— I am Fernando. Thank you for your help, Lupita — he said, without a hint of irony, even though he was not the type to thank often.
The girl shrugged, as if her gesture was natural. Then she turned back to the sidewalk, grabbing the box of gum again. But Fernando remained deep in thought. Something didn’t add up. The girl seemed too confident, too attentive to details. And especially… her eyes. They reminded him of someone.
— Hey, wait a minute — he said. — You said you help Mr. Chui?
— Yes. After school… I mean, whenever I can. When I’m not selling gum.
— And your parents?
She looked at him with a sharp gaze.
— My mom died. Dad… it doesn’t matter. I’m with Mrs. Mariana, but we don’t have money.
Fernando took out his wallet. He wanted to hand her a bill, but he stopped. Lupita looked at the gesture and shook her head.
— I’m not doing this for money. I just wanted to help.
Then, smiling as if she hadn’t said anything heavy, she walked away. Fernando got into his car, but he didn’t start it right away. The thought of those eyes haunted him. After an hour, he went to the workshop the girl had mentioned.
— Mr. Chui?
A grizzled man emerged from under a car, wiping his hands on a rag.
— Yes. How can I help you?
— A girl named Lupita told me you help her around here.
Mr. Chui smiled warmly.
— Ah, little Lupita. Smarter than many adults. If she were in school properly, she would have become an engineer. Or who knows, a doctor.
— She doesn’t go to school?
— She goes when she can. But it’s hard. She also takes care of a sick old lady… I think they’re related. She doesn’t ask for anything, but she works like an adult. That’s a child raised with hardship.
The next day, Fernando returned. He found her in the same corner, with the same old box. This time, he got out directly and said:
— Do you want to come with me? I need an assistant at the office. It’s honest work. And I can help you go to school.
Lupita looked at him for a long time, skeptical. Then she smiled shyly.
— Only if I can go to school and take care of Mrs. Mariana as well.
— That was my idea too.
They left together, her with the box in hand, him with the promise that her life would change. And he didn’t know how much. For years later, when Fernando was to die, his will clearly stated: “Everything I have goes to the daughter that fate sent me in the middle of the street when I didn’t even know I needed her.”
On his grave, one spring day, a young woman dressed in a white coat came, holding an old box in her arms and with bright eyes, just like back then: Lupita.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or to real events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher do not assume responsibility for the accuracy of events or for how characters are portrayed and are not liable for any misinterpretations. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed belong to the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
