The next morning, Helen used the money to schedule her operation.
Days later, as she opened her eyes in the recovery room, the first face she saw was Michael’s. His eyes were red from crying.
Helen smiled weakly and squeezed his fingers.
“Oh, my son,” she said softly. “I never blamed you. I only worried that you’d forget where you came from. Remember, money can always be earned again — but once a mother’s heart is gone, nothing can buy it back.”
Michael bowed his head, tears falling freely. He kissed her hand the way he used to when he was a little boy.
Outside, the sun poured through the hospital window, washing the room in light.
A Son Redeemed
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