Mercedes searched her hazy memory. Don Esteban… an old man she cared for when she worked in the Del Valle neighborhood. A lonely, bitter man whom no one wanted to look after, but she was patient with him, cooked him chicken soup, and read him the newspaper until his wife died. “Yes… but he died, didn’t he?” “He died recently.” And she remembered the only person who treated him like a human being.
Jesus stood up and helped Mercedes to her feet. Incredibly, her knees no longer hurt. The cold was gone. She felt strong, alive. “Go to Our Lady of Mount Carmel Parish, three blocks from here. Father Tomás is waiting for you at the door, though he doesn’t know why he went out in the rain. He’ll give you shelter tonight.” “Lord… don’t leave me…” Mercedes pleaded, clinging to his hand.
Jesus gently touched her forehead. “I am with you every day, until the end of the world. And prepare yourself, Mercedes, because when your son-in-law falls and your daughter seeks you out… you will have to make the most difficult decision of your life: to forgive.” “It’s very difficult, Lord… it hurts so much.” “I know. But forgiveness sets you free, not them. Trust in me.”
Jesus started walking toward the mist of the rain. Mercedes blinked for a second to wipe away her tears, and when she opened her eyes again, he was gone. The bench was dry. The rain had stopped, and a ray of sunlight pierced the dark clouds, pointing directly at the tower of the nearby church.
