A Woman Abandoned Her Newborn Baby on a Plane Seat – 13 Years Later, She Returns to Find Him
Rhonda was just a 16-year-old girl when she discovered she was pregnant. Her life took a dramatic turn when she told her father, David Harris, about the baby. David, a wealthy man who owned a large textile company, was not pleased with the news. He had always controlled Rhonda’s life and expected her to follow his wishes.
When Rhonda told him she was pregnant, he was furious. “PREGNANT?! You must be out of your mind, Rhonda!” he yelled. Her father didn’t support her decision to keep the baby and told her she would need to figure out how to raise the child on her own.
“You’re going to get rid of that child, Rhonda. Do you get it?” David said firmly. Rhonda, however, had made up her mind. She refused to abort the baby and told her father she would raise the child by herself. David was unimpressed and gave her an ultimatum: if she kept the baby, she would have to leave his home.
Feeling unsupported, Rhonda packed her bags and left that night, cutting all ties with her father. She ended up at Peter’s house, the father of her child, hoping he would help her. But to her shock, Peter turned his back on her too.
Peter said, “Look, babe, I’m not ready to be a father. You should have stayed with your family. Your father could have helped us.” Rhonda couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Peter had once been excited about the pregnancy, but now he was abandoning her. “If you keep the baby, we’re over,” Peter said, slamming the door in her face.
With no one on her side, Rhonda left Peter’s house in tears, unsure where to go. As she wandered the streets, a sharp pain hit her stomach. She was going into labor. Desperate for help, Rhonda pleaded with strangers, but no one paid attention. Just when things seemed hopeless, a woman named Angela Bamford noticed her and helped her into her car. Angela rushed her to the hospital, where Rhonda gave birth to a healthy baby boy.
The next morning, as Rhonda recovered, Angela sat by her bedside. “Thank you for helping me,” Rhonda whispered, worried about the future of her child. Angela was sympathetic to Rhonda’s situation and listened as Rhonda shared her heartbreaking story.
“I can’t take care of him,” Rhonda sobbed. “I’m homeless, and I don’t know how I’ll provide for him.”
Angela shared a painful memory with Rhonda. “I had a daughter your age once. When we found out she was pregnant, we kicked her out. She couldn’t handle it and took her own life. I don’t want anyone else to go through what she did.”
Angela offered to help Rhonda. “I’ll buy you a ticket. You can start over and give your baby a better life.” Rhonda was hesitant but eventually agreed to take the help. Angela arranged for Rhonda and her newborn to fly from Texas to New York, where Rhonda hoped to build a new life.
On the plane, Rhonda’s mind was filled with worry. She was terrified of the future and whether she could care for her son. As the plane landed at JFK, Rhonda’s fears overwhelmed her. She was scared she wouldn’t be able to provide a good life for her baby in a new city. In a moment of desperation, Rhonda made a heartbreaking decision.
She left her baby on the plane seat with a note. She hoped someone would take him in and give him the life she couldn’t. As the other passengers disembarked, she quickly exited the plane, feeling torn but convinced it was for the best.
A flight attendant named Lincy discovered the baby when the plane was empty. She was shocked to find the note left by Rhonda. It read: *“I’m a poor mother who couldn’t care for my child. Please accept him as your own. I hope you name him Matthew Harris.”* Lincy was moved by the message and decided to take action.
**Thirteen Years Later**
For 13 years, Rhonda struggled with homelessness and poverty in New York City. She had gone through a lot, but eventually, she was able to find a steady job and start rebuilding her life. However, every day, she felt the weight of her decision to leave Matthew behind.
Now that Rhonda was financially stable, she felt ready to face the guilt she had carried for years. She decided to search for Matthew, the son she had left behind. With the help of a police officer, she was able to track him down. To her surprise, Matthew had been adopted by Lincy, the flight attendant who had discovered him on the plane.
Rhonda reached out to Lincy, explaining everything that had happened. Lincy was hesitant but agreed to help Rhonda explain herself to Matthew. When Rhonda met Matthew for the first time in 13 years, he was angry and confused.
“My mom? You must be kidding me!” Matthew shouted. “Where have you been all these years? I don’t need you! I’m happy with my adoptive parents.”
Rhonda’s heart sank. “Matthew, please listen to me,” she begged. “I never wanted to leave you. I didn’t have a choice. I was poor, and your father had abandoned me. I didn’t know what to do.”
Matthew wasn’t ready to accept her explanation. “You left me alone! I don’t care what you say. I have a family now.”
Lincy, seeing the tension between them, stepped in. “Matthew, I know this is hard. But your mother is trying to explain herself. Please, just give her a chance to talk.”
Rhonda was devastated by Matthew’s anger but knew she had to try. “I can’t undo what I did, but I’ve changed. Can you give me a chance? I just want to be a part of your life.”
Matthew paused for a moment, his emotions conflicted. “I don’t know… I can forgive you, maybe. But I can’t call you ‘mom.’ I already have a mother.”
Rhonda nodded, tears streaming down her face. “That’s okay. Can I at least see you on weekends?”
Matthew agreed, and over time, their relationship began to heal.
Today, Matthew is a 23-year-old data scientist in New York City. He has forgiven Rhonda for abandoning him and accepted her back into his life. Rhonda, now in a stable relationship with a man named Andrew, is grateful for the chance to rebuild her relationship with her son. She even met Angela again when she returned to Texas, and the older woman was happy to see that Rhonda had turned her life around.
This story is one of pain, loss, and redemption. Rhonda’s journey shows that even the hardest decisions can lead to healing when both sides are willing to try.
For Months, I Kept Receiving Gifts From a Secret Admirer, but the Truth I Discovered on Valentine’s Day Shocked Me — Story of the Day
I never cared for romance. It always seemed like a fantasy, something that belonged in movies, not real life. But then the gifts started arriving—flowers, chocolates, even books I had wanted. No name, no clues. Just a secret admirer who knew too much. Someone was watching. But who? And why?
To be honest, I was never the romantic type. It had always been that way. Ever since my teenage years, I never understood why everyone was so obsessed with romantic comedies.
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The grand gestures, the dramatic confessions, the over-the-top happy endings—it all felt staged, unrealistic.
Love didn’t work like that in real life. At least, that’s what I believed. Yet, someone decided to prove me wrong.
One day, I arrived at work, juggling my coffee and bag, only to freeze at my desk.
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A massive bouquet of flowers sat there, bright and overwhelming. A note was attached.
My heart pounded as I unfolded it, hoping for a name. But all it said was, “Your smile brightens my days.”
“Did anyone see who brought this bouquet?” I asked, holding up the note.
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Robert looked up from his computer. “No. I was the first one here. It was already on your desk when I arrived.” His usual warm smile made me trust him.
Robert was my favorite coworker. He was kind, thoughtful, and always had my back.
“Wow,” Brian said from across the room. “Someone actually noticed you exist.”
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I rolled my eyes. Brian was my least favorite coworker. Brian never missed a chance to annoy me.
Since my first day at the office, he had made it his mission to get on my nerves.
“Do you have to be like that?” Robert asked, shaking his head. “Jealous the bouquet isn’t for you?”
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Brian smirked. “Oh, look at our knight in shining armor.” He walked off before I could reply.
“Thanks,” I said to Robert.
“Always happy to help,” he said, winking.
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I smiled, pushed the flowers aside, and turned on my computer. Work had to come first.
The thing was, Robert, Brian, and I were each working on a project for the company, but only one of us would receive funding.
Winning meant recognition, respect, and career growth. Losing meant months of effort wasted. I figured that was why Brian had been even more unbearable lately.
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He thrived on competition and loved getting under my skin. This was a battle, and in battles, anything was fair game.
I couldn’t let him—or even Robert—win. I was one of the only women in the company, and I had worked hard to get here.
If my project got funded, it would prove I belonged, that I was just as good—no, better—than the men.
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But then, there were the gifts. The gifts from my secret admirer didn’t stop—they kept arriving almost daily.
At first, I didn’t mind. A bouquet one day, chocolates the next. Then, candy and books—ones I had wanted but never mentioned aloud, at least not that I remembered.
That’s when it stopped feeling sweet and started feeling… unsettling. I wasn’t the kind of person to daydream about romance.
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I didn’t swoon over mystery admirers. I analyzed, questioned, doubted. How did this person know so much about me?
Someone was watching. Someone knew my habits, my preferences. I wasn’t flattered. I was scared.
“You must be happy to have a secret admirer,” Robert said one day, leaning back in his chair.
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“Honestly, it freaks me out,” I admitted.
Robert raised an eyebrow. “Oh, come on. It’s sweet.”
I shook my head. “Not so sure about that.”
Brian, who had been eavesdropping, smirked. “Right. It’s probably some psycho who’s going to be waiting outside the office one day to get rid of you.”
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I grabbed a pencil and threw it at him. “Only a sick idiot like you would do that.”
Brian dodged it easily. “Touched a nerve?”
I turned back to my work, pushing away the anxious thoughts. My head was already spinning from this project.
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I just wanted to get it over with. The presentation wasn’t until February 14th. Ironic, wasn’t it?
Brian wasn’t done. He strolled over and glanced at my computer screen. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
I turned the monitor away from him. “Stop snooping. You probably just want to steal my idea.”
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“My idea is way better,” Brian said, crossing his arms.
“Sure,” I said, dripping with sarcasm.
Brian rolled his eyes and walked away.
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I sighed and reached for my paper cup, but it was empty. “I really need to buy a water bottle. I’m tired of constantly running to the cooler,” I muttered to myself.
The next morning, when I arrived at work, a sleek new water bottle sat on my desk.
A note was attached. “So you don’t have to keep running to the cooler.” I froze.
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What the…?
Someone had overheard me. Someone from this office.
“Want to grab lunch together?” Robert asked, appearing beside me.
“Yeah, sure,” I said, distracted.
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“Nice bottle,” he said, pointing at it.
“Yeah,” I murmured, picking it up.
“You don’t seem too happy about it. Didn’t you want one?” Robert asked, watching me closely.
I nodded, but my mind kept racing. Something didn’t feel right. Then, it clicked. It was Robert. Robert was my secret admirer.
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He sat next to me every day, close enough to hear my offhand comments. He knew my favorite things.
He had always been kind, always supportive. Who else could it be? It made perfect sense.
I wanted to ask him about it, to confirm my theory. But the presentation was too important.
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I couldn’t let myself get distracted now. My focus had to stay on my project.
On February 14th, we finally presented. The conference room was packed, tension filling the air.
As the discussion began, I listened carefully. Robert’s project came up first.
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Then Brian’s. Executives asked questions, debated ideas. But no one mentioned mine. Not once.
“You’ve talked a lot about Robert’s and my projects, but you haven’t said anything about Leslie’s,” Brian suddenly said, his voice steady.
“You think it’s worth discussing?” our boss, Paul, asked, barely glancing at my report.
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Ouch. That stung.
Brian sat up straighter. “I think it’s the most deserving of the three. It’s obvious Leslie’s project is the best.”
I had to stop my jaw from dropping. Brian, of all people, was defending me?
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“I don’t think so,” Robert cut in. “I still believe mine is the best, or at the very least, Brian’s. Men are better architects than women.”
I felt like I had been slapped. Robert, who I had thought was supportive, had said that?
One of the executives finally looked at my project. He flipped through the pages, nodding slowly. “Actually, I think Brian is right. Leslie’s project is the strongest.”
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A heated debate followed. People argued back and forth, numbers and strategies thrown around. I held my breath, waiting for the final decision.
Nearly an hour later, we walked out of the conference room.
I had won.
My project had been chosen. Relief and pride flooded through me. I knew I had earned it.
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“Thanks for speaking up for me,” I told Brian as we walked down the hallway.
He shrugged, hands in his pockets, then kept walking.
I shook my head and turned to Robert. My excitement was quickly fading. “You were acting weird during the presentation. Especially considering how you feel about me.”
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Robert frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I know you like me. You’re my secret admirer,” I said, crossing my arms.
Robert blinked. “What? Where did you get that idea?”
“Everything fits. Plus, you’re always nice to me,” I said.
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Robert sighed. “I’m just polite. I have a girlfriend.”
“Oh…” My stomach dropped.
“Yeah. And I still think my project should have won,” he added.
I shook my head. “Learn to accept defeat,” I said and walked away.
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If it wasn’t Robert, then who was it?
Now, my secret admirer scared me even more. What if he had some kind of listening device at my desk? How else did he know everything?
That evening, as I left the office, unease settled in my stomach. Brian’s words kept replaying in my head—that one day, my admirer would be waiting outside.
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When I stepped out and saw a figure standing by the door, my heart stopped. I panicked and screamed.
“Oh my God, Brian! You scared me!” I yelled, my pulse racing.
“Sorry,” he said, shifting on his feet.
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“What are you doing here?” I asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
“Waiting outside the office to get rid of you,” he said, his tone unreadable.
“What…?” My confusion deepened.
Brian sighed. “Remember when we talked about your secret admirer, and I said that one day he’d be waiting for you outside?”
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I interrupted him. “Yeah, but what does that—” I froze. My mind pieced it together. “Wait… it’s you?”
Brian nodded.
Only then did I notice the large bouquet in his hands. Tulips. My favorite.
“But why all of this?” I asked, staring at the flowers.
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“I figured you needed to see a different side of me. Not just the Brian who teases you,” he said, shifting awkwardly.
“You could have just stopped acting like a jerk instead of scaring me half to death,” I said, narrowing my eyes.
“Yeah… it didn’t go exactly as I planned,” Brian admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.
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“So… you like me?” I asked.
Brian covered his face with his hand. “I’m not good at talking about this,” he muttered.
“I’ve noticed,” I said, smirking.
“…Yeah. I do,” he finally said, avoiding eye contact.
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I smiled.
“Well, happy Valentine’s Day,” Brian said, turning to walk away.
“Hey, that’s it?” I called after him. “No invitation to dinner?”
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Brian hesitated. “You’d actually want that?”
I walked up to him and took his arm. “Well, I do need to get to know this other Brian,” I said.
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: I was living my ordinary life until one of my students gave me a Valentine. It looked familiar, and when I unfolded it, my heart stopped. It was the card I had written years ago for someone I once loved. I had to know how it ended up in his hands—even if it changed everything.
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.
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