
A poor little boy is in tears after being teased by his classmates for the cheap Halloween costume his father made until the school principal shows up wearing the same.
Levi loved his small house and his parents, Carol and Darren. They weren’t rich, but they were there for one another and him, which he admired. But one afternoon, after returning home from school, Levi was upset with his parents.
How could he not be upset? It was Halloween, the trick-or-treating season, and there was a fancy dress competition at his school, but Levi’s parents didn’t have enough money to get him a new costume.
His classmates would all be dressed as Superman, Batman, or one of the Avengers, but he would have to make do with his old costume!

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“Honey, please understand,” Carol said. “You know, daddy and I are trying our best to save this house. We need to put money aside for the mortgage payment.”
“Do you not love me, mom?” asked Levi sadly. “I don’t want the house. I want a new costume. But you love the house, not me!”
Carol sighed. “It’s not like that, honey. Mommy and daddy love you the most! We love you more than anything!”
“No!” he screamed in tears. “You are lying! You don’t love me! You love the house!”
With that, Levi disappeared to his room in tears and didn’t come out even for dinner. No parent wants to see their children sad; even Carol didn’t. Did she have a choice, though? Not really.
They were drowned in loans, and their small shop just brought them enough to get by. But seeing Levi sad bothered her, so she discussed it with Darren over dinner.

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“He’s sad, hun,” she said. “Can we get him a new costume? If not, I’ll find a part-time job.”
“Don’t stress yourself out, honey,” Darren said. “You already have too much on your plate right now. I’ve got an idea…”
Two days later, while Levi was eating dinner alone in his room, still upset with his parents about the costume, Darren walked in with a huge parcel in his hands.
In this cruel world, we must stand up for one another and encourage the good.
“Can I come in, little boy?” he asked at the door.
“No, you can’t,” Levi said. He didn’t even look up from his plate.
“Even if I say I got you a new costume?” Darren asked. “I thought you’d be excited.”
“Did you?” Levi looked at the parcel in Darren’s hands and grinned. “Is that a new outfit? Really?”

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“Yes, it is!” said Darren. “Now, can we have a little apology for mommy because you yelled at her two days ago? She was so worried about you.”
Levi was so excited to see his new costume that he bolted from his room and hugged Carol. “You and daddy love me! Not the house! I’m so sorry, mom! Let’s see my new costume together!” He held her hands and ran so fast that she almost tripped.
Then came the BIG moment. When Levi opened the parcel and saw the costume inside, he was in tears.
“Is that a robot?” he asked. “Dad, mom, I love robots!”
“We know you do, little boy,” said Carol. “Do you like it? Daddy made it for you!”
“I love it, mom and dad!” chirped Levi, wiping his tears. “I love it very much! And I love you so much! Thank you!”

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Levi was delighted. He loved the robot costume Darren had made out of cardboard and duct tape. Yes, it wasn’t expensive, but it had his heart and his dad’s efforts.
But on the day of the fancy dress event, Levi was crying because of the costume. He was sad because all his classmates were teasing him.
“Look, Levi is wearing a piece of colored cardboard!” a boy said and laughed. “He couldn’t even buy a new costume!”
“Don’t say that, Tony!” Levi protested, swallowing the tears in his eyes. “My dad worked hard on this! He went through videos on his computer, and he did so much hard work!”
“Oh, did he?” another kid said and chuckled with his friends. “Well, that outfit makes you look like a loser! I bet your dad’s a loser too!”

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All the kids were so mean to Levi that he started crying. When his name was called, he didn’t show up on the stage and instead cried backstage.
Soon, the show was over, and everyone got to flaunt their costumes except Levi.
“I’m so sorry, dad…” He sniffed. “I didn’t even take part in the competition! I wasted your hard work! I’m sorry…”
Suddenly, Levi heard a loud gasp. He looked at the stage and couldn’t believe his eyes. The school principal, Mr. Frederick, was on the stage, and he was dressed as a robot! A red one, unlike Levi, who was wearing a blue costume.
“Where is my fellow robot? Levi, where are you, child?” he called out from the stage.

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“Mr. Frederick?” Levi exclaimed as he stepped onto the stage. “You have the same costume as me!”
“Call me, Captain Red!” he said stiffly. “Agent Blue, you got a nice suit there! Mine took so much time to make!”
“You look cool, Captain Red!” Levi smiled, having forgotten his worries. “My dad made me this suit! I just love it!”
“That’s wonderful, Agent Blue! I’ll ask your dad to make me a suit next time! I saw some kids didn’t appreciate your costume, so I thought, why not show them they’re wrong? You know what? I love your outfit! You’re lucky! Your dad spends love on you, which is more important than just spending money on children…”
That day, Levi won the competition. His dress stood out from the bunch of Spidermans, Batmans, Avengers, and Disney princesses, and he had a huge smile on his face as he lifted the trophy with Captain Red!

For illustrative purposes only. | Source: Pexels
At that point, the group of mean kids huddled around Levi and apologized. “WE ARE SORRY, LEVI!” they cried in unison. “Your costume was awesome!”
Levi was happy that the other kids loved his costume. He shared the big basket of candies he had won as a part of the prize with them and said, “It’s ok! I’m not sad anymore. Let’s not be mean to others, ok? Mommy and daddy say we should love each other!”
“That’s absolutely right, Levi,” Mr. Frederick said gently. “Always remember, kids, that we need to stand up for each other and encourage the good in this world. Never put others down! That’s what Captain Red and Agent Blue also believe in!” he added with a wink, and all the kids happily nodded as they devoured the Halloween candies.

For illustrative purposes only. | Source: Pexels
What can we learn from this story?
- In this cruel world, we must stand up for one another and encourage the good. Thanks to Mr. Frederick, the kids realized they were wrong to mock Levi and learned the importance of love over money.
- Spending love on children is more important than spending money. Levi’s parents couldn’t afford to buy him a new costume, but they loved him so much that they couldn’t bear the thought of him being unhappy. So they got him a lovely outfit that Darren created himself.
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 an older woman who decides to feed a starving boy on Halloween and is shocked when the boy removes his mask—he’s her missing son’s carbon copy.
Neighbors Made Me Put up a Fence to Hide an ‘Ugly’ Car in My Yard – A Week Later, They Begged Me to Remove It

I didn’t quite see my neighbors’ vintage ’67 Chevy Impala the same way, but to me it was more than just a rusty heap. What was supposed to be a fight over a “eyesore” developed into something none of us saw coming. It altered our peaceful suburban street in ways we never would have imagined.
My dad left me an ancient, beat-up 1967 Chevy Impala. I saw it as a project I wanted to restore and a reminder of my father, even though most people just saw it as a rusted automobile. My garage was piled high with tools and spare components, so the automobile sat in my yard. I’d been trying to save money and find time to work on it, but I knew it looked awful.
But my neighbors were far more concerned about this than I was. I was out inspecting the Impala one bright afternoon when I suddenly remembered something. Gus, my dad, was demonstrating how to change the oil. He smiled, his thick mustache twitching. “You see, Nate? It isn’t complicated science. Simply perseverance and hard work,” he had stated. A piercing voice jolted me back to reality as I was lost in thinking as I ran my fingers over the worn paint. A man leaning against a vintage car’s front end.
Please pardon me, Nate. Could we discuss about that? I turned to see my next-door neighbor, Karen, pointing disgustingly at the Impala. Hello, Karen. What’s going on?” Knowing where this was going, I asked.”That vehicle. It is aesthetically offensive. With crossed arms, she remarked, “It’s destroying the appearance of our street.” I exhaled. “I realize it appears rough right now, but I intend to fix it. It was my dad’s, but Karen cut him off, saying, “I don’t care whose it was.” It must be removed. or at the very least remain unseen. She pivoted and marched back to her house before I could reply.
As I watched her leave, I noticed a knot in my stomach. I vented to my girlfriend Heather over dinner later that night. “Do you think she’s real? “It seems as though she is unaware of the significance this car holds for me,” I remarked, picking at my salad. Squeezing my hand, Heather reached across the table. “I understand, sweetie. However, would you try working on it a little bit more quickly? simply to demonstrate to them your progress? I nodded, but I knew in my heart that it wasn’t that easy. Time was of the essence, and parts were costly.
When I returned home a week later, I discovered a notice from the city hidden beneath the wiper on my “offending” car. As I read it, my stomach fell. The general idea was to either remove the car or conceal it behind a fence. I clenched the piece of paper in my hand, feeling a surge of rage within. This was absurd. I required guidance. I picked up my friend Vince, who also loves cars. “Hey, buddy, have a moment? I’d like your opinion on something. Okay, what’s going on? Vince’s voice came across the phone crackling. I described the circumstances, becoming more irritated as I spoke. Before he spoke, Vince was silent for a while.
He spoke carefully and added, “Build the fence, but add a twist.” “What do you mean?” I curiously inquired.”You’ll discover. This weekend, I’ll be here. This will provide for some enjoyable times. Vince arrived that weekend with a truck full of paint and wood. For the next two days, we worked on erecting a towering fence to enclose my front yard. Vince told me about his strategy as we worked together. “We’re going to decorate this fence with a mural of the Impala. Every rust mark, every ding. We’ll make sure they remember the car if they decide to hide it. Loved the idea, I smiled. “Let’s get started.”On Sunday, we painted. Even though none of us was artistic, we were able to replicate the Impala on the fence really well.
For added effect, we even made some of the flaws seem worse. I was satisfied with my work when we took a step back to admire it. I decided to find out what the neighbors thought of this. It didn’t take me long to learn. There came a knock on my door the following afternoon. When I opened it, a cluster of neighbors surrounding Karen as she stood there. Their expressions were a peculiar mix of desperation and rage. “Nate, we need to talk about the fence,” Karen said in a tight voice. Hiding my delight, I leaned against the doorframe. How about it? I followed your instructions.
The automobile is now hidden.An older man called Frank, one of the other neighbors, raised his voice. We understand that we requested you to conceal the car, but this mural is simply too much, son. I arched an eyebrow. “Too much? In what way? Karen let out a deep sigh. “It’s more awful than the car itself. It appears as though you’ve transformed your entire yard into… “A show of art?” Unable to control my sarcasm, I made a suggestion. “A disgrace,” Karen firmly concluded. “We would prefer to see the actual car instead of this… monstrosity.”Maybe a little too much, I enjoyed their anguish as I crossed my arms. Now, allow me to clarify. You made me spend money on a fence after complaining about my automobile, and now you want me to pull it down? They all gave bashful nods.
After giving it some thinking, I decided to remove the fence—but only under one condition. As long as I’m working on fixing the car, you guys promise to quit whining about it. Alright?They glanced at one another before grudgingly agreeing. I could hear them whispering to each other as they left. I started tearing down the fence the following day. Some of my neighbors were seeing me work with interest. Even Tom, one of them, stopped over to talk. “I never really looked at that car before, Nate,” he remarked, pointing to the Impala. However, after getting a closer look, I can see that it has potential. Which year is it?I grinned, always up for a conversation about the car. It’s a 1967. When I was a little child, my dad purchased it. Tom gave a grateful nod. Good. My brother has a thing for vintage autos.
In the event that you require assistance with the restoration, I might contact him. I took aback at the offer. That would be fantastic. Regards, Tom. In the ensuing weeks, word of my initiative grew. To my astonishment, a number of neighborhood auto aficionados began dropping by to examine the Impala and provide guidance or assistance. I was working on the engine one Saturday morning when I heard a familiar voice behind me. “So, this is the well-known vehicle, huh?” I turned to see Karen standing there, intrigued yet seeming uneasy. I wiped my hands with a cloth and remarked, “Yep, this is her.” Karen moved in closer, staring at the motor. “I must admit that my knowledge of autos is quite limited.
How are you spending your time? Startled by her curiosity, I gave the bare outline of the project I was working on. More neighbors flocked around to listen and ask questions while we conversed. My yard quickly became the scene of an unplanned block party. A cooler full of drinks was brought out, and individuals started talking about their early automotive experiences or their recollections of owning vintage automobiles. I was surrounded by my neighbors as the sun was setting, and we were all conversing and laughing. Karen seems to be having fun as well. Looking at the Impala in the lovely evening light, it seemed better than ever, while still being rusty and battered up.
I couldn’t help but think about how much my father would have enjoyed this scene.Speaking to the group, I remarked, “You know, my dad always said a car wasn’t just a machine.” It was a narrative reimagined. Considering how many stories this old girl has brought out today, I believe he would be quite pleased. There were lifted glasses and murmurs of agreement. I noticed something as I turned to face my neighbors, who were now my pals. Despite all of the difficulty it had caused, this car had ultimately brought us all together. Though the restoration was still a long way off, I sensed that the voyage ahead would be much more pleasurable. Who knows?
Perhaps a whole neighborhood full of vintage vehicle lovers would be eager to go for a drive by the time the Impala was ready to hit the road. I lifted my cup. “To wonderful cars and good neighbors,” I uttered. Everyone applauded, and while I was surrounded by smiles and lively chatter, it occurred to me that sometimes the greatest restorations involve more than simply automobiles. They also care about the community. How would you have responded in that situation?
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