Widower Is Barred from Boarding a Flight with His Newborn Baby, 82-Year-Old Meredith Helps Him — Story of the Day

A widowed man travels a long way to retrieve his newborn baby, but when he tries to return home with the child, he is refused entry into the plane.

Bob Hollis was running late. The 40-year-old had just received a call from a Florida hospital telling him a girl had just been born and he was listed as the father.

He would have discounted it as a prank, but he knew his wife was in Florida for a short holiday he organized for her while he renovated their home — it was a surprise.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

The two had no kids of their own and had adopted three because adoption was something they both wanted to be involved in, so they needed to add more rooms to their house, which was why he was renovating.

Among the two, Bob was more particular about getting a foster child because he was one himself, and he had grown up promising himself to take in as many kids as he could.

“If I can help those kids grow up to be the best of themselves then I feel like I’ve made a huge difference,” he told his wife while they were discussing it.

Bob was also father to two grown kids whom he conceived while he was with his former wife, Ellen. The two went their separate ways after the woman decided to cheat with their pool boy, and she was caught.

He met his second wife, Mary, two years later, and after dating for several months, they got married. They tried to have kids but were unsuccessful, and this motivated them to look into adoption, but they never stopped trying to make babies.

One day, their persistence paid off, and Mary conceived a child. It was in preparation of the baby’s arrival that Bob decided to expand the house to include a nursery and an extra room.

After making the decision, he got Mary, who was due in two months, on a plane to Florida — a place she had always wanted to visit. But when she arrived in Florida, the woman immediately went into labor and was subsequently rushed to the hospital.

Unfortunately, she died during childbirth, so Bob was told that because the child was a newborn, it was necessary to fly out immediately. He packed his suitcases and flew to Florida to pick up her daughter.

When his plane landed, he rented a car and made his way to the hospital, where his wife had allegedly passed away.

The news of her death still ate at him, but he knew there would be time to grieve later, so he focused on bringing home their only child together.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock

When he arrived at the hospital, he met with the volunteer at the intensive care unit, a woman who was 82 years old and recently widowed.

Her name was Mrs. Sticks, and she had things to tell Bob. “What happened?” he asked her as soon as he entered her office.

“Have a seat Mr. Hollis,” she said calmly.

“I’m better off standing, he replied.

“I’m sorry for your loss Mr. Hollis, but your wife suffered some complications giving birth to your child.”

At that, Bob cried bitterly, and Mrs. Sticks quietly watched him, choosing to let him grieve. After a few minutes, she cleared her throat and spoke.

“As I understand you have come for the child, but I have to make sure that you have what it takes to care for one,” Mrs. Sticks said.

Bob let her know that he was already a father and Mrs. Meredith Sticks nodded appreciatively as if to say, “You’ll do,” but she still gave him her phone number.

“Call me if you need anything,” she said. The kind woman also offered her new acquaintance a ride to the airport on the day of departure.

Things went on smoothly for Bob until it was time to board the plane. When he got to the boarding gate, the woman at the counter refused to let him through.

“Is this your child sir?” she asked.

“Of course she is,” he said.

“I’m sorry but she seems too young to be on an airplane. How old is she?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“She’s four days old. Now can I get through?” Bob said.

“I’m sorry sir, but you’ll have to present her birth certificate and wait till she is at least seven days old before traveling with her,” the woman said sternly.

“What’s this?” Bob asked angrily. “Are you saying I have to remain here for the next couple of days? I have no family here to stay with which is why I must get home today.”

“I’m sorry, it’s the policy,” the woman said and turned her attention to the next person in line.

Bob knew that it would take him quite some time to obtain the document but he also had nowhere to go in Florida and no one to ask for help.

He was preparing to spend the night at the airport when he remembered Mrs. Sticks, the kind woman from the medical center. He would rather not have bothered her, but he had no choice, and the night was quickly approaching.

“Hello Meredith,” he said. “I need your help.”

When Mrs. Sticks found out about Bob’s problem, she immediately promised to return to the airport and bring them to her home — it was an offer that astounded Bob, who knew he would most likely have refused to help if he was in her place.

“Compassion still thrives in this world,” he thought to himself.

Bob stayed at Mrs. Sticks’ house for more than a week before he returned to Texas. The woman didn’t just welcome Bob and his daughter into her home. She helped him cope with the newborn baby as well as the death of his wife by talking to him and comforting him. She even helped him arrange for the proper transportation of his wife’s body, making things easier for him.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

The man could not believe how generous she was and would always call her a real angel — even his daughter seemed to love the woman because the girl would start to glow and giggle just from hearing the woman’s voice.

During his stay, Bob learned that the woman had four grown children, seven grandchildren, and three great-grandchildren.

Together they looked after the baby, took relieving walks, and even went to honor the memory of Mrs. Sticks’ departed husband — activities that brought the two even closer.

The man saw in Mrs. Sticks his mother who had passed away a long time ago, and he knew he would miss her a lot when he flew home.

After receiving his daughter’s birth certificate, he was permitted to return home, but Bob continued to keep in touch with the old lady who had helped him.

He had no idea how things would have worked out without her, and he never forgot her kindness, so he visited her every year with his little daughter until she passed away a few years later.

A lawyer reached out to him at her funeral and told him that Mrs. Sticks had left him part of her inheritance, just like she did for her kids.

In honor of her kindness, Bob donated the money to a charity he founded together with her four kids, including her oldest daughter Shirley, whom he fell in love with due to constant exposure to her charms. Later, the two got married, and she became a mother to his six kids.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

What did we gain from this story?

  • Kindness leaves a lasting impression. Bob could never forget Mrs. Sticks, who was there for him in his difficult times. Her heart inspired him to found the charity organization, which was a way to share more kindness around.
  • Imbibe the culture of giving back. Bob adopted three kids with his late wife because he was from a foster home himself and wanted to find a way to make the lives of kids in orphanages better. It is an act worthy of emulation.

Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.

If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a young couple who bought a used car and found a wallet under the seat with an old photo inside.

This account is inspired by our reader’s story 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. 

My Daughter and Son-in-Law Died 2 Years Ago – Then, One Day, My Grandkids Shouted, ‘Grandma, Look, That’s Our Mom and Dad!’

A woman sitting in her house | Source: Midjourney

That summer morning in my kitchen, staring at an anonymous letter, I felt something entirely different. I think it was hope mixed with a little bit of terror.

My hands trembled as I read those five words again, “They’re not really gone.”

The crisp white paper felt like it was burning my fingers. I thought I’d been managing my grief, trying to create a stable life for my grandkids, Andy and Peter, after losing my daughter, Monica, and her husband, Stephen. But this note made me realize how wrong I was.

Two brothers playing with toys | Source: Pexels

Two brothers playing with toys | Source: Pexels

They got into an accident two years ago. I still remember how Andy and Peter kept asking me where their parents were and when they’d return.

It took me so many months to make them understand their mom and dad would never return. It broke my heart as I told them they’d have to manage things on their own now, and that I’d be there for them whenever they needed their parents.

After all the hard work I’d put in, I received this anonymous letter that claimed Monica and Stephan were still alive.

An envelope | Source: Pexels

An envelope | Source: Pexels

“They’re… not really gone?” I whispered to myself, sinking into my kitchen chair. “What kind of sick game is this?”

I had crumpled the paper and was about to throw it away when my phone buzzed.

It was my credit card company, alerting me to a charge on Monica’s old card. The one I’d kept active just to hold onto a piece of her.

“How is that even possible?” I whispered. “I’ve had this card for two years. How can someone use it when it’s been sitting in the drawer?”

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

I immediately called the bank’s customer support helpline.

“Hello, this is Billy speaking. How may I help you?” the customer service representative answered.

“Hi. I, uh, wanted to verify this recent transaction on my daughter’s card,” I said.

“Of course. May I have the first six and last four digits of the card number and your relationship to the account holder?” Billy asked.

I gave him the details, explaining, “I’m her mother. She… passed away two years ago, and I’ve been managing her remaining accounts.”

An older woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

An older woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

There was a pause on the line, and then Billy spoke carefully. “I’m very sorry to hear that, ma’am. I don’t see a transaction on this card. The one you’re talking about has been made using a virtual card linked to the account.”

“A virtual card?” I asked, frowning. “But I never linked one to this account. How can a virtual card be active when I have the physical card here?”

“Virtual cards are separate from the physical card, so they can continue to function independently unless deactivated. Would you like me to cancel the virtual card for you?” Billy asked gently.

A customer care representative | Source: Pexels

A customer care representative | Source: Pexels

“No, no,” I managed to speak. I didn’t want to cancel the card thinking Monica must’ve activated it when she was alive. “Please leave it active. Could you tell me when the virtual card was created?”

There was a pause as he checked. “It was activated a week before the date you mentioned your daughter passed.”

I felt a chill run down my spine. “Thank you, Billy. That’ll be all for now.”

Then, I called my closest friend Ella. I told her about the strange letter and the transaction on Monica’s card.

An older woman using her phone | Source: Pexels

An older woman using her phone | Source: Pexels

“That’s impossible,” Ella gasped. “Could it be a mistake?”

“It’s like someone wants me to believe Monica and Stephan are out there somewhere, just hiding. But why would they… why would anyone do that?”

The charge wasn’t large. It was just $23.50 at a local coffee shop. Part of me wanted to visit the shop and find out more about the transaction, but part of me was afraid I’d find out something I wasn’t supposed to know.

A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

I thought I’d look into this matter on the weekend, but what happened on Saturday turned my world upside down.

Andy and Peter wanted to go to the beach on Saturday, so I took them there. Ella had agreed to meet us there to help me look after the kids.

The ocean breeze carried the salt spray as the children splashed in the shallow waves, their laughter echoing across the sand. It was the first time in ages I’d heard them so carefree.

A kid standing near a sand castle | Source: Pexels

A kid standing near a sand castle | Source: Pexels

Ella lounged on her beach towel beside me, both of us watching the kids play.

I was showing her the anonymous letter when I heard Andy shout.

“Grandma, look!” he grabbed Peter’s hand, pointing toward the beachfront café. “That’s our mom and dad!”

My heart stopped. There, barely thirty feet away, sat a woman with Monica’s dyed hair and graceful posture, leaning toward a man who could easily ihave been Stephan’s twin.

They were sharing a plate of fresh fruit.

A plate of sliced fruits | Source: Pexels

A plate of sliced fruits | Source: Pexels

“Please, watch them for a bit,” I said to Ella, urgency making my voice crack. She agreed without question, though concern filled her eyes.

“Don’t go anywhere,” I told the boys. “You can sunbathe here. Stay close to Ella, okay?”

The kids nodded and I turned toward the couple in the café.

My heart skipped a beat as they stood and walked down a narrow path lined with sea oats and wild roses. My feet moved of their own accord, following at a distance.

An older woman's shoes | Source: Midjourney

An older woman’s shoes | Source: Midjourney

They walked close together, whispering, and occasionally laughing. The woman tucked her hair behind her ear exactly like Monica always had. The man had Stephan’s slight limp from his college football injury.

Then I heard them talk.

“It’s risky, but we had no choice, Emily,” the man said.

Emily? I thought. Why is he calling her Emily?

They turned down a shell-lined path toward a cottage covered in flowering grapevines.

“I know,” the woman sighed. “But I miss them… especially the boys.”

A woman standing outdoors | Source: Pexels

A woman standing outdoors | Source: Pexels

I gripped the wooden fence surrounding the cottage, my knuckles white.

It is you, I thought. But why… why would you do this?

Once they went inside the cottage, I pulled out my phone and dialed 911. The dispatcher listened patiently as I explained the impossible situation.

I stayed by the fence and listened for more proof. I couldn’t believe what was happening.

Finally, gathering every ounce of courage I possessed, I approached the cottage door and rang the doorbell.

For a moment, there was silence, then footsteps approached.

A doorknob | Source: Pexels

A doorknob | Source: Pexels

The door swung open, and there stood my daughter. Her face drained of color as she recognized me.

“Mom?” she gasped. “What… how did you find us?”

Before I could respond, Stephan appeared behind her. Then, the sound of approaching sirens filled the air.

“How could you?” My voice trembled with rage and grief. “How could you leave your own children behind? Do you have any idea what you put us through?”

The police cars pulled up, and two officers approached quickly but cautiously.

A police car | Source: Pexels

A police car | Source: Pexels

“I think we’ll need to ask some questions,” one said, looking between us. “This… this is not something we see every day.”

Monica and Stephan, who had changed their names to Emily and Anthony, spilled out their story in bits and pieces.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” Monica said, her voice wavering. “We were… we were drowning, you know? The debts, the loan sharks… they kept coming, demanding more. We tried everything, but it just got worse.”

A woman talking to her mother | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking to her mother | Source: Midjourney

Stephan sighed. “They didn’t just want money. They were threatening us, and we didn’t want to drag the kids into the mess we created.”

Monica continued, tears trickling down her cheeks. “We thought if we left, we’d be giving the kids a better, more stable life. We thought they’d be better off without us. Leaving them behind was the hardest thing we ever did.”

They confessed that they had staged the accident to look like they’d fallen off a cliff into the river, hoping the police would soon stop searching and they’d be presumed dead.

A man standing in a house | Source: Midjourney

A man standing in a house | Source: Midjourney

They explained how they moved to another town to start fresh and had even changed their names.

“But I couldn’t stop thinking about my babies,” Monica admitted. “I needed to see them, so we rented this cottage for a week, just to be close to them.”

My heart broke as I listened to their story, but anger simmered beneath my sympathy. I couldn’t help but believe there had to be a better way to deal with the loan sharks.

An older woman | Source: Midjourney

An older woman | Source: Midjourney

Once they confessed everything, I texted Ella our location, and soon her car pulled up with Andy and Peter. The children burst out, and their faces lit up with joy as they recognized their parents.

“Mom! Dad!” they shouted, running toward their parents. “You’re here! We knew you’d come back!”

Monica looked at them and tears welled up in her eyes. She was meeting her kids after two years.

A worried woman | Source: Midjourney

A worried woman | Source: Midjourney

“Oh, my sweet boys… I missed you so much. I’m so sorry,” she said, hugging them.

I watched the scene unfold, whispering to myself, “But at what cost, Monica? What have you done?”

The police allowed the brief reunion before pulling Monica and Stephen aside. The senior officer turned to me with sympathy in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but they could face some serious charges here. They’ve broken a lot of laws.”

“And my grandchildren?” I asked, watching Andy and Peter’s confused faces as their parents were separated from them again. “How do I explain any of this to them? They’re just kids.”

A worried older woman | Source: Midjourney

A worried older woman | Source: Midjourney

“That’s something you’ll have to decide,” he said gently. “But the truth is bound to come out eventually.”

Later that night, after tucking the children into bed, I sat alone in my living room. The anonymous letter lay on the coffee table before me, its message now holding a different kind of weight.

I picked it up, reading those five words one more time, “They’re not really gone.”

I still didn’t know who had sent it, but they were right.

A woman reading a letter | Source: Midjourney

A woman reading a letter | Source: Midjourney

Monica and Stephan weren’t gone. They’d chosen to leave. And somehow, that felt worse than knowing they weren’t alive.

“I don’t know if I can protect the kids from the sadness,” I whispered to the quiet room, “but I’ll do whatever it takes to keep them safe.”

Now, I sometimes feel I shouldn’t have called the cops. Part of me thinks I could’ve let my daughter live the life she wanted, but part of me wanted her to realize what she did was wrong.

Do you think I did the right thing by calling the cops? What would you have done if you were in my place?

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

If you enjoyed reading this story, here’s another one you might like: While Claire is dropping her kids off at summer camp, she gets a devastating phone call. Her 67-year-old mother, an Alzheimer’s patient, is missing. After three days of looking for Edith, police officers bring her home, and only then does the old woman reveal a horrible truth about Claire’s husband.

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.

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