I Helped a Poor Girl with Her Halloween Costume – Years Later We Stood in Front of the Altar Together

On a chaotic Halloween morning, I noticed Ellie—a quiet girl in plain clothes—standing frozen while laughter and cruelty closed in around her. The other kids mocked her for having no costume. I was the art teacher, halfway up a ladder, but I knew shouting wouldn’t help. What she needed wasn’t attention—it was dignity.

So I chose her.

I led Ellie to the art supply closet and, with two rolls of toilet paper, a red marker, and a plastic spider, we made her a mummy. I told her mummies were powerful, magical guardians. When she looked in the mirror, she smiled for the first time that day. Back in the gym, the teasing stopped. Something inside her straightened—and something inside me did too.

Ellie stayed close after that. She lingered after class, asked questions that weren’t really about art, and quietly carried the weight of caring for her sick father. When he died, she called me. I stood beside her at the funeral and promised I’d look out for her.

Over the years, she became the daughter I never had. When she left for college, she sent me a Halloween card every year: a hand-drawn mummy and the words, “Thank you for saving me.”

Fifteen years later, a suit and a wedding invitation arrived at my door. Ellie asked me to walk her down the aisle.

Now I’m “Papa B” to her children, teaching them to draw spiders and telling them the Halloween story—because one small act of kindness can change everything.

Sometimes, all it takes is seeing someone…and choosing them.