Martha made it her mission to ensure her daughter’s success: numerous classes, a violin teacher, and daily chores. Martha was certain that all of it would help Ellie find happiness. But after participating in a “Best Mother” contest with her neighbors, she realized what being a mother truly meant.
Martha and her cheerful neighbor Jen strolled up the pathway to Lois’s house, the faint scent of freshly trimmed grass mingling with the floral perfume wafting from Lois’s garden.
As the door swung open, there stood Lois, her impeccably styled hair and tailored outfit a testament to her attention to detail.
“Welcome, ladies,” Lois greeted them with a smile that hinted at smugness. She grandly gestured for them to enter.
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“Come in, come in.”
Jen, ever the social butterfly, stepped in first. “Wow, Lois, your home looks stunning as always!” she said, her tone warm and genuine.
“I can’t wait to hear what’s new with you.”
Martha followed, already feeling a knot tighten in her stomach. For her, stepping into Lois’s house wasn’t just a visit — it was entering enemy territory.
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Lois wasn’t just a neighbor; she was Martha’s unspoken rival, someone who always seemed to flaunt her accomplishments.
Lois led them into the living room, a space that looked like it had been pulled straight out of a magazine. Every piece of furniture was perfectly coordinated, and the room practically sparkled.
“Let me show you something,” Lois said, her voice dripping with pride. She motioned to a set of plants lining the windowsill.
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“These are imported from Italy. Aren’t they divine? They really bring a sense of elegance to the room.”
“Oh, they’re gorgeous!” Jen said, leaning in for a closer look. “You have such a knack for decorating, Lois.”
Martha, however, merely nodded, forcing a tight smile. To her, this wasn’t about plants — it was Lois reminding everyone how much better she was.
The tightness in Martha’s jaw betrayed her efforts to stay calm.
“And look at this,” Lois continued, picking up a delicate tea set from the table.
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“It’s made from a rare ceramic. Took weeks to arrive, but it was worth it, don’t you think?”
Jen clapped her hands together.
“Beautiful! You really know how to choose the best.”
As the women settled into their chairs, Jen suddenly lit up with an idea.
“You know what we should do? Let’s have a little contest this weekend — a ‘Best Mom’ competition!”
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Lois raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“Yeah!” Jen said, her excitement growing.
“Each of us can cook a dish, show off our homes, and have our kids perform something. It’ll be fun! A little family-friendly rivalry never hurt anyone.”
While Jen imagined a fun, lighthearted event, Martha and Lois exchanged glances.
To them, this was more than a casual game — it was a chance to prove who was better. Both women nodded without hesitation, their competitive spirits igniting.
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“Sounds perfect,” Lois said, her tone sharp and confident.
“I’m in,” Martha added, determined not to be outdone.
Jen clapped her hands together.
“This will be so much fun!” she exclaimed, oblivious to the subtle tension simmering between her neighbors.
Back home, Martha stood in the kitchen, her mind already racing with ideas for the competition.
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She called out sharply, “Ellie! Come here, please!” Her voice echoed through the house, urgency clear in her tone.
Ellie appeared moments later, her hair slightly messy from playing outside. “What’s up, Mom?” she asked, her cheerful demeanor lighting up the room.
Martha wasted no time.
“This weekend, we’re participating in a competition with Lois and Jen — a ‘Best Mom’ contest. We need to give it everything we’ve got. Our family’s reputation is on the line.”
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Ellie’s smile faltered slightly, sensing the weight in her mother’s voice. But she nodded quickly, her usual optimism kicking in.
“Don’t worry, Mom. I won’t let you down. I’ll do my best.”
Martha gave her a brisk nod. “Good. Let’s get started.”
They dove into the first task: cooking. Martha had decided on her famous apple pie, a recipe she knew could impress.
She meticulously instructed Ellie; from peeling the apples to mixing the dough.
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“No, not like that,” Martha corrected when Ellie tried rolling out the crust. “It needs to be perfect.”
Ellie smiled nervously and adjusted her technique. “Got it, Mom.”
Despite the sharpness in Martha’s tone, Ellie didn’t complain. She softly hummed as she worked, trying to stay positive.
The kitchen smelled heavenly as the pie baked, its golden crust a testament to their hard work.
Next, Martha dragged Ellie outside to inspect the lawn.
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“We can’t have a single weed or blade of grass out of place,” she declared, bending down to straighten a flower. They worked side by side, ensuring every detail was flawless.
Finally, they moved to Ellie’s room to rehearse her violin performance. Ellie set up her sheet music, her fingers slightly trembling as she began to play.
Halfway through, she stumbled on a note, her nerves taking over.
“Ellie, focus!” Martha snapped, her frustration clear. “You need to get this right.”
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Ellie’s cheeks reddened, and she swallowed hard.
“I will, Mom. Let me try again.”
As she lifted the bow to the strings, the pressure in the room felt almost tangible.
Ellie pushed forward, determined to meet her mother’s expectations, even as the weight of it all began to build.
The day of the competition dawned bright and chilly. Neighbors gathered in the crisp morning air, chatting excitedly as the three contestants prepared for their first challenge.
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Martha stood near her table, carefully arranging her apple pie on a decorative platter.
Nearby, Jen cheerfully set out her mac and cheese, and Lois placed her lasagna with an air of confidence that made Martha’s jaw tighten.
Nigel, the elderly man appointed judge from across the street, shuffled forward to begin the tasting.
His reputation for fairness and thoughtful opinions made him the perfect choice. He picked up his fork with a kind smile and approached Jen’s dish.
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“Mac and cheese,” he remarked, taking a bite. Jen’s sons watched with wide, eager eyes as he chewed thoughtfully. Finally, he smiled warmly.
“Simple but comforting. Well done.”
Jen grinned, clearly pleased. “Thank you, Nigel!”
Next, Nigel turned to Martha’s apple pie. Martha clasped her hands tightly, her stomach churning with nerves as he sliced into the golden crust. He took a bite, his face betraying nothing as he chewed.
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Then, with a small nod of approval, he said, “Lovely balance of flavors. A classic done right.”
Martha exhaled in relief, allowing herself a small smile. But that relief was short-lived as Nigel moved to Lois’s table.
Her lasagna, perfectly layered with bubbling cheese and a rich tomato sauce, looked straight out of a cooking show.
Nigel took one bite, then another, and another, finishing the entire serving.
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“Well,” he said with a chuckle, wiping his mouth. “This lasagna is exceptional. The first point goes to Lois.”
Lois beamed while Martha’s face fell.
“It’s just one round,” she muttered under her breath, trying to stay composed. She quickly urged Nigel to begin the next stage.
Nigel moved from house to house, inspecting the exteriors.
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Jen’s home was charming, with bright flowers in simple pots, but Nigel seemed more impressed by Martha’s perfectly manicured lawn and vibrant flower beds.
“This is beautiful,” he declared, awarding Martha the point for the best exterior. Martha felt a rush of satisfaction as Lois’s expression soured.
Finally, it was time for the last round: the children’s performances. Pam, Lois’s daughter, was first.
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She stepped forward confidently to sing but faltered midway, her voice cracking. Her face flushed, and she ran off, refusing to continue.
Martha smirked, feeling her chances of winning improve.
Next, Jen’s sons performed. Their dance routine was unpolished, but their playful energy and heartfelt song about their mom touched the audience.
“She’s our superhero,” they sang, drawing smiles and applause.
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As the boys finished, Martha realized Ellie was nowhere to be seen. Her confidence wavered.
“Go get her,” Nigel said, glancing at his watch. “We don’t have all day.”
Panicked, Martha rushed back to the house, her heart pounding. Something was wrong, and she needed to find Ellie fast.
Reaching Ellie’s room, Martha paused outside the door, hearing muffled sobs from within. Her heart sank.
Ellie was always cheerful, her laughter lighting up even the gloomiest days. Hearing her cry was like a punch to Martha’s chest.
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She hesitated, unsure how to approach her daughter, then gently knocked and opened the door.
Ellie spun around, hastily wiping her eyes. Her face was red, and her hands trembled as she tried to shove something into her desk drawer.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Martha asked, her tone soft and concerned — a stark contrast to her usual commanding voice.
Ellie forced a shaky smile. “It’s nothing, Mom. Don’t worry. I’ll win. I promise to make you proud.”
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Her voice wavered as she spoke, but before Martha could say anything, Ellie grabbed her violin and bolted past her.
Martha stood frozen for a moment, staring at the desk. Something didn’t feel right.
Glancing toward the hallway, she hesitated. Part of her knew she should respect
Ellie’s privacy, but another part — her instincts as a mother — told her to look. Slowly, she opened the drawer and found Ellie’s diary.
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Her hands trembled as she flipped through the pages, the last entries smudged with tear stains. The most recent page caught her eye. As she read the words, her heart broke:
“Today, I can’t fail. I have to be perfect. Mom is counting on me, and I know I can do it. But why am I so scared? I’ve played this piece perfectly before, so why do I keep messing up now? Please, let everything go right. I want Mom to be proud of me. I want her to love me. I can’t lose…”
Tears welled up in Martha’s eyes. She had never realized how much pressure she had put on Ellie — not for Ellie’s sake, but for her own pride.
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Ellie wasn’t trying to succeed for herself; she was doing it to win her mother’s love and approval.
Placing the diary back carefully, Martha rushed outside. Ellie was standing by the stage, gripping her violin tightly, her knuckles white.
Her eyes darted nervously across the crowd.
Martha ran to her without a second thought, pulling her into a tight embrace.
“I’m so sorry, Ellie,” Martha whispered, her voice breaking. “You don’t have to do anything. You don’t have to prove anything. I already love you, and I’m so proud of you — no matter what.”
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Ellie froze for a moment, then relaxed into her mother’s arms. Her tears spilled over, but this time, they were tears of relief. “Thank you, Mom,” she whispered.
Back on stage, Nigel smiled kindly as he announced that the points would be shared evenly, declaring all three mothers winners.
Jen clapped enthusiastically, her joy infecting the crowd. “This was so much fun!” she exclaimed.
Martha turned to Jen, her eyes filled with gratitude. “Thank you for helping me see what being a great mom truly means.”
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: As good friends often do, Lisa and Lora decided to show their support and took Emma to a ski resort for Christmas to help her forget about her recent breakup. However, veering off the trail with Sam made her realize that this Christmas wouldn’t go as planned. Read the full story here.
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.
Single Dad Takes in Unwanted Boy with Down Syndrome—What He Discovers Years Later Will Shock You
A man who lost his family chooses to adopt a little boy that no one wants because he has Down syndrome. Years later, a lawyer contacts him with surprising news.
David walked back and forth in the hospital waiting room. His brother Jack said, “Calm down, Dave! You’d think no one ever had a baby before!”
David smiled. “I know,” he replied. “I’m just really nervous! I’ve always wanted to be a dad!”
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Jack smiled and patted his brother on the back. “Get ready to be a dad, my man!” Just then, the doctor walked in and went straight to David. The look on his face made all the laughter stop, and David knew something was wrong.
The doctor said it was one of those rare accidents that had cost Rita and their baby their lives. David listened calmly and nodded in the right places.
He didn’t even cry, but when he tried to walk, his knees gave out. A crying Jack had to help his brother and carry him home like a child.
Days later, after Rita and their baby were buried, and everyone seemed ready to forget, David woke up in a quiet house. He reached out to Rita’s side of the bed. Empty.
Parents often make heartbreaking decisions for their children’s welfare.
He got up and walked down the hall to the nursery and turned on the nightlight that shone soft stars on the ceiling. He and Rita had filled that room with both hope and sadness. Now it was all gone.
David sat in the rocking chair Rita insisted they needed and cried. His heart and home were empty, and his dreams were lost. He wanted to tear that nursery apart to escape that emptiness.
Suddenly, a thought came to him. “You can’t fill a hole with anger, only with love.” Who said that? David wondered. He had heard it somewhere before. Maybe that idea could save him.
David contacted social services to ask about adopting or fostering a child. At first, the social worker hesitated. “We don’t usually give children to single parents,” she said. “But it’s becoming more common.”
“I have a good life,” David said. “I have so much love to give a child. My wife and I dreamed of being parents, and I want to make that dream come true.”
The social worker picked up a file with colorful stickers. “Would you consider a child with special needs?” she asked.
David shrugged. “All children are special. They all have needs,” he said softly. “We never know what life might bring. I want to help the child who needs me.”
David had to go through many interviews and attend parenting workshops, but soon, the big day arrived. They told him he had a son.
“We have a little boy who has been in three different foster families,” the social worker said. “His name is Sam, and he is two years old. He has Down syndrome…”
“Where is he?” David asked.
“Sam has some health issues you should know about,” the social worker replied.
“I’ll take him to the doctor,” David said. “Whatever he needs, he will get.”
When David met Sam, it was love at first sight. Sam was the cutest little boy he had ever seen!
At first, Sam was shy, but when he felt David’s love and care, he slowly opened up. David couldn’t understand how anyone could not want such a sweet child!
It took Sam a little longer to reach his milestones, and the doctor said they needed to watch his heart, but in almost every way, he was perfect!
The best part of David’s day was when he picked Sam up from daycare, and his little boy ran to him with open arms. David would lift Sam high and tickle his belly, and his heart was filled with joy.
“Rita,” he’d whisper to his late wife as he watched Sam sleep. “I made our dream come true. I filled the hole you and our baby left in my life with love.”
The years passed, and Sam grew just like any other child. The doctor said his heart was doing well. He was a happy boy who made friends with everyone he met. No one could resist Sam and his big smile!
The phone rang constantly with invites for sleepovers and playdates, and David could hardly keep up with Sam’s busy social life!
When Sam turned twelve, he wanted to hang out with friends on his own like the big boy he was. It was hard for David, but like every parent, he learned to give his son space.
One day, he got a phone call from a lawyer. “Mr. Wallace,” the man said. “I’m calling about your adoptive son’s birth parent…”
“What do you want?” David asked sharply.
“I would like to talk to you…” the lawyer replied.
“I’m not interested,” David said. “Those people abandoned my son. There’s nothing you could say that I want to hear.”
“Please, Mr. Wallace,” the lawyer said. “For Sam’s sake.”
Reluctantly, David agreed to meet the lawyer. When he arrived, the man handed David a letter. “This will explain everything much better than I can, Mr. Wallace,” he said.
David opened the envelope and began reading: “Dear Mr. Wallace, if you are reading this, I am finally at peace with my wife. Thank you for loving my dear Sam and taking care of him.
“Before Sam was born, the doctors told us he had Down syndrome, but it didn’t matter to us. We welcomed him with joy. We thought we would have many happy years as a family, but it was not to be.
“When Sam was three months old, he had some tests at the hospital. My wife, Emily, and I went to pick him up, and we were hit by a truck.
“Emily died instantly, and I survived but became paralyzed. For twelve years, I felt like a dead man who still breathed and cried.
“I was not the father Sam deserved. I wanted better for him, so I placed him for adoption. I was right, Mr. Wallace, because you took my boy in and have been the best father.
“One day, I hope you can tell Sam that his birth parents loved him and wanted him. I never want him to think we abandoned him.
“Please, tell him! My lawyer will give you the papers for Sam’s trust fund, which will be in your care. Thank you again, Mr. Wallace, for loving my Sam and for being the father I should have been.”
The lawyer gave David access to Sam’s trust fund, which was worth $1.2 million. David promised to use the money to secure his son’s future, just as his biological father wished.
David thought about the families who had turned away from Sam. Would they have rejected him if they had known about the money? Sam’s biological father was right to hide the fortune so that his son could be loved for who he truly was.
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