The surgeon’s daughter, she had never walked in her life until a homeless boy said, “Let me try.” Dr. Eduardo Hernández watched his daughter Valeria through the glass of the physical therapy room at San Ángel Hospital in Mexico City, as she sat motionless in her special wheelchair. At two and a half years old, the blonde girl had never taken a single step, and every consultation with the best specialists in the country brought the same discouraging diagnosis.

That’s when he felt someone gently tugging at his white coat. Looking down, he saw a boy of about four years old with messy brown hair and worn clothes that looked like they’d seen better days. “Doctor, are you the father of the blonde girl?” the little boy asked, pointing at Valeria. Eduardo was surprised by the question. How had that child gotten into the hospital unaccompanied? He was about to call security when the boy continued, “I can make her walk.”

I know how to help her. Child, you shouldn’t be here alone. Where are your parents? Eduardo replied, trying to remain patient. I don’t have parents, Doctor, but I know things that can help your daughter. I learned taking care of my little sister before she passed away. There was something about the boy’s seriousness that made Eduardo doubt. Valeria, who always remained apathetic during the sessions, had turned toward where they were talking and was extending her little arms through the glass. “What’s your name?” Eduardo asked, crouching down to be at the boy’s eye level.

“My name is Mateo, doctor. I’ve been sleeping on that park bench across from the hospital for the past two months. Every day I come here and watch your daughter through the window.” Eduardo’s heart ached—such a small child living on the streets and still worried about Valeria. “Mateo, what do you know about helping children who can’t walk? My little sister was born like that too. My mom taught me some special exercises that helped her improve. She even started moving her legs before she passed away.”

Eduardo felt a knot in his chest. He had already tried all the conventional treatments, spent a fortune on international specialists, and nothing worked. What did he have to lose by letting that child try? “Dr. Hernández.” The voice of the physical therapist, Daniela, echoed in the hallway. “Valeria’s session is over. There was no response today either. Daniela, I want you to meet Mateo. He has some ideas about exercises for Valeria.” The physical therapist looked the boy up and down with disdain. “Doctor, with all due respect, a street child doesn’t have the medical knowledge to… Let me try, please.”

Mateo interrupted. “Just five minutes. If you don’t answer, I promise to leave and never come back. Dear listener, if you’re enjoying the story, please leave a like and, above all, subscribe to the channel. This helps those of us who are just starting out a lot.” Eduardo looked at Valeria, who for the first time in months was showing interest in something. The girl clapped and smiled, looking at Mateo. “Five minutes,” he finally said, “but I’ll be watching your every move.” Mateo entered the physical therapy room and carefully approached Valeria.

The little girl watched him curiously. Her blue eyes shone in a way Eduardo hadn’t seen in a long time. “Hello, princess,” Mateo said softly. “Do you want to play with me?” Valeria babbled a few unintelligible words and stretched out her little arms toward the boy. Mateo sat on the floor next to the chair and began to sing a soft melody while gently massaging the girl’s feet. “What’s he doing?” Daniela whispered to Eduardo. “It looks like… it looks like a reflexology technique,” Eduardo replied, surprised.

Where would a four-year-old learn that? Mateo continued singing and massaging, alternating between Valeria’s feet and legs. To everyone’s amazement, the little girl began to make sounds of pleasure, and her normally stiff legs seemed more relaxed. “Valeria has never reacted like this to any treatment,” Eduardo murmured, approaching. “She likes music,” Mateo explained without stopping his movements. “All children do. My mother used to say that music awakens parts of the body that were dormant.”

Little by little, something extraordinary began to happen. Valeria slightly twitched her left toe. It was an almost imperceptible movement, but Eduardo, used to observing every tiny sign, noticed it immediately. “Daniela, did you see that?” he whispered. “It must have been an involuntary spasm,” the physical therapist replied, but her voice betrayed uncertainty. Mateo continued for a few more minutes until Valeria yawned and showed signs of tiredness. “That’s enough for today,” the boy said, getting up. She was quite tired. Mateo called Eduardo as the boy headed for the door.

Where did you learn to do that? My mom was a nurse before she got sick. She took care of special needs children at the hospital in our city. When my little sister was born with leg problems, she taught me everything to help her. And where is your mom now? Mateo’s face saddened. She passed away three months ago. She got very sick and couldn’t get better. After she died, I came to Mexico City because she always talked about this hospital. She said the best doctors were here.

Eduardo felt a lump in his throat. That boy had lost his mother, and yet he was thinking of helping other children. Mateo, where are you living? In the square across the way. There’s a bench under a big tree that provides shelter from the rain. This can’t go on. You’re just a child. I’m managing fine, Doctor. And now I have a reason to stay, to help Valeria. That night Eduardo couldn’t sleep. He lay thinking about the boy alone in the square and Valeria’s unexpected reaction to his care.

He arrived early at the hospital that morning and found Mateo sitting on a park bench waiting. “Good morning, doctor,” the boy greeted him cheerfully. “Mateo, come with me. I want to introduce you to someone.” Eduardo took the boy to the office of Dr. Patricia Vega, a child neuropsychiatrist and one of his most respected colleagues. “Patricia, this is Mateo. Yesterday he got a response from Valeria that none of us had been able to get.” Dr. Patricia, a woman with gray hair and a kind gaze, looked at Mateo with interest.

Tell me about the exercises you did with Valeria Mateo. The boy explained the technique in detail, demonstrating the movements with his own hands. The doctor listened attentively, asking specific questions. “This is fascinating,” she said. Finally, Mateo, you described a neurosensory stimulation technique that is usually only known by specialized physical therapists. Where exactly did your mother learn that? She always talked about a Chinese doctor who came to give a course in our city. Dr. Wong, I think that was his name, she said he taught exercises that helped special needs children.

Dr. Patricia and Eduardo exchanged a glance. Dr. Wu Wong was a world-renowned expert in pediatric neurorehabilitation. “Mateo,” Dr. Patricia said gently, “do you remember the name of the city where you lived with your mother?” “Monterrey. My mother’s name was Carmen Flores, and she worked at the University Hospital there.” Eduardo immediately picked up the phone and called the hospital. After several transfers, he finally spoke with the head nurse, Carmen Flores. “Of course I remember her,” he said, “one of the best professionals who ever worked here.”

She participated in an international neurorehabilitation course in 2020 with Dr. Wong. We were very saddened to learn of her passing. She left behind a young son, but we lost contact. Eduardo hung up the phone, his eyes filled with tears. “Mateo, your mother was truly an exceptional professional, and you learned very advanced techniques from her, so I can continue helping Valeria.” “Not only can you, but you must,” Dr. Patricia replied. “But first, we need to resolve your situation. You can’t continue living on the streets.”

I’m doing just fine, Doctor. I don’t want to be a burden to anyone. Mateo said Eduardo, kneeling in front of the boy. You wouldn’t be a burden, you’d be a blessing. How about you stay at my house while you help Valeria? I have a spare room, and you could be close to the hospital every day. Mateo’s eyes filled with tears. Would you do that for me? I would, and I will, but first I want you to promise me something. If at any point you don’t feel comfortable or want to leave, just tell me, okay?

I promise, Doctor. That afternoon, Mateo went home with Eduardo. The surgeon’s residence was elegant yet welcoming, located in an exclusive area of ​​Mexico City. Eduardo’s wife, Mariana, was waiting for them at the door. “So you’re Mateo,” she said, smiling. “Eduardo told me about you. Welcome to our home.” Mariana was a retired teacher, a sweet woman in her fifties who had always longed for more children. When she learned Mateo’s story, her maternal heart was deeply touched.

“Mateo, come here, I want to show you your room,” she said, leading the boy up the stairs. The room was simple but cozy, with a small bed, a wardrobe, and a window overlooking a garden full of flowers. “Is it really mine?” Mateo asked, gently touching the blanket. “It’s yours as long as you want it to be,” Mariana replied, stroking the boy’s hair. That night at dinner, Mateo told her more about his life with his mother. Eduardo and Mariana listened with emotion to the stories of a boy who had matured very quickly but who still held a pure and generous heart.

Mateo, Eduardo said, tomorrow I’ll speak with the hospital administration to formalize your participation in Valeria’s treatment. You’ll work alongside the medical team. I’m serious, I’ll be able to really help. You will, and you will, but I also want you to do other things that children your age do. Play, study, be happy. The next day, Mateo began his routine at the hospital. Every morning he worked with Valeria for two hours, applying the techniques he had learned from his mother. He dedicated his afternoons to normal childhood activities.

Mariana would take him for walks in the park. They bought coloring books, and he started attending a small school near their home. The results with Valeria were amazing. Every day she showed more response. She began to move her toes voluntarily, then her ankles. Mateo always sang the same songs his mother taught him, and Valeria would react with smiles and babble. “Doctor Hernandez,” Daniel said to the physical therapist after a week. “I must admit I was wrong about Mateo.”

“Valeria’s progress is impressive and genuine,” confirmed Dr. Patricia, who was supervising the sessions. Neurological exams show activity in areas of the brain that were previously inactive, but it wasn’t all smooth sailing. Dr. Alejandro Martínez, head of the neurology department, didn’t approve of Mateo’s presence at the hospital. “Eduardo, this is absurd,” he said during a medical meeting. “We can’t allow a child without medical training to treat patients, and if something goes wrong, the hospital will be responsible.”

“Alejandro, the results speak for themselves. Mateo isn’t doing anything that could cause harm; he’s just applying massage and stimulation techniques that are proven safe. And what about our credibility? What will other hospitals say when they find out we’re using a street child as a therapist?” Eduardo felt anger at his colleague’s prejudiced attitude. “Mateo isn’t a street child; he’s a child who lost his mother and has unique knowledge that’s helping my daughter.”

If that bothers you, that’s your problem, not ours. The argument escalated, and Dr. Alejandro threatened to take the case to the hospital’s administration. Eduardo knew he would face resistance, but he didn’t imagine it would come from his own colleagues. That night at home, Mateo noticed Eduardo was worried. “Doctor, if I’m causing problems, I can stop helping Valeria.” “Mateo, you’re not causing any problems. Some people have difficulty accepting different things, but that doesn’t mean you should give up.”

My mom always said that when we do good, we encounter resistance from those who don’t understand, but the important thing is to keep doing what’s right. Your mom was a wise woman. Dear listener, if you’re enjoying the story, please leave a like and, above all, subscribe to the channel. This helps those of us who are just starting out a lot. Let’s continue. The following week, the situation became more complicated. Dr. Alejandro garnered the support of other conservative doctors and filed a formal complaint with the administration, questioning the unscientific methods being used on patients at the hospital.

The director general, Dr. Roberto Gutiérrez, a serious 60-year-old man, summoned Eduardo to a meeting. “Eduardo, I understand your situation as a father, but I must consider the institution. We have protocols to follow. Dr. Roberto, you can personally verify the results. Valeria is showing progress she never had in two years of conventional treatment.” “I understand, but there’s also the legal aspect. If something happens during these sessions, who will be responsible?” “I assume full responsibility. Mateo always works under my direct supervision.”

It’s not that simple. The Medical Ethics Committee could question our methods. Eduardo left the meeting knowing that Mateo risked being excluded from Valeria’s treatment. That afternoon he spoke with Mariana about the situation. “Honey, we can’t give up now,” she said. “Valeria is improving, and Mateo has found a family. We have to fight for this. But if the hospital officially forbids it, I’ll have no choice. Then we’ll find another way. We can continue the treatment at home with private medical follow-up.”

The next morning, something unexpected happened. Mateo arrived at the hospital earlier than usual and found an elegant lady watching Valeria through the glass of the therapy room. “Excuse me,” Mateo said politely. “Are you looking for someone?” The lady turned around, and Mateo saw a woman of about 70 with neatly styled white hair and fine clothes. “You must be Mateo,” she said, smiling. “I’m Doña Guadalupe, Valeria’s grandmother. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Mateo was surprised.

Eduardo had never mentioned the girl’s grandmother. “Are you Dr. Eduardo’s mother?” “No, dear. I’m Mariana’s mother, Eduardo’s first wife. I come to visit Valeria every week, but this time I wanted to come early to meet you.” Mateo was confused. Mariana was Eduardo’s wife, but Doña Guadalupe was talking about a first wife. “Excuse me, ma’am, but I don’t understand.” Doña Guadalupe noticed the boy’s confusion. “Oh, Eduardo didn’t tell you about Sofía, did he?”

She is Valeria’s biological mother. They separated when they discovered the girl had developmental problems. Mateo’s world seemed to crumble. He had grown so attached to Eduardo’s family. He felt loved and welcomed, but now he was discovering there were important secrets he didn’t know. Where is Valeria’s mother? Sofía lives in Guadalajara now. She had difficulty accepting her daughter’s condition and chose to distance herself. Eduardo obtained full custody of Valeria. Mateo silently absorbed this information.

Suddenly, many things made sense. The empty room in Eduardo’s house, his extreme devotion to his daughter, the loving yet melancholic way Mariana treated Valeria. “Mateo,” Doña Guadalupe continued, “I want you to know how grateful I am for what you’re doing for my granddaughter. I’ve been following her progress, and I know it’s a result of your work. I just want to help her walk, Doña Guadalupe. And you’re succeeding, my dear, more than succeeding.” At that moment, Eduardo arrived at the hospital and was surprised to see his mother-in-law talking with Mateo.

Guadalupe, I didn’t know you were coming today. I came to meet this special boy who’s helping our Valeria. Eduardo noticed Mateo’s thoughtful expression and realized that Grandma had told him about Sofía. Mateo, can we talk? The two moved away to a more private corner. You heard about Sofía, right? Mateo nodded. Why didn’t you tell me? Eduardo sighed. Because it’s a painful part of our lives. Sofía couldn’t accept that Valeria was born with disabilities.

She saw the baby as a failure, an embarrassment. When Valeria turned six months old and the doctors confirmed she would have developmental problems, Sofía simply said she couldn’t deal with it and left. It must have been very difficult. It was. But then I met Mariana, who loves Valeria as if she were her own daughter. And now you’ve come into our lives. Maybe Sofía left because you two needed to come into our lives. Mateo smiled for the first time that morning.

I like Mariana; she’s affectionate with me and loves you like a son, Mateo. We both love you. The conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Dr. Alejandro, accompanied by Dr. Roberto. “Eduardo, I need to talk to you now,” said Dr. Alejandro. “Mateo, go start the session with Valeria. I’ll take care of this,” said Eduardo. Mateo entered the room where Valeria was waiting for him. The little girl always became restless and happy when she saw him. That day she seemed especially receptive.

“Hello, princess,” Mateo said, approaching the chair. “Today we’ll try something new.” He began his usual routine of massages and songs, but this time he positioned Valeria differently, sitting her on the edge of a low massage table with her feet touching the floor. “Let’s try to feel the floor, Valeria. We’ll pretend we’re stepping on the sand at the beach.” Mateo took the little girl’s hands and began making up-and-down movements as if she were jumping. To his surprise, Valeria began to push off with her little legs, as if she were really trying to jump.

Very good, princess. You’re doing great. Outside, Guadalupe watched through the window, moved by the scene. It was the first time she’d seen Valeria attempting voluntary leg movements. Meanwhile, in the hallway, the discussion among the doctors intensified. “Eduardo, I received a formal complaint about unscientific methods being used in the hospital,” said Dr. Roberto. “Unfortunately, I’ll have to suspend the sessions until we can fully assess the situation.” “Dr. Roberto, please take a look at what’s happening in the physical therapy room before making any decisions.”

The three doctors went to the window of the room and remained silent as they watched Mateo work with Valeria. The little girl was clearly trying to respond to the stimuli, moving her legs as she never had before. “This is extraordinary,” murmured Dr. Roberto. “These are unproven techniques being applied by an unqualified child,” insisted Dr. Alejandro. “Alejandro,” Guadalupe said, approaching the group, “with all due respect, but what you consider unproven is knowledge to which my granddaughter has never had access.”

In two years of conventional treatment, she never showed these reactions. You don’t understand the risks involved. I understand them perfectly. I understand that you’re afraid to admit that a 4-year-old child achieved results that licensed doctors couldn’t. The tension was palpable when a nurse came running down the hall. “Dr. Eduardo, Dr. Eduardo, come quickly and see Valeria!” Everyone rushed to the therapy room. When they arrived, they saw something that would be forever etched in their memories. Valeria was standing, leaning against the examination table, with Mateo holding her hands.

The little girl’s legs trembled with the effort, but she was supporting her own weight. “Daddy,” Valeria babbled, looking at Eduardo. It was the first clear word she had ever spoken. Eduardo knelt down and held out his arms. “Come to your daddy, princess.” Mateo, still holding Valeria’s hands, began to slowly guide her toward her father. They were only three hesitant steps, but they were the first steps Valeria had taken in her almost three years of life. Dr. Alejandro was speechless.

Dr. Roberto had tears in his eyes. Guadalupe was crying openly. “Now tell me,” Eduardo said, hugging Valeria, “that this isn’t scientific.” That afternoon, the news spread throughout the hospital. Nurses, doctors, and staff arrived at the therapy room to meet Mateo and Valeria. The little girl, motivated by all the attention, repeated the steps several times. Dr. Roberto called an emergency meeting with the entire medical team. “Colleagues,” he said, “today we witnessed something extraordinary. Regardless of our opinions on conventional methods, we cannot ignore concrete results.”

“But how are we going to explain this scientifically?” a neurologist asked. “We’ll document everything,” Dr. Roberto replied. “We’ll turn this case into an official study. Mateo will be monitored by a multidisciplinary team, but he’ll continue applying his techniques.” Dr. Alejandro tried to protest, but his vote was in the minority. Most of the doctors had become convinced that there was something special about Mateo’s work. In the following weeks, Mateo became a minor celebrity at the hospital. Journalists wanted to interview him, but Eduardo protected his privacy, allowing only doctors and researchers to observe him.

Dr. Wong, the Chinese specialist who had trained Mateo’s mother, was contacted and agreed to come to Mexico to observe the boy’s work. When he arrived two weeks later, he was impressed. “This child has a natural intuition for neurorehabilitation,” he said after observing several sessions. He applies the techniques instinctively, adapting to the child’s specific needs. But how is that possible? Eduardo asked. Sometimes knowledge is passed from person to person in ways we can’t fully explain.

His mother must have been an exceptional student, and he absorbed not only the techniques but the very essence of the treatment. Dr. Wong worked with Mateo for a week, refining his techniques and teaching him new exercises. The boy showed a surprising capacity for learning and adapting to the teachings. Valeria continued to progress. She could now stand on her own for a few seconds and took more confident steps with support. But most importantly, she underwent an emotional transformation. She smiled constantly, babbled words, and showed interest in everything around her.

At home, Mateo was settling into his new life. Mariana had enrolled him in a nearby private school where he quickly stood out for his intelligence and kindness. The teachers were impressed by his maturity. “Mateo is a special child,” the teacher told Mariana. “He has a natural empathy and is always helping his classmates. It’s as if he was born to care for others.” But not everything was peaceful in the boy’s life. Sometimes, especially at night, he would wake up crying, calling for his mother.

Mariana would always comfort him by talking about Carmen and keeping her memory alive. “Mateo, your mom must be so proud of you,” Mariana would say, stroking the boy’s hair. “She taught you to be kind and generous, and now you’re using those gifts to help others.” “I miss my mom, Aunt Mariana.” “I know, my love. It’s normal to miss her, but remember that her love is here inside your heart and will never leave.” Dear listener, if you’re enjoying the story, don’t forget to like it and, above all, subscribe to the channel.

That helps those of us who are just starting out a lot. Now let’s continue. Two months after Valeria’s first steps, something unexpected happened. Sofía, the girl’s biological mother, appeared at the hospital. Eduardo was accompanying Mateo during a session with Valeria when the receptionist called him. “Dr. Eduardo, there’s a woman at reception who says she’s Valeria’s mother.” Eduardo’s heart raced. He hadn’t spoken to Sofía in over a year. “Mateo, keep up with the exercises.”

I’ll be right back. At reception, Eduardo found Sofía exactly as he remembered her: tall, dark-haired, elegant, but with a cold expression that always bothered him. “Hi, Eduardo. Sofía, what are you doing here?” “My parents told me Valeria is walking. I came to see if it was true.” “And why are you interested now? Two years ago you said you didn’t want anything to do with her.” “People change, Eduardo. Maybe I jumped the gun.” Eduardo felt anger and distrust. “Sofía, you can’t just show up like this after two years and want to be a part of Valeria’s life.”

Legally, I am her mother. I have rights. The conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Valeria and Mateo. The little girl walked slowly, leaning on the boy, but she was walking. Upon seeing her father, she let go of Mateo’s hand and took a few steps toward him on her own. “Dad,” she said, hugging Eduardo’s legs. Sofía was stunned, not only by seeing her daughter walk, but by the affection with which she treated Eduardo. In her eyes shone a mixture of surprise, admiration, and something that seemed like regret.

“Valeria,” Sofia called softly. The little girl looked at her without recognizing her. To Valeria, she was a stranger. “This is my friend Sofia,” Eduardo said, not wanting to confuse the girl. “Hi,” Valeria said shyly, hiding behind Mateo. Sofia noticed the closeness between her daughter and the boy. “And who are you?” she asked Mateo. “I’m Mateo. I’m Valeria’s friend, and I help her walk.” “You help her walk? How?” Mateo briefly explained his techniques, and Sofia listened with growing amazement.

That boy looked about four years old, but he spoke with the seriousness and knowledge of an adult. “Eduardo, can we talk privately?” Sofia asked. “Mateo, you can take Valeria to continue with her exercises. I’ll catch up with you in a little while.” When the children had walked away, Sofia turned to Eduardo. “I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Two years ago, the doctors said he would never walk. The doctors said it was unlikely, not impossible, but you didn’t want to wait to see it, Eduardo.” “I know I was wrong.”

I was scared. I was depressed. I couldn’t accept that our daughter was different. Valeria isn’t different, Sofía. She’s special. And if you had stayed, you would have known. What can I do now to make amends? Eduardo was silent for a moment. I don’t know if there’s any way to undo what you did. Valeria doesn’t remember you. For her, Mariana is her mother. But I’m her biological mother. I have rights. Rights are earned through presence, care, and love. You gave them up when you left.

The conversation grew tense when Mariana arrived at the hospital. She had picked up Mateo from school and was coming straight here. Upon seeing Sofía, she stopped, surprised. “Sofía. Mariana, I heard you married Eduardo.” “Yes, we got married a year ago. And what are you doing here?” “I came to see my daughter.” Valeria felt a lump in her throat. Mariana was like a daughter to her, and the thought of losing her was terrifying. “Your daughter,” Valeria repeated, trying to remain calm.

Mariana isn’t an object you can pick up and put down whenever you want. Valeria, please, let’s not fight, Eduardo intervened. Let’s talk civilly. At that moment, Mateo came running up. Uncle Eduardo! Mariana managed to walk alone to the window. Mateo, where is she? She’s with Aunt Guadalupe in the living room. Grandma came to visit. Sofia was irritated to hear Mateo call Eduardo “uncle” and refer to Guadalupe as “grandma.” Eduardo, who exactly is this boy and why is he treating you like family?

Mateo lives with us. We adopted him. They adopted a child without consulting me. Sofia, you have no right to have an opinion about our decisions. You gave up that right. The discussion was interrupted by the arrival of Guadalupe with Mariana. The grandmother immediately noticed the tension in the air. Sofia, what a surprise. Hello, Guadalupe. I came to see how Mariana is doing. Guadalupe looked at Eduardo and Valeria, understanding the delicate situation. Mariana, my love, come play in the garden with Grandma, Guadalupe said, realizing it was best to get the little girl out of that tense environment.

“I want to stay with Mateo,” Mariana said. “Mateo can come too. How about you two go play while the adults talk?” When the children left, Sofia turned to the others. “I want to spend time with Mariana. She’s my daughter, and I have a right to know her.” “Sofia,” Valeria said gently. “I understand your feelings, but you have to think about what’s best for Mariana. She doesn’t know you. A sudden change could affect her progress.” “What progress? You talk as if she’s cured.” “No, she’s not cured,” Eduardo replied.

Mariana still has limitations and always will, but she has learned to manage them, to overcome them, and that happened because she was surrounded by love and patience. And because of Mateo, Valeria added, that child changed the lives of our entire family. Sofia spent the rest of the afternoon watching Mariana and Mateo interact. She saw how her daughter trusted the boy, how she smiled when he sang, how she tried hard to walk because she wanted to please Mateo. At the end of the day, Sofia asked to speak with Mateo alone.

Mateo, can I ask you a question? Of course, Mrs. Sofia. Why do you help Mariana? What do you get out of it? Mateo thought for a moment. I don’t get anything out of it. I just like helping her because when she smiles she reminds me of my little sister, and when she manages to walk I feel like my mom is proud of me. Your mom. My mom passed away a few months ago. She always told me to help others whenever I could. Helping Mariana is a way of continuing to do what she taught me. Sofia felt her heart clench.