Ant McPartlin Gifts 365 Books to Orphanage in Leeds — But One Handwritten Line in the Final Book Made a 12-Year-Old Cry

After learning that an orphanage in Leeds had no library, Ant bought 365 books — one for each day of the year. In the final book, “The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse,” Ant wrote by hand: “You never had a father — and I never had a child. But if I could choose, I would like to be the father who reads to you every night.”

Ant’s Gift of Stories: A Year of Books and a Life-Changing Note

In the heart of Leeds, where the River Aire winds through a city of old stone buildings and modern dreams, stood a modest orphanage called Hope Haven. It was a place of warmth and resilience, where children without families found solace in shared laughter and the care of dedicated staff. But one thing was missing—a library. The shelves in the common room were bare, save for a few tattered paperbacks and outdated magazines. For the children of Hope Haven, stories were a luxury they could rarely afford.

Ant McPartlin, one half of Britain’s beloved duo Ant & Dec, learned of this during a quiet visit to Leeds for a charity event. He’d been invited to speak at a local fundraiser, his infectious Geordie charm lighting up the room as he shared stories of his career. But it was during a tour of Hope Haven that his heart caught in his throat. A staff member, Sarah, mentioned in passing that the kids loved stories but had no books to call their own. “They make up their own tales,” she said, smiling sadly. “But they dream of adventures beyond these walls.”

Ant listened, his usual playful demeanor giving way to something deeper. He pictured his own childhood, curled up with a book, escaping into worlds of pirates and dragons. These kids, he thought, deserved that same magic. As he left the orphanage, waving to the children who’d crowded around for selfies, an idea took root. By the time he was back in his hotel room, it had grown into a plan.

He didn’t tell anyone—not even Dec, his best mate and partner-in-crime. Ant wanted this to be a surprise, a gift that would belong entirely to the kids. Over the next week, he worked tirelessly, scouring bookshops and online stores, curating a collection of 365 books—one for every day of the year. He chose stories of every kind: tales of courage like Harry Potter, whimsical journeys like The Chronicles of Narnia, and heartfelt classics like Charlotte’s Web. He picked books with heroes who looked like the kids at Hope Haven—diverse, brave, and full of dreams. Picture books for the youngest, mysteries for the teens, and everything in between.

It wasn’t just about the books. Ant wanted the children to feel seen, to know that someone out there cared enough to fill their world with stories. He spent hours researching, ensuring each book was age-appropriate and sparked imagination. By the time the collection was complete, boxes upon boxes arrived at a local warehouse, ready for delivery.

On a crisp autumn morning, Ant returned to Hope Haven, this time with a delivery van in tow. The staff were in on the secret, their eyes gleaming with excitement as they ushered the children into the common room. The kids, ranging from toddlers to teens, buzzed with curiosity, whispering about the “big surprise” Sarah had hinted at. When Ant walked in, pushing a cart stacked with colorful books, the room erupted in gasps and cheers.

“Alright, you lot!” Ant grinned, his voice warm and teasing. “I heard you like stories, so I brought you a few. One for every day of the year!”

The children swarmed the cart, their hands reaching for glossy covers and bright illustrations. A five-year-old named Ollie clutched a copy of The Gruffalo, his eyes wide as he traced the monster’s knobbly knees. A teenager named Aisha flipped through The Hate U Give, her fingers lingering on the pages as if they held secrets she needed to hear. The room filled with the rustle of pages and the hum of excited voices, each child lost in their own new world.

Ant stayed all morning, sitting cross-legged on the floor, reading aloud to the younger ones while the older kids sprawled on beanbags, already deep into their books. He laughed as Ollie reenacted the Gruffalo’s roar and listened as Aisha shyly shared how the book’s heroine reminded her of herself. The staff watched in awe, their hearts swelling at the sight of children who’d known too much hardship now glowing with joy.

But Ant had one more surprise, one he’d kept even from the staff. Among the 365 books was a special copy of The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse by Charlie Mackesy, a story of love and belonging that had touched Ant deeply. He’d saved it for last, slipping it onto the shelf himself. Inside the front cover, he’d written a note by hand, his pen trembling slightly as he poured his heart onto the page.

That afternoon, a twelve-year-old girl named Sophie found the book. She was a quiet child, often lost in thought, her dark curls falling over her face as she read. Sophie had been at Hope Haven since she was three, her parents gone before she could remember their faces. Books were her refuge, but she’d never owned one of her own. When she opened The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse, she noticed the handwriting inside and froze.

The note read: “You never had a father—and I never had a child. But if I could choose, I would like to be the father who reads to you every night.”

Sophie’s breath hitched. She read the words again, then again, her fingers tracing Ant’s careful handwriting. Tears welled in her eyes, spilling over as she hugged the book to her chest. Sarah, noticing her distress, knelt beside her. “What’s wrong, love?” she asked softly.

Sophie couldn’t speak. She just handed Sarah the book, the note open for her to see. Sarah’s eyes widened, and she, too, felt a lump in her throat. She looked across the room at Ant, who was helping Ollie stack his new books, unaware of the moment unfolding. Sarah knew this wasn’t just about books anymore—it was about connection, about giving a child like Sophie a glimpse of the love she’d always longed for.

Word of the note spread quietly among the staff, but they respected Ant’s wish to keep it private. Sophie, however, carried the book everywhere, reading it under the covers at night, the words a quiet promise that someone, somewhere, saw her. The other children, too, found solace in their books, reading them at breakfast, trading them with friends, and begging the staff for “just one more chapter” before bed.

As the weeks passed, Hope Haven transformed. The common room, once quiet, was now a library alive with stories. The children wrote their own tales, inspired by the books Ant had given them. Sophie started a book club, her shy voice growing stronger as she shared her love for the mole and the horse. And every night, she read Ant’s note again, a reminder that she was not alone.

Ant didn’t stop at the books. He returned to Hope Haven often, reading to the kids and listening to their stories. He never spoke of the note, but when Sophie hugged him during one visit, her book clutched tightly, he knew she’d found it. And in that moment, he felt a warmth he’d never known—a sense of being not just a TV star, but a father, if only for a fleeting, beautiful moment.

The 365 books became more than stories; they became a lifeline, a spark of hope for 365 days and beyond. And for Sophie, one handwritten line became the greatest gift of all—a story of love that she would carry forever.