A Millionaire’s Surprising Encounter
José Márquez was taken aback when he realized that a housekeeper cared for his daughter even more than his own wife did, after he caught her defending Julia during an argument with her mother.
On a warm October afternoon in Mexico City, José returned home from a two-week business trip. At the age of 45, he had established a thriving real estate empire, allowing him to reside in a luxurious villa located in the upscale Polanco neighborhood. However, this success came at a cost. He rarely found the time to be present for his 12-year-old daughter, Julia, who had been born with congenital blindness.
As he ascended the marble staircase toward the second floor, he heard raised voices coming from Julia’s room. One voice he instantly recognized was Susana, his second wife, whom he had married three years prior. The other voice, unfamiliar yet commanding, belonged to a protective presence.
“This child needs to leave this room and learn to be independent,” Susana shouted. “She’s already 12 and acts like a baby.”
“Please, Mrs. Susana, lower your voice. Julia is scared,” replied the other voice, which had a sing-song provincial accent. “She’s a child in need of patience and affection.” Jose inched closer to the ajar door and saw a woman with chestnut hair tied back in a ponytail, dressed in the blue uniform of the housekeeping staff.
She positioned herself between Susana and Julia, who was curled up on the bed with a teddy bear in her arms. “You are merely a housekeeper. You have no right to interfere with the upbringing of a child in this house,” Susana accused, pointing at the woman, who José estimated to be around 35 years old. Taking a deep breath, the woman replied.
“My name is Teresa Montes, and when I agree to take care of a home, I care for everyone who lives there. Julia is a sweet and intelligent child. What she needs is love, not shouting.”
Susana stepped menacingly toward Teresa. “You are fired. Pack your things and leave today.” At that moment, Julia began to quietly cry, prompting Teresa to kneel beside the bed. “It’s alright, darling. I’m here,” she whispered, gently holding the child’s hand. José felt a tightening in his chest. When was the last time someone treated his daughter with such tenderness? When had he himself last sat beside her in this way? He pushed the door open and stepped inside. “What’s going on here?” Susana whipped around, fixing her hair. “José! I’m so glad you’re back. This employee is insolent and meddles in Julia’s upbringing.” Teresa stood up, maintaining her composure despite the tension in the air. Her brown eyes met José’s, conveying a calm yet resolute message. “Señor Márquez, I apologize for the disturbance. I only wished to protect Julia from hurtful words.”
José glanced at Julia, who still trembled on the bed, then back at Teresa, who remained poised despite the accusations, and finally at Susana, whose irritation was barely concealed. “Teresa, is it?” he asked gently. She nodded. “How long have you been working here?”
“For six months, señor.” Six months. During all his travels, an unfamiliar woman had become the most caring influence in his daughter’s life, and he didn’t even know her full name. “Papa,” Julia called out in a tiny voice, “Teresa always helps me when you’re not here, she reads me stories and teaches me new things.” José’s throat tightened. When had he last read a story to Julia? “Susana. We need to talk in the living room, now.” His voice came out firmer than he expected. He turned to Teresa. “Please stay with Julia. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
As he left the room, José heard Teresa whispering to the child: “How about I tell you about the little birds I saw in the garden this morning?” The soft sound of Julia answering enthusiastically was the last thing he heard before closing the door, leaving him with a troubling question: who was Teresa Montes really? And why did she care so deeply for a child she hardly knew? The next day, José decided to do something he hadn’t done in months: work from home.
He settled in his office overlooking the garden and, for the first time, truly paid attention to what transpired in his own household. Through the window, he spotted Teresa teaching Julia how to tend to the plants on the second-floor balcony. “Touch this leaf, Julia. It’s soft, isn’t it?” Teresa guided the girl’s hand gently. “Now, breathe in its scent. Do you recognize this smell? It’s basil.” Julia laughed proudly. “Like the one Grandma Carmen planted at the house by the sea.” José felt a pang in his heart. Carmen was the mother of his first wife, Lucía, who had passed away when Julia was just two years old. How did Teresa know about this family connection?
At lunch, he watched their interactions from the corner of his eye. Teresa cut Julia’s food into small pieces without making a fuss. She described the dishes so that the child could “see” them through her other senses and held an engaging conversation about Julia’s classes at the specialized school. “Teresa,” José gently interjected, “how did you learn so much about supporting visually impaired children?” Teresa lowered her gaze, hesitant. “My younger sister was also born blind, señor Márquez. I grew up knowing she needed independence, but with kindness and love.”
“And where is your sister now?” asked Julia, her curiosity piqued. “She graduated in music and teaches piano in Puebla, my hometown,” replied Teresa proudly. “She always says that blindness doesn’t define her: it only changes how she perceives the world.
Conclusion: In witnessing the bond between Teresa and Julia, José began to see the importance of genuine care and attention in his daughter’s life. This experience prompted him to reevaluate his priorities and consider the invaluable role that love and patience play in raising a child.