A Man Who Was Called “The Tree Man” Was Able to Hold His Daughter Again After Many Surgeries

“The Tree Man” is a man whose life has been defined by a rare malformation in his hands. Once dubbed for his distinctive condition, he has undergone numerous surgeries, overcoming tremendous challenges on his journey. Now, with unwavering determination and the skilled hands of medical professionals, he has reclaimed a simple yet profound joy—holding his daughter once again.

Abul Bajandar has a rare condition called ’Tree Man’ Syndrome.

Abul Bajandar, a man hailing from Bangladesh, is afflicted with an extraordinary and rare condition known as ’Tree Man’ Syndrome. This hereditary condition, though non-contagious, is unfortunately incurable, and surgical interventions offer only temporary relief. Abul is not alone in his struggle, as there are others worldwide grappling with the challenges posed by this syndrome.

This syndrome manifests through the development of wart-like skin growths that bear a striking resemblance to tree bark. These growths, while initially small, have the potential to grow significantly in size, resulting in considerable disability for those affected.

He has it from a young age.

The onset of his condition began during adolescence, with small warts appearing on his body at the age of 13-14. Regrettably, as he advanced in age, the affliction rapidly escalated, affecting various parts of his body.

After 16 surgeries he was able to hold his daughter again.

After undergoing a series of 16 surgeries between 2016 and 2017 at Dhaka Medical College Hospital in Dhaka, Bangladesh, Abul Bajandar achieved a poignant milestone—he could once again hold his daughter. The surgical procedures aimed to remove the bark-like lesions from his hands and feet, offering a glimmer of hope in his battle against Tree Man Syndrome.

Bajandar shared the profound joy he experiences spending time with his daughters, emphasizing, “If I recover from this, I want to work again, to build a small business to help my daughters in her studies and to give them a good life.” These words reflect not only his determination to overcome the challenges posed by his rare condition but also his unwavering commitment to providing a better future for his family.

Throughout Abul Bajandar’s challenging journey with Tree Man Syndrome, he draws strength from the unwavering support of his wife and mother. In the face of the condition’s recurrence, their steadfast presence provides him with comfort and encouragement. Bajandar reflects on the transformative power of fatherhood, sharing, “When my daughter was born, she brought me the hope of life again. I didn’t want to leave her as an orphan. I felt like I must live for her.”

Abul Bajandar’s condition returned but he remains hopeful.

Despite facing the disheartening recurrence of his condition, Abul Bajandar maintains a resilient sense of hope. Doctors, initially uncertain about the possibility of the condition’s return, witnessed its reappearance. Undeterred, Bajandar expresses his unwavering optimism, declaring, “My only dream is to recover from this situation and live a healthy life.”

His poignant words reflect not only the personal challenges he endures but also a universal desire for health and well-being. Bajandar’s enduring hope shines through as he states, “All I can say is that I truly believe and hope that a cure exists for this disease.” In the face of adversity, his spirit remains unbroken, embodying the strength of individuals confronting rare and challenging medical conditions.

Another person born with a rare condition has defied societal norms and emerged as a symbol of extraordinary resilience. Meet the girl affectionately referred to as “Voldemort” due to being born without a nose.

Preview photo credit Tansh / Alamy Stock PhotoZUMA Press, Inc. / Alamy Stock Photo

Boy Decorates the House of a Lonely Old Lady for Halloween to Convince Her That the Holiday Is Worth Celebrating

Halloween was his favorite day of the year—a day when you could become anyone you wanted, and the world transformed into something magical.

As Kevin wandered down the street, he admired the glowing decorations and spooky scenes set up in each yard. Witches cackled, doors creaked, and the sounds of Halloween filled the air. But one house stood out, not because it was spooky, but because it was completely dark. No pumpkins, no cobwebs—nothing. It was Mrs. Kimbly’s house.

Mrs. Kimbly was the quiet, older woman who lived alone. Kevin had mowed her lawn in the summer and shoveled her driveway in the winter, but she rarely said much beyond handing him his payment. Now, her undecorated house seemed out of place in the festive neighborhood.

Why hadn’t Mrs. Kimbly decorated for Halloween? Kevin couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. Halloween was supposed to be fun, and he didn’t think anyone—especially someone living alone—should miss out.

Determined to help, Kevin crossed the street to her house. Leaves crunched under his sneakers as he approached her front door. He hesitated for a moment, then knocked. After a long pause, the door creaked open, revealing Mrs. Kimbly. Her face was stern, her eyes narrowed behind thick glasses.

“What do you want, Kevin?” she asked, her voice gruff.

Kevin swallowed nervously. “Hi, Mrs. Kimbly. I noticed your house isn’t decorated for Halloween, and I thought maybe you forgot. I could help, if you’d like.”

Her expression hardened. “I didn’t forget,” she snapped. “I don’t need decorations, and I don’t need your help. Now, go away.” She moved to close the door.

Kevin’s heart sank, but he wasn’t ready to give up. “I could do it for free!” he blurted out. “You wouldn’t have to do anything.”

But Mrs. Kimbly scowled and slammed the door. Kevin stood there, stunned. How could anyone hate Halloween that much? He knew her house would likely become a target for pranks if it stayed undecorated, and he didn’t want that to happen.

As Kevin walked home, an idea began to form. He wasn’t ready to give up on Mrs. Kimbly just yet.

At home, Kevin found his mom stirring a pot of soup in the kitchen. “Mom, something strange happened,” he said, sitting down at the table. He explained about Mrs. Kimbly’s dark house and how she had slammed the door in his face.

But when he mentioned Mrs. Kimbly’s name, his mom’s expression softened. “Maybe you should leave her alone,” she suggested gently. “People sometimes have reasons for doing things we don’t understand.”

Kevin frowned. “But, Mom, I think she’s not mad—I think she’s sad. Halloween is supposed to be fun, and I don’t want anyone to feel left out.”

His mom smiled softly. “You have a big heart, Kevin. Just remember, some people aren’t ready for help, even if they need it.”

Her words lingered in his mind, but Kevin still felt like Mrs. Kimbly was just lonely. He was determined to make her Halloween special.

The next day, Kevin gathered every decoration he could find—twinkling lights, plastic spiders, and his favorite carved pumpkin. It was special to him, but if it could make Mrs. Kimbly smile, he was willing to part with it.

He loaded everything into a wagon and headed back to her house. Kevin worked quickly, hanging lights and placing pumpkins on her porch. The house was starting to come alive with Halloween spirit. Just as he finished arranging the last pumpkin, the door flew open.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Mrs. Kimbly stormed out, her face red with anger. “I told you not to decorate my house!”

Kevin froze, his heart pounding. “I just wanted to help,” he said softly. “It’s Halloween…”

Before he could say more, Mrs. Kimbly grabbed the nearest pumpkin—the one Kevin had spent hours carving—and smashed it on the ground. It shattered into pieces across the porch.

Kevin blinked back tears as he stared at the ruined pumpkin. He had worked so hard on it, and now it was gone. Without a word, he turned and ran home.

That night, dressed in his vampire costume, Kevin couldn’t enjoy Halloween. As he wandered from house to house with his friends, collecting candy, his thoughts kept returning to Mrs. Kimbly’s dark house. He knew the other kids might target her home for pranks, and he didn’t want that to happen.

Determined to stop any trouble, Kevin made his way back to her house. He sat on her porch, handing out candy from his own bag to passing trick-or-treaters, explaining, “Mrs. Kimbly’s not home.” He wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting there when the front door opened.

Startled, Kevin looked up to see Mrs. Kimbly standing in the doorway. Her face wasn’t angry anymore. “What are you doing here, Kevin?” she asked softly.

“I didn’t want anyone to mess with your house,” he explained. “I thought maybe I could help.”

Mrs. Kimbly sighed and sat down beside him. “I’m sorry for earlier,” she said quietly. “Halloween is hard for me. I don’t have any family, and seeing everyone else celebrate just makes me feel… alone.”

Kevin’s heart ached. “You don’t have to be alone,” he said. “You can celebrate with us. We’d love to have you join in.”

A small smile crept across Mrs. Kimbly’s face. “You’re a kind boy, Kevin. Thank you for what you did. And I’m sorry about your pumpkin.”

“It’s okay,” Kevin said, smiling back. “I have another one at home. We can carve it together if you want.”

Mrs. Kimbly chuckled softly. As Kevin ran home to grab the pumpkin, Mrs. Kimbly felt something she hadn’t felt in years—the warmth of Halloween spirit, all thanks to a boy who refused to give up.

What do you think of this story? Share it with your friends—it might brighten their day too.

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