He told me he would return to speak to his parents and ask for their blessing to marry me. I believed him with all my heart.
But the next day, he disappeared without a trace.
From then on, I waited every day—no news, no messages.
Years passed, and I raised my son alone.
There were nights when I held a grudge, nights when I cried and prayed that his father was still alive… even though he had forgotten me.
Ten Years of Struggle
To be able to send him to school, I worked tirelessly. I saved every coin, I swallowed every tear.
When the classmates teased him about not having a father, I would hug him and whisper:
“You have a mother, son. And that’s enough.”
But people’s words were like kn:ives that cut my heart again and again.
At night, while he slept, I would watch the lamplight and remember the man I loved—his smile, his eyes full of warmth—and I would cry silently.

The Day the Luxury Cars Pulled Up in Front of My House
One rainy morning, I was mending my son’s clothes when I heard the roar of several engines.
The neighbors came out curiously.
In front of our humble house, a line of black cars pulled up—clean, expensive, as if they had come from the city.
People began to murmur:… 

The Rain That Changed Everything