Yulia Antonovna had long served in the Grigoryev household—Vladimir and Lyudmila. Today the masters had gone somewhere, and the maid, having finished all her chores around the house, sat down to rest by the window. Suddenly, her attention was drawn to a little boy on the street. Skinny and clad in tattered clothes, he was wandering along the fence of their property.
“Perhaps he’s hungry,” sighed Yulia Antonovna, feeling pity for the unfortunate child. Glancing at the huge clock in the living room, she decided that the couple wouldn’t return anytime soon and stepped out into the yard.
“What’s your name?” she asked softly, addressing the boy who was carefully watching the street. “Vasya,” he replied, giving her a wary look from beneath his disheveled bangs. “Well then, Vasya, come with me. I’ll feed you some fresh apple pie,” the woman offered, and the boy, without hesitation, followed her. His stomach had been rumbling from hunger for a long time—he hadn’t eaten anything that day.
In the kitchen, Yulia Antonovna carefully cut an impressive slice of pie with a knife and placed a plate in front of the hungry little one.
“Oh, it’s so delicious!” Vasya exclaimed, greedily biting into the soft pastry. “My mother used to bake a pie just like this once!” “And where is your mother?” the woman asked cautiously. The boy paused, stopped chewing, and sadly lowered his eyes. “I’ve been looking for her for a long time… She disappeared,” he murmured softly. “Eat, eat,” Yulia Antonovna gently encouraged him. “You’ll find your mother, I’m sure you will.”
At that moment, the front door creaked, and Vladimir and Lyudmila entered the house. The maid flinched at the sound of the footsteps.
“And who do we have here as our guest?” Vladimir asked in surprise as he peered into the kitchen. His eyes widened when he saw the boy. “Who did you bring in, Yulia?” he said sternly to the maid. “This child is looking for his mother; he’s hungry, and I decided to feed him,” the woman replied calmly, shrugging her shoulders.
“So now you’re feeding all sorts of strays? And our opinion no longer matters to you?” the master of the house protested.
Hearing these words, Vasya began to cry. “I’m going to leave now,” he mumbled, putting the half-eaten piece of pie back on the plate.
Then Lyudmila intervened: “Wait, boy,” she said softly. “Tell me, where are you from? Where did you lose your mother?”
Lyudmila had always been gentler than her husband. Sometimes Vladimir would scold her for being overly kind, but he had never succeeded in changing her nature.
“I live with my grandfather, but he’s mean. He’s always scolding me for something, and sometimes he even hits me. I ran away from him,” Vasya confessed, and he pulled from the pocket of his old, ragged trousers a yellowed photograph.
“These are my parents. We used to live together,” said the boy, wiping away his tears with his hand as he handed the photo to the homeowners.
Lyudmila, taking the photo in her hands, froze…In the photo was her daughter, Varya! “Look, Volodya, it’s our girl!” she exclaimed, trembling as she passed the photo to her husband.
Vladimir reluctantly took the photo. “Vasya, how did you come by this photo?” he asked in surprise.
“I stole it from my grandfather. On the other side is an address, so I came here. I thought maybe my mother lives here,” the boy answered as he calmed down. “Grandpa always says that my mother is like a cuckoo who abandoned me. But I don’t believe him!”
“It can’t be! It can’t be!” Lyudmila repeated, recalling how their daughter Varya had once run away with a Gypsy named Manush. For several years they hadn’t heard from her, and then she returned, only to be involved in an accident soon after. That day became a nightmare for them, after which they were left completely alone in these huge mansions.
“And where is your father?” Vladimir asked. “And my father is gone. He was buried six months ago,” Vasya cried once more.
The pair was stunned. They had found a grandson! Tired of loneliness, they decided to keep the boy with them.
“You know, little one, we’ll take you to your room,” said Lyudmila. “And will my mother come?” asked Vasya. “Your mother is now with your father,” the woman replied sadly.
Vasya paled.
After a while, the couple finalized the adoption documents. The boy’s grandfather did not object upon learning that his grandson could be taken in by affluent people.
Yulia Antonovna was delighted. Thanks to that day when she met the little one, the homeowners became happy. In time, Vasya was no longer the destitute, hungry stray. Instead, he became a well-dressed boy, aware of proper manners, with a loving family.
Single Mother Brings Out the Elf on the Shelf for the Holidays, Discovers Hidden Camera Inside Days Later — Story of the Day
A single mom trying to bring Christmas magic to her young son despite family tension finds a hidden camera inside an Elf on the Shelf in their home. The discovery reveals a shocking betrayal, forcing her to confront those closest to her and fight to protect her son and their fragile peace.
Sophie struggled to steady herself as she maneuvered the Christmas tree down the narrow attic stairs. Her arms ached, and every step reminded her of how different this holiday season would be.
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This was their first Christmas without Frank. The house, once filled with his warm laugh and the scent of his cinnamon-scented coffee, now felt far too quiet.
As she set the tree down in the living room, Sophie wiped her forehead and let out a small sigh. Matthew, her seven-year-old son, deserved a magical Christmas, even if she didn’t feel like celebrating.
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The twinkle of excitement in his eyes every December had always been contagious. Frank would have wanted her to keep that alive for him.
The past few months had been tough for Sophie, especially with her mother-in-law, Rachel, trying to take Matthew away.
After weeks of tense arguments, Sophie had convinced Rachel to back down, but the conflict had left scars.
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Sophie opened a dusty box of decorations, her hands brushing over familiar ornaments. Her breath caught when she picked up the Elf on the Shelf, its cheeky grin staring back at her.
Memories of Frank came flooding in—setting up the elf with tiny marshmallows in the kitchen or balancing it precariously on the bookshelf.
Matthew’s laughter, believing the elf was up to no good, echoed in her mind. A bittersweet smile tugged at her lips.
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The buzz of her phone startled her. She glanced at the screen.
@Mom:
How are you two holding up?
@Sophie:
It’s a bit hard to manage everything on my own, but overall, we’re okay.
Just as Sophie set the phone down, the doorbell rang. As she opened the door, her heart sank. Standing there, suitcase in hand, was Rachel.
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“What… what are you doing here?” Sophie asked, her voice sharp with surprise.
“I thought I’d keep you company for Christmas,” Rachel said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “It seemed like you could use the help.”
Sophie crossed her arms. “We don’t need company. We’re doing fine on our own.”
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Rachel set her suitcase by the door and glanced around. “Are you really? After Frank passed, you’ve looked awful. I can’t imagine Matthew spending Christmas in such a sad house.”
Sophie clenched her fists. “You don’t get to say that. Matthew and I are fine. I’m doing my best.”
“I’m sure you are,” Rachel said. “I’m not here to judge. I just thought you’d want some support.”
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Rachel wandered into the living room, admiring the decorations. “It’s lovely in here. You’ve done a nice job. I wasn’t sure you’d even put a tree up.”
“I did it for Matthew,” Sophie muttered.
Rachel’s eyes landed on the Elf on the Shelf. She picked it up, examining its face. “This elf is so charming. I’ve always liked it. He watches everything, doesn’t he?”
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Sophie felt a twinge of unease as Rachel’s words lingered in her mind, but she brushed it aside, forcing herself to focus on the holiday preparations.
When Matthew bounded through the door after school, his face lighting up at the sight of the decorations, Sophie felt a brief moment of relief.
But it didn’t last long. Rachel immediately stepped in, correcting how Matthew hung his coat and telling him how to wash his hands properly.
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“Your mom lets you do it this way? No wonder it’s a mess,” Rachel said with a sigh.
Sophie clenched her jaw, biting back a response. She watched as Rachel continued, offering advice on everything from homework to snack choices.
She held on to her patience, repeating silently to herself, “Just a few more days.”
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The next morning, Sophie heard a knock at the door and groggily got out of bed.
She shuffled downstairs and opened the door to see her mother, Liz, standing there with a small bag.
“Mom? What are you doing here?” Sophie asked, rubbing her eyes.
“I decided to come keep you company,” Liz said, stepping inside.
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Sophie sighed. “You’re not the only one.”
Liz raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“Rachel showed up yesterday,” Sophie explained, her voice flat.
Liz frowned. “Rachel? Well, it’s a good thing I came. You’ll need someone on your side.”
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The next two days were unbearable for Sophie. Every moment felt like a test of her patience.
Rachel hovered over her, pointing out flaws in her parenting. “Matthew needs more structure. When Frank was alive, things were different,” Rachel said, her tone sharp.
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Meanwhile, Liz sat in the corner, shaking her head. “Oh, honey, it must be so hard doing this all on your own,” she said, her voice filled with pity that only deepened Sophie’s frustration.
Sophie felt trapped, their words swirling in her mind like an endless storm.
One evening, desperate for a moment of peace, she began tidying the living room.
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Her eyes landed on the Elf on the Shelf sitting innocently on the mantel. Something about its eyes caught her attention.
They looked unusual, almost unnatural. She picked it up, turning it over in her hands. Her stomach twisted as she spotted a small slit on its back.
With trembling fingers, Sophie opened it and pulled out a flash drive. Heart pounding, she rushed to her room, locked the door, and plugged it into her computer.
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The screen filled with clips—her crying, her messy home, her moments with Matthew. Even Rachel and Liz were captured on the footage.
A wave of fear and anger washed over her. There was only one person who wanted evidence to prove she wasn’t a good mother.
Sophie burst into Rachel’s room, gripping the flash drive tightly in her hand, and her face red with anger. “What is this?” she demanded, holding up the drive.
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Rachel looked up from where she sat on the bed, her expression blank. “I don’t know. What are you talking about?”
Sophie stepped closer, her voice rising. “I found a hidden camera inside the elf. Don’t act like you don’t know anything about it.”
Rachel’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “A hidden camera? That’s horrible. We should call the police.”
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Sophie’s glare hardened. “Stop pretending! I know it was you. You’ve been trying to prove I’m a bad mother so you can take Matthew away!”
Rachel stood, her own voice growing louder. “That’s not true! I haven’t done anything like that. Yes, I’ve thought about Matthew living with me. But I decided against it because I knew it would hurt him. He belongs here with you.”
“Don’t act innocent. I don’t believe you,” Sophie snapped. “I want you out of my house. Now.”
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Rachel crossed her arms. “I’m not going anywhere. I came here to see my grandson. If you want me gone, go ahead and call the police.”
Sophie spun around, slamming the door as she left. Her chest heaved with frustration. Rachel was still trying to control her life, even after everything Sophie had already lost.
She sat on the edge of her bed, her face buried in her hands as tears rolled down her cheeks.
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The weight of everything—the judgment, the invasion of her privacy, the constant pressure—felt unbearable. She didn’t hear Liz come in until her mother spoke.
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Liz asked, her voice soft.
Sophie looked up, her face streaked with tears. “It’s Rachel,” she said through a shaky breath. “She’s trying to set me up.”
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Liz frowned and sat down beside her. “I knew that witch couldn’t be trusted. But tell me what happened.”
“I found a…,” Sophie began. She paused, glancing at Liz’s bag lying on the bed. A piece of paper had slipped out, catching her eye.
She leaned over and picked it up. Her stomach dropped as she read the receipt. It was for a surveillance camera.
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Her hands shook as she held it up. “What is this?!” she yelled.
Liz reached for the receipt, her face pale. “Sweetheart, let me explain.”
Sophie jerked it away. “So it was you? You put a camera in the elf? Why would you do that?!”
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Liz sighed heavily, her voice defensive. “Because you’re not managing, Sophie! You’re still grieving Frank. You don’t visit me. I barely get to see Matthew anymore. I thought he’d be better off with me, but I needed proof.”
“Better off?” Sophie’s voice rose. “Did you ever ask me? Did you even think about how Matthew feels? We’re doing fine! I’m doing everything I can to give him a good life!”
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Liz shook her head. “I just wanted to help. When you’re stronger, we can talk about him coming back to you.”
Sophie stared at her, stunned. “Do you even hear yourself?”
Liz threw up her hands. “You told me you were struggling. That’s why I came. That’s why I did this. You needed help!”
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Sophie’s voice hardened. “I needed support from my mom, not for her to take my child away!”
“It’s for the best,” Liz snapped, her tone firm.
Sophie stood, her eyes blazing. “Get out.”
Liz froze. “What?”
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“Get out of my house!” Sophie shouted, pointing to the door.
Liz packed quickly, her movements stiff. She didn’t look back as she left. Sophie watched her mother climb into a taxi, her chest tight.
“Where is Grandma Liz going?” Matthew asked, stepping into the room.
“She had to leave,” Sophie said softly.
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Matthew wrapped his arms around her. “Good. She wanted me to go with her, but I want to live with you.”
Sophie hugged him tightly, tears welling up again. “No one’s ever taking you away, kiddo. I promise.”
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From the corner of her eye, she saw Rachel walk into the kitchen. Their eyes met. Sophie mouthed, “I’m sorry.” Rachel gave her a small nod, her expression unreadable.
Sophie held Matthew close, her resolve strengthening. This was their life, and she would protect it at all costs.
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: Living next to Claire was a nightmare—until everything changed. One day, the neighbor everyone avoided suddenly became the one everyone adored. I was sure she had an ulterior motive. But as I dug deeper, I discovered a truth that forced me to rethink everything I thought I knew about her.
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