On a sweltering afternoon in the small village, I—Hanh—was crouched down, gathering dry twigs to start a fire. My ten-year-old son stood by the doorway, gazing at me with wide, innocent eyes.
“Mom, why don’t I have a father like the other children?” he asked softly.
I found myself at a loss for words. A decade has passed since that question was first voiced, yet I still lack an answer that could comfort him.
Years Filled with Ridicule and Shame
When news of my pregnancy spread through the village, rumors flourished like wildfire:
“What disgrace! Pregnant without a husband! A stain on her family’s honor!”
I clenched my teeth and endured the harsh whispers. As my belly swelled, I toiled wherever possible, from weeding fields and harvesting rice to washing dishes in a small eatery.
Some villagers showed their contempt by throwing garbage before my doorstep, while others muttered loudly as they passed me by:
“The father must have run away… who would want to be connected to such shame?”
They were unaware that the man I cherished had been overjoyed when he learned of my pregnancy. He promised to return home to seek his parents’ blessing for our marriage. I trusted him completely.
Yet, the very next day, he vanished without a trace. Since then, every morning and evening, I waited in vain for his return.
As years unfolded, I raised my son alone. There were nights when I resented him for the pain he symbolized; others when tears fell silently as I prayed for his father’s survival, although he had long since forgotten us.
A Decade of Relentless Struggle
With unwavering determination, I labored tirelessly to send my son to school. Every coin was saved; every hardship borne in silence.
- When other children teased him for lacking a father, I embraced him tightly and whispered, “You have me, my son. That is all you truly need.”
Despite my words, the villagers’ sharp comments pierced my heart repeatedly. Late at night, while my son slept peacefully, I sat by the lamp, reflecting on the man I once loved—his gentle eyes, his warm smile—and wept quietly.
The Day Luxury Cars Stopped Outside Our Home
One rainy morning, as I mended my son’s clothes, the loud roar of engines shattered the calm. Curious neighbors stepped outside.
Several sleek, black luxury cars had lined up in front of our modest house, clearly traveling from the city. Whispers spread among the onlookers:
“Goodness, these cars must cost millions!”
Trembling, I took my son’s hand and stepped outside. A door opened, and an elderly man dressed in a black suit descended, tears brimming in his eyes. He gazed at me intently, then knelt silently in the muddy path.
I was frozen in place.
“Please, stand up. What are you doing?” I urged.
He gripped my hand, his voice quivering:
“For ten years… ten long years I’ve been searching for you and my grandson.”
The entire village fell silent.
“My… grandson?” I whispered, my voice breaking.
He revealed an aged photograph of the man I once loved—it was unmistakably him.
Tears streamed down my face uncontrolled.
He shared the tragic tale: the day I announced my pregnancy, his son had been ecstatic and hurried to seek his parents’ approval for marriage. But on his way back, he was involved in a fatal car accident.
He died that very day.
For a decade, the father of this man tirelessly searched to find me, finally tracing my name through old hospital records and traveling across provinces until he reached our home.
The Revelation That Moved an Entire Village
The elderly gentleman turned toward the cars. From one vehicle, a driver emerged and opened a door, revealing the emblem of Lam Gia Group—the country’s largest corporation.
Neighbors were astonished.
“My goodness… this child is the sole grandson of President Lam!” murmured many.
The old man extended his hand to my son, tears in his eyes, and said:
“Starting today, my boy, you will never suffer again. You carry the blood of the Lam family.”
I stood there, tears flowing freely as the weight of years gradually lifted from my shoulders. Those who once looked down on me lowered their gazes in respect. Some neighbors even knelt before me in apology.
Conclusion – A New Beginning
As my son and I departed from the village, the rain began to fall once more—just like ten years ago. Yet, this time, it brought no curse.
I have come to understand that no matter how much the world may scorn you, remaining steadfast and true leads to truth’s ultimate victory.
Once the subject of ridicule, today I walk proudly with my son by my side, a serene smile illuminating my face, embracing a hopeful future.