his new letter in that mailbox.

As he approached the gate, he noticed something different. The mailbox was slightly open. Ethan’s heart raced as he looked around.

Inside, he found a folded piece of paper. It was a letter addressed to … him. He unfolded it and began to read.

“Dear Ethan,” it started. “Thank you for sharing your beautiful words. Your letters have touched my heart. Please don’t stop writing. With love, Clara.”

Ethan was so absorbed in the letter that he didn’t hear the front door of the house creak open. A woman stepped out quietly.

She was older, with silver hair and kind, but sad eyes. She watched Ethan read her letter, a gentle smile forming on her face.

Suddenly, Ethan felt a presence and looked up, startled. He nearly dropped the letter.

“Oh! I’m sorry!” he exclaimed, taking a step back. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

The woman held up her hand in a calming gesture. “It’s alright, dear,” she said softly. “I’m Clara. I’ve been reading your letter.”

Ethan blinked in surprise. “You…you read them?”

Clara nodded. “Yes, and they’ve brought me a lot of comfort. Your letter reminded me of my own son. I lost my family years ago.”

“I miss my mom so much,” Ethan said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Clara stepped closer, her eyes filled with empathy.

“I know, Ethan. Grief is a heavy burden to carry. But sharing your feelings, even through letters, can help lighten that load.”

A loud, angry voice interrupted them just then, “Clara!”

A tall, stern-looking man marched towards them. “It’s time you left, Clara,” Mr. Harrow said harshly. “You’ve had enough time to grieve. This house belonged to my brother, and now it’s mine.”

Clara stood her ground, her eyes blazing. “There was no will, Mr. Harrow. My husband died young, along with our son. Your so-called will is a forgery!”

Mr. Harrow sneered, “You have no choice. I’m taking the house. You’ve overstayed your welcome.”

As Ethan stepped forward, trying to understand the situation, Mr. Harrow finally noticed him. “And who is this? Why are kids wandering around my property?”

Ethan, clutching his letter, stammered, “I…I was just leaving a letter for my mom…”

Mr. Harrow’s eyes narrowed, “Letter? What letter?”

He snatched the letter from Ethan’s hands and started tearing it up. “You’re littering this place with your trash!”

Ethan’s heart broke as he saw pieces of his letters flutter to the grass. He watched helplessly as Mr. Harrow destroyed his heartfelt messages.

Then Clara stepped forward and said, “How could you do that? He’s just a child, grieving his mother.”

But Ethan already run away, his mind racing.

“Why was Mr. Harrow so mean? And why did he want to remove Clara from her house? She seems so nice,” he whispered to his toy car as he ran. “Mom, what should I do?”

He knew he had to do something, but he wasn’t sure what. All he knew was that he couldn’t let Mr. Harrow win. Clara needed help, and maybe, just maybe, his father could provide it.

Breathless, Ethan clutched his toy car tighter, “I won’t let him hurt Clara, Mom. I promise I’ll help her.”

***

Distraught, Ethan burst through the front door, tears streaming down his face.

“Dad! Dad, I need your help!” he shouted, rushing into the kitchen where Jacob was sitting.

Jacob looked up, startled, “Ethan, what’s wrong?”

“It’s Mr. Harrow! He wants to kick Clara out of her house! He tore up my letters, Dad. We have to help her!” Ethan pleaded.

Jacob sighed and rubbed his temples, clearly confused.

“Ethan, calm down. I don’t understand. Who is Mr. Harrow? Who is Clara? And what letters are you talking about?”

Ethan continued to cry out, his words slurred, “Clara.. abandoned … letters .. for Mom! Mr. Harrow! Tore them up!”

Jacob didn’t want to deal with the situation and tried to calm Ethan down.

“Ethan, stop shouting. This isn’t our problem. You shouldn’t be getting involved in things that don’t concern you.”

Ethan was still in a panic and didn’t calm down. He continued to cry and plead with his father.

Jacob was frustrated and did not fully understand the situation. He took the torn pieces of the letters from Ethan’s hands. “That’s enough, Ethan. You need to go to your room and think about your behavior.”

Ethan felt utterly helpless, and ran out of the house, slamming the door behind him. His heart pounded as he ran towards the police station, determined to find someone who would listen and help Clara.

***

When Ethan arrived at the station, which was on the next street, he breathlessly explained everything to the officer at the desk, hoping they would take action.

“Officer, please, you have to help! Mr. Harrow is trying to kick Clara out of her house! He tore up my letters, and he’s being so mean!” Ethan exclaimed, tears streaming down his face.

The officer listened patiently, nodding as Ethan spoke.

“Calm down, son,” he said gently. “I understand you’re upset, but Mr. Harrow has already informed us about this. He’s claiming the house is rightfully his.”

Ethan’s eyes widened in disbelief. “But Clara lives there! It’s her home!”

The officer sighed and continued, “The problem is, Clara doesn’t have any documents to prove ownership of the house. She mentioned she lost them. Without those papers, there’s not much we can do.”

Ethan felt a lump in his throat, “But that’s not fair! She’s lived there for so long! You have to help her!”

The officer shook his head sympathetically. “I’m sorry, Ethan. I know this is hard for you to understand, but without those documents, Mr. Harrow has the legal right to the property. It’s best if you go home now. I’ll walk you back.”

Feeling defeated, Ethan nodded slowly.

“Okay,” he whispered, his voice trembling. The officer took Ethan’s hand and guided him out of the station.

***

When they arrived at his house, a worried Jacob had just returned home.

“Ethan, where have you been?” he demanded. “I’ve been searching for you at all the neighbors’ houses.”

Ethan looked down, “I went to the police, Dad. I thought they could help.”

Jacob sighed deeply and pulled Ethan into a hug, “I’m not mad, Ethan. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”