Hey, youve got to hear this story from back when I was living in that tiny market town of Brookfield, you know the kind where everybody knows everybodys name? One crisp early morning a newborn was left on the front steps of the local maternity ward. The first person to spot the bundle was the nightshift groundskeeper, Mr. George Haines everybody just calls him Uncle George.
Uncle George was the sort of bloke who took his job seriously, a habit hed kept from his old career as an accountant before he retired and couldnt bear sitting at home. Hed never taken the job for the pay he just needed something to keep his hands busy. So when he saw a cardboard box on the doorstep he instantly guessed there was a baby inside, even though there wasnt a sound coming out of it. He lifted the lid, saw the little one, and rushed off to bang on the maternity wards door.
He was only praying that the child was all right, because the silence was a bit unnerving. Luckily, the baby was healthy and kicking away, much to the relief of Uncle George and the midwives. The town was so small that figuring out who the mother might be was a breeze the suspicion fell straight on Emily Lesley. Shed been having a baby almost every year, practically handing them over to the state, never showing up for any checkups and never making a fuss at the hospital.
After a proper little investigation, though, it turned out Emily had nothing to do with this particular bundle. The real mum was never found, and after the necessary health checks the baby was taken to the local baby home just outside town.
As soon as the nurses opened the cot, one of them squealed, Look at that little watermelon! It was the kind of cheeky nickname they give when a newborn is plump and rosycheeked. The nickname stuck everyone called him Watermelon for a while because he was such a healthy little chap.
Eventually Uncle George suggested a proper name, and we all settled on Gleb well, we just called him Glen here, but the idea was the same. Still, the nickname Watermelon clung to him, and even at the baby home he was still called that.
He didnt stay there long, though. A foster family took him in right away, and everyone was thrilled, especially Mrs. Alice Morgan, the matron of the baby home. Three years later, just when everyone thought theyd seen the last of him, Glen was brought back.
Turns out the foster family had a new baby of their own and suddenly Glen wasnt needed at all. When they returned him, he was no longer the tiny Watermelon theyd known. Hed grown into a slim, brighteyed boy, a little ahead of his years. It was obvious someone had been looking after him, but no one could understand why theyd let him go so easily. It broke all our hearts to see him crying for his mum, dad, grandma staring out the window for hours, hoping someone would appear.
Summer rolled around and the kids were spending most of their time outside. Glen stopped waiting for anyone and stopped trusting adults. He kept to himself, playing alone in quiet corners. Then, out of nowhere, a cat showed up.
The cat, a scruffy little thing they eventually called Moxie, appeared at the baby home about a year before. Keeping a cat there was against the rules, so Mrs. Morgan tried everything to get rid of him. She gave him to the kitchen maid, but he slipped back. She sent him away five times, but each time he returned with a stubborn grin. The kitchen maid, Aunt Jane, tried to keep him, but hed follow her to work and make such a racket that she was forced to let him out. She started calling him Moxie because he was always up to mischief.
In the end, Moxie became Glens unlikely best friend. The boy, after befriending the cat, opened up a lot more and started smiling again. Mrs. Morgan, seeing the change, put Moxie in a carrier and took him to the vet just to be sure he was healthy. After that she could finally relax. Glen barely noticed the cats brief absence, but Moxie seemed to hold a grudge against Mrs. Morgan for ever thinking of sending him away.
Soon another family showed interest in adopting Glen. They visited, but something about him didnt click, so they left, promising to discuss it at home and come back. Mrs. Morgan knew they wouldnt return, and Glen stayed put.
Life for Glen didnt change much, except now he and Moxie were inseparable. The cat would bring him little gifts, like a dead mouse, earning a scolding from Aunt Jane each time. A few weeks later, a couple arrived they already had a daughter but wanted to give a baby from the home a chance at a family life. They werent desperate for a child; they just wanted to help a little orphan have a better shot at happiness.
Mrs. Morgan liked them straight away they seemed genuinely kind. Glen warmed to them instantly, and when they heard his story that hed been turned away twice they decided without a second thought to adopt him. It turned out his future dad, Simon, was the same Simon whose son had found Glen on the baby homes step all those years ago.
Uncle George, still chuckling, lifted Glen onto his knee and said, Well, look at you, lad! Turns out weve known each other forever. I even gave you your name! Funny how life works, isnt it? Youre practically my grandson now, a bit lost but will be looked after proper.
Glen didnt quite get the whole speech, but he smiled and nodded. Everyone else was shocked by the coincidence, yet all of us were over the moon.
When the adults said goodbye to the staff and headed to the car, Glen suddenly stopped, started crying, and wouldnt calm down. Tina (the mom) tried to soothe him, not knowing why he was upset. Mrs. Morgan explained that it was Moxies doing the cat was sitting a little apart, watching his little owner with a solemn face.
So that day the family grew by two: a wonderful son and an equally wonderful cat. And thats how Glens story went from a doorstep mystery to a happy home, all thanks to a stubborn groundskeeper, a mischievous cat, and a small town that never stops believing in a good turn.
