I never imagined a simple Christmas wish would turn my world upside down. But when it led me to a date with Santa, followed by unexpected secrets and a jealous friend’s schemes, I was entangled in surprises I never saw coming.
The shopping mall sparkled like something out of a fairytale. Thousands of lights twinkled across every corner, and the air was filled with the scent of pine and cinnamon.
I glanced down at my four-year-old son, Oliver, and couldn’t help but smile. He adored Christmas. His eyes held a childlike wonder and belief in all the little magical moments that made the season so special.
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Raising Oliver on my own had been both a challenge and a gift. We had each other, and I tried to make his childhood as warm and bright as possible, even when life got tough.
He was that part of my heart that kept me grounded, reminding me that joy could be found in even the smallest things. We were a team, always cheering each other on. As we strolled through the crowds, Oliver suddenly stopped.
“Mom, look! It’s Santa!”
He pointed eagerly to the big red-suited figure sitting on a golden chair, surrounded by a line of children.
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He looked up at me, his face beaming with hope. “Can we go talk to him? Please?”
“Of course, sweetheart,” I replied, smiling down at him as we took our place in line. Oliver fidgeted in excitement, looking up at me with a grin that stretched from ear to ear.
“I have something really important to tell him, Mom,” he whispered, clutching my hand tightly.
“Something special?”
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He nodded, his face serious. Whatever he wanted to say, it meant a lot to him. Finally, Oliver approached Santa, glancing back at me before leaning in close to whisper to him.
I couldn’t hear the words, but I saw Santa’s eyes soften, his expression shifting to a kind and gentle smile as he listened. After their moment together, I bent down to Oliver, curiosity bubbling up.
“So,” I asked softly, brushing a lock of his hair from his face. “What did you tell Santa?”
“I can’t tell you, Mom,” Oliver whispered, grinning. “If I tell you, it might not come true!”
I laughed, nodding. “Alright, alright. Well, since you’re keeping secrets, how about we go grab a burger to share? I’m starving.”
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He practically jumped with excitement. “Yes! Can I get fries, too?”
“Fries? Of course,” I replied, holding his hand as we made our way to the food court.
As we settled in and started digging into our food, I caught a flash of red from the corner of my eye. Turning, I saw Santa himself standing by our table and holding an ice cream.
“Would you two mind if I joined you for a while?” he asked, looking between us.
Oliver looked up at me. “Can he, Mom? Can he?”
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“Of course,” I said, smiling at Santa. “Please, join us.”
Santa pulled up a chair and sat down across from Oliver, who stared at him with awe.
“So, Oliver,” Santa began, leaning in as if to share a secret, “what’s your favorite Christmas treat?”
“Oh, that’s easy! Chocolate chip cookies! Especially the big ones Mom makes.”
Santa chuckled, licking his ice cream. “Sounds like your mom knows what she’s doing. I have to agree—chocolate chip cookies are hard to beat.”
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Oliver nodded. “And what’s your favorite, Santa?”
“Oh, now that’s a tough question,” Santa replied, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “I think… hot cocoa, with a mountain of ice cream on top.”
I felt a warm smile spread across my face, watching how easily he connected with Oliver. We spent a while like that, laughing and chatting.
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After we finished eating, Santa turned to me with a gentle smile. “How about a little more holiday fun?”
Oliver’s eyes widened. “Like, at the amusement park?”
Santa grinned. “Exactly! How about some ice skating?”
Oliver turned to me, practically buzzing. “Mom, please! Can we?”
I couldn’t resist his enthusiasm. “Alright, let’s go!”
At the rink, Oliver held tightly onto both our hands, wobbling on his skates as we took our first few laps.
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Santa’s hearty laughter echoed, steady and joyful, each time Oliver let out a triumphant cheer after staying upright.
“You’re doing great, Oliver!” Santa said, giving him an encouraging smile.
Oliver beamed. “I feel like I’m flying!”
As the evening continued, we wandered through paths lined with sparkling lights, gazing up at reindeer, snowflakes, and candy canes glowing against the night sky.
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Oliver skipped ahead, and I couldn’t help but notice how Santa kept his costume on the whole time, staying completely in character.
“Thank you for tonight,” I said softly to Santa when Oliver was busy watching a display of twinkling stars. “It means the world to him… and to me.”
“It’s my pleasure. Tonight has been a gift for me too.”
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Eventually, the time came for us to head home. Santa walked us the whole way, keeping Oliver entertained with little stories about life at the North Pole. As we reached our front door, Santa knelt, looking into Oliver’s eyes.
“I’ll do my very best to make your wish come true,” he said, giving Oliver a wink.
“Thank you, Santa! You’re the best.”
Before I could say a word, he took my hand, and with a gentle, sincere look, he lifted it to his lips, pressing a warm kiss on my knuckles. As he walked away, his red coat blending into the soft glow of streetlights, I felt a flutter of happiness and warmth.
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***
Days went by, and although I kept myself busy, I couldn’t shake that evening with Santa from my mind. I didn’t fully understand it, but I felt drawn back to the mall, maybe just to see him one more time.
As I wandered the holiday displays, I suddenly heard a familiar voice.
“Laura? Is that you?”
I turned and found myself face-to-face with Mia, an old childhood friend.
“Mia! Wow, it’s been ages!” I hugged her, delighted.
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“Oh, that’s true!” she replied. “Let’s catch up over coffee.”
We settled in, and before I knew it, I was telling her all about that night with Santa—how he’d been so kind to Oliver and how, well… I’d felt something special.
Mia’s eyes widened. “Laura, this is amazing! You have to find out who this Santa really is.”
“Oh, Mia. He’s probably just someone doing his holiday job.”
She nudged me. “Look! He’s right over there. Go say hi!”
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Before I could stop her, Mia gave me a gentle push toward Santa. Blushing, I looked over, and… Santa noticed me and waved.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite family from the other night,” he said, smiling warmly as he approached.
“Hi,” I replied.
“Would you like to go out for coffee with me sometime?”
A date with Santa?
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“Sure.”
When I turned to share my excitement with Mia, I saw she’d disappeared into a nearby clothing store.
***
That evening, a courier arrived at my door with a small card. It was an invitation, in neat handwriting, for a Christmas Eve date at a cozy café. My heart leaped with nerves. I quickly called Mia.
“Should I go? It’s Christmas Eve.”
“Laura, you’d be crazy not to! You can still be home with Oliver afterward. This is your chance!”
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Her words stayed with me, filling me with courage. I dressed up, arranged for Oliver’s nanny to stay with him, and headed off for my Christmas Eve date.
***
That evening, I arrived at the café full of excitement and quiet hope. I was pleasantly surprised! He was handsome, charming, and carried himself with an easy grace.
For a moment, I felt like a character in one of those holiday romance movies, swept away by a little Christmas magic. But minutes later, my gaze landed on a glint of metal on his left hand. A wedding ring!
“So… are you… married?”
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“Yes,” he replied nonchalantly, as if we were discussing the weather. “But they’re away for the holidays. A little fun never hurt anyone, right?”
I felt my face heat up. “Excuse me?”
“No need to look so serious.”
Without another word, I grabbed my coat and bag and hurried out of the café, barely holding back tears. What had started as a night full of promise had soured so quickly.
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I walked through the city streets, the chill air and bright lights doing nothing to lift my spirits. When I finally walked home, Oliver’s face lit up.
“Mom! Santa’s here! Look!”
My breath caught as I looked over and saw… our Santa from the mall!
“How dare you!” I snapped. “You’ve ruined enough for one night. Get out. And stay away from us.”
Santa stormed off, and Oliver ran off upstairs, his disappointment clear.
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The nanny shook her head. “He spent the whole day making Oliver happy… maybe that’s worth something.”
I was confused and ashamed.
But if he’d been here all day, then who was at the café?
***
Overwhelmed with suspicion and regret, I set off to Mia’s house, determined to get answers. When I arrived and saw a man in a Santa costume standing outside, I stopped short. He wasn’t the one I’d met at the café.
“Oh, God…” I whispered.
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I kicked out the wrong Santa! But with the costume, who could’ve known?
I stepped closer. The man with a sad smile was watching a young boy playing in the yard.
“My name’s Jack,” he explained. “This is… well, this is my son’s home.”
I felt my heart sink as I put the pieces together. “Your son?”
He nodded, his gaze fixed on the boy.
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“Mia’s my ex-wife. She doesn’t allow me to see him often. Playing Santa was my only chance to maybe… hold him if he came to make a wish.”
I gasped. “You’re the Santa from the mall! The one who spent the evening with us?”
“That’s me. Mia found out and came over, demanding more child support. That’s when she must have run into you.”
“Oh my god! She set me up! She must have sent that awful man to the café to make sure I’d never see you again.”
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Jack sighed. “Mia gave me an ultimatum. Either I return to her, or she’ll cut me off from my son for good.”
“She did all this because she was jealous? That’s… that’s horrible!”
“After she threatened me, I thought I’d at least come spend Christmas Eve with you and Oliver.” He looked up, his eyes earnest. “I haven’t felt so happy in years as I did that night with you both.”
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I didn’t know what to say. Everything I’d assumed was wrong. Finally, I managed, “I’m sorry, Jack. I… I should trust my heart.”
“It’s okay. The night isn’t over yet.”
We picked up Oliver and went to Jack’s home, where he’d prepared a beautiful holiday feast, a tree lit with warm lights, and gifts waiting under it.
That night became a true holiday filled with laughter, warmth, and the family joy we’d all been missing.
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: When I arrived to support my friend after she split up with a con man, I never imagined I’d be caught in a web of deception myself. Her tears and the details of her betrayal filled me with sympathy, but little did I know this visit would change my life forever. Read the full story here.
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Man Who Put Work First His Whole Life Could Never Get His Daughter to Talk to Him Until a Christmas Call Changed Everything — Story of the Day
A lifetime of putting work first left Tom estranged from his family. Now, nearing 70, he faces worsening health and a daughter who won’t take his calls after years of neglect. But an unexpected Christmas scare forces him to confront his choices, leading to a moment that could change everything.
Tom sat in his quiet, empty office, the only sound the faint hum of the heater. Papers were neatly stacked on his desk, but his tired eyes wandered to the decorated Christmas tree glowing softly in the corner.
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It was festive but felt out of place in the lonely space. He always stayed late, long after others had gone home.
His friends had retired, but work was his anchor. With a sigh, he picked up his phone and dialed his daughter, Daisy.
“Hello,” Tom said, his voice steady but hesitant.
“Hi, Dad,” Daisy replied, sounding distracted.
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“What does Theo want for Christmas this year?” Tom asked, trying to keep the conversation light.
“He wants a Furby,” Daisy said.
“A Furby? What’s that?” Tom asked, frowning.
“It’s a toy. It talks and moves. All the kids at school have one,” Daisy explained.
“Would it be okay if I just gave him money instead?” Tom asked carefully.
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“Uh… yeah, I guess,” Daisy replied in a disappointed tone, then hung up quickly.
After working a little longer, Tom gathered his belongings. His desk, once bustling with life and cluttered with files, now looked too clean, almost sterile.
Locking the office door behind him, he stepped into the chilly evening air and drove home, the radio playing softly but failing to distract his thoughts.
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When he entered his empty house, the silence greeted him like an old, unwelcome friend. He hung his coat on the hook near the door and stared at the dimly lit living room.
The same sofa, the same TV, the same memories. For years, he’d lived alone, ever since his wife packed up and left, taking Daisy with her.
Tom changed into his worn-out sweatpants and sank into the couch, remote in hand.
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As the TV flickered on, his eyes wandered to the shelf. There sat a photo of Theo, grinning widely.
It was one of the few connections he had left. He sighed deeply, the weight of missed moments pressing on his chest.
The next morning, he drove to the clinic. Sitting in the doctor’s office, he felt trapped, knowing exactly what he’d hear: to slow down and work less.
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Dr. Harris walked into the room with a clipboard in hand, his expression calm but focused. “Well, Tom, how are you feeling today?” he asked, sitting down across from him.
“I’m fine,” Tom muttered, avoiding eye contact.
Dr. Harris flipped through Tom’s file. “Your test results are mostly okay, but your cholesterol is still too high. We’ve talked about improving your diet. Are you eating better?”
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“No. I ignore it,” Tom said, crossing his arms.
“Tom, this isn’t something you can ignore. You know your heart’s condition. You need to make changes,” Dr. Harris said firmly.
“I drink water,” Tom replied, holding up a bottle. “My daughter sent it. Says it’s fancy.”
“That’s good, but it’s not enough. Have you told your family about your condition yet?” Dr. Harris asked, leaning forward.
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“No,” Tom said, his tone cold.
“Tom, we’ve talked about this before. Your family should know,” Dr. Harris said, clearly frustrated.
“I wasn’t a good father. My daughter and I don’t have the best relationship. I don’t want to drag her into this mess,” Tom said, shaking his head.
“Are you worried she won’t want to help?” Dr. Harris asked gently.
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“No. I’m worried she’ll help too much,” Tom admitted.
“Tom, you have to tell her, or I will,” Dr. Harris said firmly, standing up.
“You’re supposed to make my life easier, Doc,” Tom said with a weak smile.
“I’m just trying to keep you alive,” Dr. Harris replied, patting Tom’s shoulder before walking out.
Back home, Tom sat in his favorite armchair, the phone resting heavily in his hand.
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The screen lit up with Daisy’s contact, but his thumb hovered over the call button. He stared at it, debating.
What if she got upset? What if she brushed him off? Shaking his head, Tom forced himself to press the button.
“Dad?” Daisy’s voice came through, a mix of curiosity and concern.
“We need to talk,” Tom said, his voice quieter than he intended.
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“What’s going on?” Daisy asked.
Tom took a deep breath and told her about his heart condition. There was a long pause on the line before Daisy finally said, “I’m coming tomorrow. I’ll take care of it.”
“Daisy, you don’t have to—” Tom began, but she cut him off.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Dad,” she said firmly, ending the call.
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The next day, Daisy arrived with a determined look. She immediately called his doctor, grilling him about the details of Tom’s health.
Afterward, she attacked the fridge, tossing out every unhealthy item. Sitting Tom down at the table, she crossed her arms.
“Andrew and I talked, Dad,” Daisy began, her voice calm but firm. “We want you to come live with us. We have a guest house. You’d have your own space, and we’d be close by. I’ve already looked into a great doctor in our area who can help manage your condition. It’s all set up. You wouldn’t have to—”
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“Thank you, Daisy, really,” Tom interrupted, holding up his hand. “But I can’t do that.”
“Why not?” Daisy asked, her tone sharper now.
“Because I need to work,” Tom said simply.
“Work? Are you serious?” Daisy asked, raising her voice. “Dad, you’re almost 70! How much longer do you think you can keep this up?”
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“Sweetheart,” Tom said softly, “work is all I have. I’ve built my life around it. I don’t know who I am without it.”
“And what about me? What about Theo?” Daisy shot back, her voice trembling. “When are you going to care about us? You’ve missed so much! My whole life, I heard people say how great you were. But I didn’t know that man. My dad was never around. And Theo? He doesn’t even remember you!”
“Daisy, I…” Tom began, his voice breaking.
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“I’m done, Dad,” Daisy said, tears in her eyes. She grabbed her bag and slammed the door behind her.
Over the next two weeks, Tom called Daisy every day, but each time, her voicemail picked up. He left messages, his words stumbling as he tried to explain himself.
“Daisy, it’s Dad. Please call me back. I’m sorry for everything.” The silence that followed weighed heavily on him.
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He replayed their last argument in his mind, each word cutting deeper. When Dr. Harris told him his condition had worsened, Tom knew he couldn’t wait forever. He had to make amends.
The day before Christmas, Tom sat at his desk, focusing on the work that usually kept his mind busy. His phone rang, displaying an unknown number.
“Hello?” he answered, his voice cautious.
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“This is Riverside Health Clinic,” a calm voice said. “We’ve received Mrs. Brown’s body following an accident. Your number is listed as the emergency contact.”
Tom froze, his heart pounding. “Mrs. Brown?” he repeated.
“Yes, sir,” they replied.
“I can’t get there for at least six hours,” Tom said, his voice shaking. Panic gripped him. His daughter. Daisy.
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“Understood. We’ll wait,” the voice responded before the line went dead. Tom sat there, stunned, the phone still in his hand.
Tom grabbed his coat and rushed out the door, his mind racing. At the airport, he fumbled with his phone, dialing Andrew again and again, but there was no answer.
Frustrated and panicked, he bought a ticket for the next flight, not caring about the cost. Sitting in the crowded plane, his chest felt tight, and his hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
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He reached into his pocket, pulling out the small bottle of calming pills Dr. Harris had given him, swallowing one with a shaky gulp of water.
After landing, Tom flagged down a taxi and rushed to the hospital, his heart pounding. At the reception desk, he leaned forward, his voice trembling. “I was told my daughter, Daisy Brown, was in an accident.”
The receptionist frowned and tapped on her keyboard. “Daisy Brown?” she asked.
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“Yes,” Tom said, his hands gripping the counter tightly.
“I think there’s been a mix-up,” she replied. “It was Sarah Brown who was in the accident, not Daisy.”
Tom’s knees felt weak. “Are you sure? I got a call saying it was Daisy.”
The receptionist stepped away, returning after a few minutes. “I’m very sorry. A new nurse confused the files of Sarah Brown and Daisy Brown. She called you by mistake.”
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Tom’s face flushed with frustration. “How could something like that happen? Do you have any idea how terrified I’ve been?”
“Brown is a common last name,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact. “Again, I’m sorry.” She returned to her screen, acting as if the incident was resolved. Tom stood there, his body shaking, disbelief and relief flooding him at the same time.
Tom sank into a chair, his head in his hands, his heart still racing from the scare.
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Around him, doctors and nurses moved quickly, their faces focused and calm, handling lives that hung by a thread.
The thought hit him hard—this time it wasn’t Daisy, but what about next time? He couldn’t ignore the reality that life was fragile, and time wasn’t endless.
Taking a deep breath, Tom stood up with a new resolve and walked out of the hospital. Two hours later, Tom stood at Daisy’s doorstep, shifting awkwardly in the too-tight Santa costume.
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The fake beard itched, and the toy Furby felt ridiculous in his hand, but he had come this far. He rang the doorbell, his heart pounding.
The door opened, and Daisy stood there, her eyes widening. “Dad?” she said, her voice filled with surprise.
“Merry Christmas,” Tom said, forcing a small smile. “I know I’ve been a terrible father and grandfather. I’ve missed so much. But I want to change that. I want to do better, starting today.”
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Daisy’s eyes glistened with tears, and her lips curved into a smile. She stepped aside and said, “Come in, Dad.”
She turned and called into the house, “Theo! Come here! Look who’s at the door!”
Little Theo came running, his eyes lighting up when he saw Tom. “Santa!” he shouted with pure joy, throwing himself into Tom’s arms.
Tom knelt, hugging Theo tightly, the toy dropping to the floor as his emotions spilled over. Tears streamed down his face, and when he glanced up, he saw Daisy watching, her smile full of warmth.
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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: Walking into the office that morning, I expected another ordinary day of burying myself in work. But then I saw him—the man who had destroyed my life. My chest tightened, and the memories came flooding back. I had no idea how to handle it. All I knew was that I couldn’t stay in the same room as him.
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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