Ellie Yeater does not squander her leisure time on computer games, go out with friends, or swim in pools throughout the summer.
During her summer vacation, the 14-year-old Williamstown, West Virginia, native converted a 1974 Wilderness camper into a place she calls a “Glamper.”The word “glamper” is created by combining the concepts “glamorous” with “camping.”She said that camping will be much more fun and less laborious with the new Wilderness glamper.
She’s an aspiring high school student; just wait to see her gorgeously restored Wilderness camper.
Through housekeeping, birthday money, and other activities, she saved up roughly $500, according to the child’s mother Lori, to buy and renovate the camper.
This is a photo of the camper before any modifications were made.
Yeater said she saw her camper listed on a neighborhood bulletin board for $200.
She paid for paint, flooring, linens, and other glamper accessories using the money she had left over after buying the camper.
Ellie says the camper was in terrible shape because the previous owners used it for both hunting and camping. It took a lot of work to complete. stated her mother.
It was her older brother Isaiah who came up with the original plan to build a tiny camper.
She says that Isaiah built a small cabin for him and his friends to hang out in, and she wanted something “cuter” and closer to the house for her friend since she required Wi-Fi and electricity.
She had to start her business by dismantling and cleaning the camper completely.
She then went ahead and painted the camper using Valspar’s “Mystic Sea” shade.
After everything was disassembled, Ellie cleans up any excess glue that may have gotten on the floor in the image above.
The picture above also shows her grandfather Lawrence teaching her some basic carpentry techniques like bracing and hole-patching.
Ellie then chose her favorite color scheme, a shade of aqua blue, for the next step.
Ellie paints the interior with great care, giving the dull wood theme a brighter look.
In the photo below, you can see that the camper’s interior is starting to take shape.
In the latter stages, the finishing touches were applied. Ellie’s grandmother Mary helped with the upholstery of the curtains and sofa cushions as Ellie installed new floor tiles.
Ellie mentioned that she spent the summer gathering a lot of stuff for her glamper.
In the photo below, you can see her carrying in a mannequin decoration that she purchased from a warehouse that recently closed.
She claimed that Pinterest was a huge source of inspiration for her project and that it was really helpful.
Ellie is constantly adding finishing touches to the almost finished Glamper, such as a retro electric fan, an antique camera, and matching napkins made by her grandmother.
When asked what she wants to do when the project is done, she says she might just spend some peaceful time reading and playing the ukulele, or she might have a sleepover with her friends.
Ellie used her determination to build an amazing glamper. For someone her age to take on such a big job by themselves is amazing.
When Ellie’s mother is questioned about why her daughter would accept such a task, she replies, “I have never told her that she couldn’t do anything.”
And inspired by it, Ellie set out to make something really beautiful.
When we see Ellie’s project as a completed work, we must always remember that hard work always pays off. Whatever we set our minds to, we can accomplish.
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My Stepmom Returned My Prom Dress to the Store Just a Day Before the Dance — the Reason Left Me Speechless
The night before prom, Gia is ready to lay out her clothes and have an easy night. But as she opens her closet to take out her dress, she finds it missing. Later, she discovers that her stepmother, Cindy, had returned the dress to the store… What on earth could be the reason?
My mom died when I was ten.
It was sudden, like the world had just stopped spinning. One minute, she was tucking me into bed, and the next, she was gone.
Flowers on a headstone | Source: Midjourney
“I’ll always be with you, Gia,” she said one day as she tucked me in, her hands shaking wildly. “Whether I’m right next to you or not, I’ll always be here. Do you understand?”
I remember nodding sleepily as she kissed my cheek.
Losing her crushed my dad and me in ways I still can’t put into words. We were just completely… lost.
A woman tucking her daughter into bed | Source: Midjourney
Then, a few years later, Dad married someone new. Cindy. Now, Cindy wasn’t evil or cruel or anything like that. If I’m being honest, she tried. She smiled a lot, bought me gifts, and cooked things that I enjoyed eating. She even waited for me to come home from school, ready to make me a toasted sandwich while asking me about my day.
But no matter what Cindy did, she wasn’t my mom. My heart just didn’t seem to let her in. And because of that, we never really clicked on a personal level.
A smiling couple | Source: Midjourney
Fast forward to senior year:
I’m 17 and waiting for prom. And for the first time in forever, I felt excited about something. Dad gave me a budget for a dress, and I spent weeks scouring the internet for ideas.
When I finally found it, a gorgeous deep-blue gown that made me feel like an actual princess, I knew that it was the one.
A smiling teenage girl | Source: Midjourney
“That’s it, Gia!” my friend Selene said as I stepped out of the dressing room.
“You think?” I asked. “You really think so?”
“Yes! Your eyes pop with the blue, and your skin looks so good with it. This is it, Gia. Don’t even waste your time looking for another dress.”
I smiled.
“Fine, let’s focus on you now,” I said.
A teenage girl in a dressing room | Source: Midjourney
Standing in front of the mirror at the boutique, I felt like I could see the old me again, the one from before my life flipped upside down. There was a light in my eyes again.
Everything seemed perfect. For once, it felt like the universe was giving me a break. But that all shattered the day before prom.
I got home from school, ready to get into a bubble bath, shave, wash my hair, and have an early night. I was going to lay everything out before I went to bed — my dress, shoes, makeup options, all of it.
A teenage girl’s vanity | Source: Midjourney
I ran up the stairs and flung my closet door open, hoping to give my dress a look-over before I got into the bath.
But it wasn’t there.
All I saw was the empty hanger.
I blinked hard, as if somehow my dream dress would magically appear before my eyes. Of course, it didn’t.
Where on earth is my dress?
An empty hanger | Source: Midjourney
I yanked things off hangers and tore through drawers. Maybe I’d been careless and shoved it somewhere, right?
But deep down, I knew I hadn’t. I was so paranoid about wrinkling the dress that I had taken clothes off the hanger the day I brought it home. That dress had been the centerpiece of my week. I would never have misplaced it.
I ran downstairs, hoping to see my dad. He would have answers.
A close up of a teenage girl | Source: Midjourney
Instead, Cindy was sitting at the kitchen island, cutting into veggies and sipping her tea like nothing was wrong.
“Gigi,” she said, using a name that only my dad called me. “Dad is away for the night because of work. He said that he’ll try to be back in time to see you off tomorrow.”
How could she talk like nothing happened? Like nothing was wrong?
A woman busy in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
“Cindy!” I exclaimed. “Have you seen my prom dress? It’s gone!”
She looked up, completely calm, like I hadn’t just dropped a bomb in the middle of the kitchen. I was starting to feel panicked. I could taste bitterness on my tongue. I was on the verge of a breakdown.
“Oh, that? Gia, I returned that to the store.”
“You did what?” I gasped.
A shocked teenage girl | Source: Midjourney
It felt like my brain had short-circuited.
“I returned it,” she repeated as if she was telling me she’d picked up groceries at the store. “It just didn’t seem right, Gigi. It was too grown-up for you.”
I stood there, unable to move.
“How could you do that? Prom is tomorrow evening! Why would you touch my stuff without asking me?”
A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney
Cindy tilted her head like I was overreacting.
“You’ll understand tomorrow,” she said quietly, sipping her tea.
Her nonchalance lit something inside me. I couldn’t believe she was acting so casual, like she hadn’t just taken the one thing I’d been looking forward to for months and thrown it in the trash.
I stormed up to my room, slamming the door so hard the walls shook. I buried my face in my pillow, tears soaking into the fabric.
An upset girl | Source: Midjourney
How could she do this to me?
That night, I cried myself to sleep, my anger burning hot and bitter. I felt betrayed. She had no right to mess with my dress. She had no right to interfere with my prom.
But what did I expect?
Cindy wasn’t my mother.
An upset girl in her bed | Source: Midjourney
The next morning, I woke up to the heavy weight of disappointment. I didn’t even want to go to prom anymore.
What was the point?
But Selene wasn’t having it.
“You need to find out why she did it,” she said over the phone. “It’s weird, right? Like, she has to have a reason. Just… talk to her, Gia.”
A girl talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
I rolled my eyes.
“There’s no reason good enough for what she did.”
“Maybe,” Selene said. “But don’t you want to know?”
Selene had a point, and she knew it. So, against my better judgment, I dragged myself out of bed and went downstairs.
A girl talking on a phone | Source: Midjourney
Cindy was waiting for me, dressed in jeans and an old sweatshirt, looking more nervous than I’d ever seen her.
“Come with me, Gigi,” she said quietly.
I stared at her for a long second. A part of me wanted to blow her off entirely. But there was something in her voice, something soft.
A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney
Without a word, I followed her to her bedroom.
There was a box on her bed, wrapped in a bow.
“This belonged to your mom,” Cindy whispered, her voice catching. “I found it while cleaning a few weeks ago. I’ve been wanting to turn the attic into something new, like a little reading room.”
I froze.
A box on a bed | Source: Midjourney
My heart hammered in my chest as she peeled away the tissue paper, revealing an elegant, vintage white dress. It was stunning — lace sleeves, delicate beadwork, the kind of timeless beauty that would never go out of style.
Cindy glanced up at me, her hands trembling slightly.
“I thought maybe you’d like to wear it. To prom. When I returned the blue dress, I took this one to be dry-cleaned.”
A dress in a box | Source: Midjourney
For a moment, I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t even think.
All the anger, all the resentment, all the hurt I’d held onto melted into shock.
“I wasn’t trying to hurt you, my darling,” Cindy whispered. “I just thought that this way, your mom could be with you. I will never replace her, Gia. But I wanted to give you something that mattered.”
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
Tears welled up in my eyes before I could stop them. All this time, I’d been so sure she was trying to ruin my prom. But instead, she was giving me the most meaningful gift she ever could.
That night, I wore my mom’s dress to prom.
As soon as I slipped it on, I felt her with me, like she was wrapping me in a hug. The dress fit perfectly. Cindy helped me with my hair, and for the first time, I saw her not as someone trying to replace my mom, but as someone who cared. For me. Deeply.
A crying teenage girl | Source: Midjourney
When I walked downstairs, my dad was waiting. His eyes widened, and his breath caught.
“Thank goodness I made it,” he said, tears brimming in his eyes. “You look just like Mom!”
A close up of a man | Source: Midjourney
The prom was magical. And as I danced with my friends, I saw once again that Cindy hadn’t stolen anything from me. She’d given me something priceless.
A way to feel connected with my mom again. And I felt so beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.
A teenage girl in her prom dress | Source: Midjourney
When I got home, Cindy was sitting on the couch wrapped in a blanket.
“You’re waiting up for me?” I asked, kicking off my shoes.
“Of course, my darling,” she said. “I wanted to know how your night went. And I’ve got ice cream in the freezer. Mint choc-chip. Your favorite. We can eat it while you tell me.”
That’s when I broke down. In that moment, I knew Cindy wasn’t just my dad’s wife. She was someone who loved me, too.
And maybe, just maybe, that was going to be enough.
A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
What would you have done?
If you’ve enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you:
I Opened My Closet on the Morning of Prom to Find My Dress Covered in Black Paint – But Karma Was Not Sleeping
When I found my dream prom dress destroyed by black paint, I thought everything was lost. Little did I know, karma was waiting in the wings, ready to turn the cruel plan upside down and ruin the day some people tried to make perfect at my expense.
I was 18, a senior in high school, and prom was all I could think about. I was supposed to dance with my friends, wear the perfect dress, and make memories.
A smiling high school senior | Source: Midjourney
After months of saving, I finally bought the most beautiful baby blue gown. It was everything I’d ever dreamed of — elegant and classic, making me feel like a princess.
My dad was just as excited as I was. The only bitter moment was that my mom wouldn’t be there to see me. She had passed away years ago, and since then, it had just been me, Dad, and my stepmom, Carol.
A girl at a funeral | Source: Midjourney
Now, Carol was… well, she was complicated.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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