By the time Dolores reached her small wooden house, the storm had passed, leaving puddles that mirrored the gray sky. She placed the packet of noodles on the table, beside her lamp, and wiped her eyes.
She was hungry. She boiled water and carefully tore open the packet.
Frowning, she reached inside—and froze.
Her fingers touched paper, not plastic.
Inside the packet, beneath the dry noodles, was a sealed white envelope.
Her heart began to race. With trembling hands, she opened it.
Inside was a thick bundle of cash—₱50,000—and a folded note written in her son’s familiar handwriting.
Mom, forgive me for lying. I didn’t want my wife to see. She wouldn’t understand why I helped you. Please use this for your surgery. I love you more than I can say. Your unworthy son, Ramón.
Dolores’s knees gave out. She sank into her chair, the envelope pressed to her chest as tears streamed down her face.
Every drop carried relief, love, and something even deeper—understanding.
The Miracle of Forgiveness
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