I didn’t know what I was supposed to feel. Anger because he bought me? Or compassion, because his heart was filled with loneliness?
The years passed. I studied hard, and little by little, Don Victor became like a real father to me. I even started calling him “Father Victor.” I sent part of my allowance to Mama and Papa, but for several years, I heard nothing from them. Until one day, Father Victor came to see me while I was studying at the university.
“Lara,” he said, “there’s something you need to know.”
There was a sadness on his face that I had never seen before.
“Your father has passed away. And your mother… she’s in the hospital. She wants to see you.”
We went home immediately.
When we arrived at the hospital, I saw Mama—thin, weak, barely able to speak. When she saw me, tears streamed down her face.
“My child…” she whispered, “forgive me. I only did that because I didn’t want you to die of hunger. I thought I would lose you forever.”
I held her hand.
“I don’t need to forgive you, Ma. Because if not for what you did… I might never have met Father Victor. I wouldn’t have been able to study. I wouldn’t have learned how to love, even though I was hurt.”
At that moment, I saw Father Victor smile and place his hand on my shoulder.
“She’s right. Sometimes, pain becomes the path to a new beginning.”
A few weeks later, Mama passed away—peacefully, with a smile on her lips. I forgave her for everything, and at last, I forgave myself as well.
Years later, I graduated from college and became a social worker. In every child I now care for, I see the version of myself who was once lost in the darkness. Father Victor is always there, quietly sitting on the porch, immensely proud of me.
One day, as we drank coffee on the veranda, he said,
“Lara, perhaps it’s time for me to rest. You should continue my projects for underprivileged children.”
I smiled.
“I can’t promise perfect results, Father. But I promise I’ll give everything I have—just as you gave everything to me.”
And for the last time, he held my hand and looked up at the sky.
“Now, I know my life still has meaning.”
Sometimes, the wounds of the past don’t need to be erased—because they show us how time has changed us. The child who was once sold because of poverty is now giving hope to others. And the man who lost his daughter found a new reason to live.
Because sometimes, the people who enter our lives—even in the most painful ways—turn out to be the greatest blessings we never expected.