Girl Takes Abandoned Baby Boy Home, Years Later Lawyer Informs Her of His $2.7M Legacy — Story of the Day

I found an abandoned baby one day and took him home, asking my parents to adopt him. Years later, a lawyer called with a big surprise for us, and we finally got the answers we had been looking for.

For years, I had been pleading with Mom and Dad for a little brother or sister, but we were a paycheck-to-paycheck family. Bringing another person into our tight-knit household just didn't seem financially sensible to them.

My mother, Cindy, didn't want to crush my dreams or burden me with our financial woes, so she would sugarcoat the reality. "If you pray really hard, Claire, you might get a little sibling one day," she'd tell me with a hopeful smile.

I clung to those words, making them my nightly prayer. Kneeling by my bed, I'd whisper to the ceiling, bargaining with God for a sibling, promising to be the best sister ever. Deep down, I hoped my prayers would reach Him, sooner rather than later.

By the time I was ten, I had started to accept that it might never happen. Yet, I felt complete with Mom and my father, Mark. Their love was unwavering, and despite our financial struggles, we found happiness in our little world.

***

One afternoon, as I was skipping my way back from school, lost in my thoughts and not paying much attention to where I was going. My book bag swinging rhythmically with each hop when I stumbled upon something unexpected.

Mom had started letting me walk home alone, saying it was a short ten-minute journey that could teach me responsibility. That day, my usual walking buddy wasn't with me.

Engrossed in my little adventure, I almost missed the stroller parked right in the middle of the sidewalk. I bumped into it, jolted by the sudden obstacle, and heard a soft cry emanate from within.

An "Oh!" escaped my lips as I leaned forward, discovering a baby boy inside. His big eyes, filled with curiosity, met mine, and then he burst into tears.

"Hush," I whispered, instinctively rocking the stroller back and forth. Miraculously, he calmed down, giving me a moment to look around for his mother. Our neighborhood in Virginia was known for its safe, modest homes where it wasn't unusual to see mothers strolling with their babies.

But leaving a baby unattended? That was unheard of.

This felt wrong on so many levels. I frowned and lingered for a few more minutes, hoping for someone to claim the stroller, yet aware that my mother would worry if I was late.

Leaving the baby there was out of the question. With a determined breath, I decided to take him home. Mom would surely know what to do.

***

"Claire, what is that?" Mom's voice rang out, surprise lacing her tone as she saw me pushing a stroller into our home. She was drying her hands with a towel, her eyes locked on the unexpected sight.

"Mom! On my way home, I stumbled upon this stroller, just abandoned on the sidewalk. And there was a baby boy inside, all alone!" I rushed out the words, my heart pounding with urgency.

Her eyes widened in shock and confusion, yet without hesitation, she scooped the baby into her arms, holding him close. "Jesus, who could do such a thing? We need to call the police," she declared, gently patting his back.

A hopeful thought crossed my mind, and I couldn't help but voice it. "Mom, what if he's the brother I've been praying for all these years? Could he be the answer from God?"

She sighed, a gentle smile gracing her lips despite the situation. "Oh, Claire. Life doesn't quite work that way. We don't know his story yet. His family might be out there, frantic with worry," she tried to explain, still rocking the baby soothingly.

I fell silent, my mind racing, but then I noticed something tucked in the stroller—a piece of paper. "Mom, look, there's a letter!"

Mom grabbed it with one hand and started reading: "To whoever finds him, please take care of him. His name is Gabriel. I can't. I'm 18, and I was kicked out. Please. Thank you."

The reality of his situation hit me hard. "So, his mom did leave him," I whispered, heartbroken.

"Yes, sweetie," Mom replied, her worry evident by the wrinkles on her forehead. Understanding the baby's immediate needs, she called my father, who soon brought home baby essentials. After feeding Gabriel and settling him in, we called the non-emergency police line.

When the officers arrived, they listened to our story, ultimately asking us to care for Gabriel overnight until a social worker could take over. That night, though, something magical happened. Gabriel's presence brought a new joy into our home, despite the challenges.

Before bed, I couldn't contain my feelings any longer. "He was meant to be with us. He's the brother I've prayed for," I told my parents, hope filling my heart.

The next day, when the social worker came, the thought of parting with Gabriel was unbearable. My parents spoke with her, expressing our wish to keep him during the investigation. She agreed, on the condition that they become certified foster parents.

The investigation turned up no leads, and years later, my parents made it official—they adopted Gabriel. I dedicated myself to being the sister I promised I'd be, helping with his care, playing with him, and even taking on babysitting duties to ease the financial burden on my parents.

Despite the tighter budget, our happiness knew no bounds. Gabriel truly felt like a gift from God or from a desperate, loving mother who wanted the best for her child.

***

At 19, balancing college at a nearby university and a part-time job, I was still deeply invested in my home life, especially in spending time with Gabriel, who was nearly ten by then.

One day, as I was getting ready to play Monopoly with my little brother, the landline rang, pulling me away.

"Hello?" I answered, signaling to Gabriel that I'd join him shortly.

"Hello, am I speaking with Mrs. Patrickson?" a man on the other end inquired.

"No, this is Claire. Mrs. Patrickson's my mother," I replied, puzzled.

"Hello, there. I'm Mr. Cohen, a lawyer for Ms. Masters," the voice introduced himself, leaving me more confused.

"Ms. Masters?" I echoed, the name not ringing any bells.

He brushed past my confusion. "Her first name is Suzanne. Listen, I'm calling to inform you that Ms. Masters is leaving you and your brother, Gabriel, $2.7 million. It's important that you and your parents come to my office to sign some papers."

My jaw hit the floor. "What? Are you sure? How do you know us?"

He quickly gave me a contact number to get more details and hung up before I could probe further.

Stunned, I tried to make sense of the call. Our family's financial situation had somewhat improved over the years, but we didn't have wealthy relatives or any connections that would explain such a legacy. It felt surreal.

Driven by curiosity, I dialed the number Mr. Cohen had given me.

"Hello, Claire," a weak female voice answered.

"Suzanne? I mean, Ms. Masters?" I asked, my heart racing.

"Yes, it's me," she began, unraveling a story that left me speechless. She revealed herself as Gabriel's biological mother, the woman who had left him years ago. She had been watching from a distance the day I found Gabriel and had kept tabs on him ever since.

Hearing her story of being disowned for her pregnancy and the desperation that led her to leave Gabriel was overwhelming. "Oh my God," I gasped, sympathy coloring my words.

She explained her regret and the circumstances that forced her to give up Gabriel, hoping to reintegrate into her family. Now, as she spoke of leaving us a fortune, I feared the worst—that she might want to take Gabriel back or that the money came with strings attached.

"But what's happening now?" I asked, anxiety creeping into my voice, scared of what her intentions might be.

"My parents passed away in a car accident not long after I left Gabriel with you, and I inherited everything from them. I thought about taking him back, but I saw how much love and happiness surrounded him in your family. You had already become his family, legally and emotionally," Suzanne shared, her voice heavy with regret.

"And now, you're giving us this inheritance? Why include me?" I found myself asking, still trying to wrap my head around her generous yet unexpected decision.

"It's not just a gift, Claire. I'm ensuring you're taken care of now because I won't be here much longer. I'm ill, and there's no recovering from it. It seems leaving Gabriel with you was part of a bigger plan, something beyond my control. And soon, all of my estate will be yours and Gabriel's," she explained softly.

I couldn't accept her fate so easily. "But with the inheritance, can't you afford the best treatment? There must be something..." My voice trailed off, the thought of losing someone connected to Gabriel, however remotely, filled me with an unexpected sadness.

"No, dear. It's beyond that now. But I do wish to speak with your parents, to thank them for embracing my son as their own. Would you ask them to call me?" Suzanne's request was simple yet profound.

I promised to relay her message. That night, my parents spoke with Suzanne, expressing gratitude and understanding. We shared everything with Gabriel, who knew about his adoption but finding out his birth mother was dying and giving us an inheritance was still big news.

Plans to meet Suzanne were in the making, but fate had other plans; she passed away before we could see her.

The inheritance she left transformed our lives materially, with the $2.7 million arriving first, followed by additional assets including a trust fund for Gabriel and a large house in a nicer part of town.

But despite our newfound wealth, we remained grounded. Our family bonds grew stronger, and we continued to cherish our time together. My parents worked as hard as ever, ensuring that the majority of that money was saved for the future.

Growing up, I always believed Gabriel was a miracle, an answer to my prayers. Learning about Suzanne only solidified that belief. He wasn't just a happy accident; he was meant to be my brother.

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: I had to act fast when I saw that my mother-in-law, Elaine, had snuck into the nursery and was placing a DNA swab in my baby's mouth. I sneak out of bed, ensuring my husband doesn't wake up, and rush down the hallway, desperate to stop Elaine from exposing my secret. Here's my story.

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. If you would like to share your story, please send it to info@amomama.com.