A Hot Afternoon in the Village
It was a scorching afternoon in the village.
I, Hanh, knelt down collecting dry branches to ignite a fire.
Nearby, my ten-year-old son gazed at me with his innocent eyes.
— Mom, why don’t I have a dad, like my friends do?
I found myself at a loss for words. A decade has gone by, and the answer to this question still eludes me.
Years of Teasing and Shame
When I found out I was pregnant, the whispers began to circulate around the village:
“What a disgrace! Pregnant without a husband! A shame for her family!”
I gritted my teeth and endured everything.
With my belly growing, I laboriously worked wherever I could: weeding, harvesting rice, and washing dishes at a small eatery.
Some would throw trash in front of my home, while others would mock as they passed by:
“Your child’s father must have fled… who would want to carry such shame?”
They were unaware that the man I loved had been overjoyed when he learned I was expecting.
He had promised to return home to speak with his parents and seek their blessing for our marriage.
I believed him wholeheartedly.
However, the next day, he vanished without a trace.
Since then, I’ve awaited his return each morning and every evening—hopelessly.
Years passed, and I raised my son alone.
There were nights when I resented him for reminding me of my pain; other times, I cried, hoping that his father was alive… even if he had forgotten me long ago.
Ten Years of Struggle
I toiled tirelessly to send my son to school.
I saved every penny, swallowing every tear.
When other children teased him for lacking a father, I would hug him tightly and say:
“You have your mother, my son. That is all you need.”
Yet, the words of others pierced my heart like knives, over and over again.
At night, while he slept, I would sit by the lamp, reminiscing about the man I loved—his smile, his gentle eyes—and I would silently weep.
The Day Luxury Cars Stopped in Front of My Home
On a rainy morning, as I was sewing my son’s clothes, I heard the deafening roar of multiple engines.
The neighbors emerged, curious.
In front of my modest home, several shiny black cars parked—clearly from the city.
Whispers began:
“Goodness! These cars must be worth millions!”
Trembling, I took my son’s hand and stepped outside.
The door of one car swung open, and an elderly man with white hair emerged, dressed in a black suit. His eyes were filled with tears.
He stared at me intently, and before I could utter a word, he knelt in the mud.
I froze.
— Please, get up! What are you doing?
He grasped my hand, his voice trembling:
“Ten years… Ten years I have searched for you, and for my grandson.”
Everyone in the village stood still.
— My… grandson? I whispered, my voice breaking.
He pulled out an old photograph—the face of the man I had loved.
It was him. An exact likeness.
My tears streamed uncontrollably.
The old man continued: the day I shared my pregnancy news, his son had been ecstatic and rushed to seek his parents’ blessing for our wedding.
But on his way back… he suffered a car accident.
He had died that day.
For ten years, his father searched relentlessly to find me.
Only by going through old hospital records had he managed to discover my name.
He traveled through multiple provinces until he found my home.
The Truth that Made the Whole Village Weep
The elderly man turned toward the cars.
A driver emerged and opened a door.
On the side of the vehicle, one could see the logo of the Lâm Gia Group—the largest company in the country.
The villagers were astonished.
“Oh my goodness… that child is the only grandson of President Lâm!” the neighbors whispered.
The old man approached my son, took his hand, and with tears in his eyes, said:
“From today onwards, my boy, you shall never suffer again. You are blood of the Lâm family.”
As I stood there, in tears, I felt the weight of those years gradually lifting.
The gazes that once looked down on me have turned away.
Some neighbors even knelt to ask for my forgiveness.
Epilogue
When my son and I left the village, rain fell once again—just like a decade ago.
This time, however, I didn’t see it as a curse.
I now understand that even if the world scorns you, staying strong and true leads to truth prevailing in the end.
I, the mother who was once ridiculed by all, now walk with my head held high, hand in hand with my son, a serene smile on my face.