“I’m going to put mud on your face,” the boy said. Seconds later, a miracle happened. Diego Ramírez never imagined that a Sunday in the park would change his life forever. Two years ago, since the accident that left his son blind, he had grown accustomed to the pitying looks and whispers of people as they passed by in their wheelchair.

It was then that a dirty, barefoot boy ran up without any hesitation or fear to the well-dressed man pushing the chair. “I’m going to put mud in your face,” the boy said, looking directly at Mateo, the 8-year-old boy sitting in the chair with his pale eyes staring into space. Diego felt his blood run cold.
Who was that kid? How dare he approach his son like that? Instinctively, he placed his hand on Mateo’s shoulder as if to protect him. “What did you say?” Diego asked, his voice tense and controlled. The boy didn’t look away. His dark eyes held a determination that seemed much greater than his apparent age, perhaps 10 or 11 years old.My grandmother always said that earth heals. She healed people who couldn’t see well. The boy pointed at Mateo. He needs the special mud. I know where to find it. Diego looked around. The park was busy for a Sunday afternoon, but no one seemed to be paying attention to the strange conversation that was taking place.

Families strolled along the paths, children played on the playground equipment, and couples sat on the benches, all normal, except for that surreal moment. “Hey, kid, I don’t know who you are, but Dad,” Mateo interrupted, turning his head toward the boy’s voice. It was the first time in months that Diego had seen his son show interest in anything.

Who is he? The boy crouched down next to the chair, reaching Mateo’s eye level. My name is Samuel. Your grandmother is still alive. Samuel shook his head. His eyes saddened for a moment. She passed away last month, but before she left, she taught me many things. About plants, about the healing earth, about how to help people who are suffering.

Diego felt a tightness in his chest. The way the boy spoke had a sincerity impossible to ignore, but at the same time, it all seemed too absurd to take seriously. “Samuel, right? Look, I understand you want to help, but my son has a serious problem. He lost his sight two years ago, and the best doctors in the country have already tried everything.”

It’s not child’s play that’s going to solve this. Samuel stood up, but continued to look at Mateo with special attention. “Did the doctors say it’s incurable?” he asked in a soft but firm voice. Diego hesitated. Actually, the doctors were never able to explain exactly what had happened. After the car accident, Mateo had been in a coma for a week.

When he woke up, he couldn’t see, but all the tests showed there was no physical damage to his eyes or brain. It was as if his vision had simply been switched off. “It’s complicated,” Diego replied, not wanting to go into details with a stranger. “Dad, I want to try,” Mateo said suddenly, making Diego turn to look at him in surprise.

Mateo, son, you don’t even really know what we’re talking about. I know I haven’t been able to see anything for a long time, and I know it makes you sad, even though you try to hide it. Mateo reached out to Samuel. “Can I touch your face?” Samuel immediately came closer and let Mateo touch his face with his small hands.

Diego watched the scene with a mixture of concern and curiosity. It was rare to see Mateo interacting with other children. Since the accident, he had become very withdrawn. “Your hands are dirty with dirt,” Mateo commented, a small smile appearing on his face for the first time in weeks. It was because he had been finishing near the stream.

There’s a special kind of mud there. My grandmother used to say that this soil has healing powers because it’s near the water that springs from the mountain. Samuel spoke with the ease of someone who had grown up hearing those stories. Diego shook his head. This was getting ridiculous. He was a successful businessman, an engineering graduate, who had built a company from the ground up.

I couldn’t be there listening to stories about magic mud. Okay, that’s enough. Samuel, it was a pleasure meeting you, but we have to go now. Dad, wait. Mateo grabbed his father’s arm tighter than usual. Please, just this once. What could possibly go wrong? Diego looked at his son. Mateo rarely asked for anything. Since the accident, he had become an overly obedient child, as if he had lost his will of his own along with his sight.

Seeing a glimmer of determination return was both comforting and worrying. “Mateo, son, I understand you want to try anything, but this is pointless. Mud doesn’t cure blindness. My grandmother cured three people that way,” Samuel insisted. “One of them was a girl who had lost her sight after a terrible fright.”

The doctors couldn’t explain it either, but after a few sessions with the special mud, she regained her sight. Diego was about to reply when he heard a familiar voice behind him. “Diego, what’s going on here?” He turned around and saw Carolina, his wife, approaching with two shopping bags in her hands.

She had gone out to do some shopping while he took Mateo to the park, as they did every Sunday. “Hi, love. This is Samuel. I was talking to Mateo.” Carolina looked the boy up and down, noticing his dirty clothes and bare feet. Her expression changed immediately. “Talking about what?” Samuel, sensing the tension in the air, took a step back. “I just wanted to help.”

I know I can help him see again. Carolina let out a humorless laugh. Oh, yes. And how exactly do you plan to do that? With the special mountain mud, my grandmother taught me. Your grandmother. Carolina looked at Diego with an expression that clearly said what she thought about it. Diego, please tell me you’re not taking this seriously. Of course not.

“I just want to try, Mom,” Mateo interrupted. Carolina knelt beside her son’s chair, her voice softening. “Mateo, my love, I know you want to get better. We all do, but that’s not how it works. You have to trust the doctors, not stories.” She looked at Samuel again. “But Mom, what if it’s true? What if it works?” Carolina sighed and stood up, looking at Diego.

We’re going home now. Diego felt torn. Part of him completely agreed with Carolina. It was absurd and had no scientific basis whatsoever. But another part, a part he tried to ignore, wondered, “What if Samuel Diego spoke to the boy? Where exactly do you live?” “On San Antonio Street, near the market.”

But sometimes I stay at the shelter when there’s no room at my aunt’s house. Diego nodded. He knew the area. It was one of the poorest parts of the city. “And that’s your grandmother? She really healed people, Diego,” Carolina chided him. “Yes, sir. Everyone in the neighborhood knew Doña Esperanza. She never charged anything.”

She said her gift was helping others. And she taught you how to do it. Samuel nodded enthusiastically. She said I had the right hands for it, that I could feel where the pain was stored. Diego looked at Mateo, who was listening silently, but with his full attention. It was the first time in months that he had seen his son so interested in something.

Carolina, maybe we could. No, don’t even think about it. Carolina’s voice was firm. We’re going home, and I’m not going to discuss this in public. She started to push Mateo’s chair, but he grabbed the wheels, preventing it from moving. Dad, please, just this once. If it doesn’t work, I promise I’ll never ask again.

Diego looked at his son, then at Samuel, then at Carolina. The tension in the air was almost palpable. “Samuel,” Diego finally said, “where exactly is that place where you get the clay?” Diego protested Carolina again. “It’s just a question, Carolina.” Samuel pointed in the direction of the mountains surrounding the town.

There’s a path that leads down to the stream. It’s about a 20-minute walk from here. My grandmother always went there early in the morning when the sun came up. And you go alone? Yes, I go. Since my grandmother passed away, I’ve been taking care of some people in the neighborhood. Nothing too serious, just backaches and things like that, but I’ve never tried to help someone who’s blind.

Diego made a decision that surprised even himself. Okay. How about you come to our house tomorrow? We can talk about this properly, without rushing. Diego, have you lost your mind? Carolina whispered, but loud enough for everyone to hear. Carolina, our house has a big garden. If he wants to try something, at least he’ll be in a controlled environment.

And if it doesn’t work, Mateo will see that we tried. Samuel smiled for the first time since the conversation had begun. “I really would like to do it. We’ll talk tomorrow. Do you know where Acacia Street is?” Samuel shook his head. “It’s in the Lomas de las Flores neighborhood, house number 247, a big house with a black gate.”

I’ll find her. Then we’ll meet tomorrow at 2 p.m. Mateo smiled in a way Diego hadn’t seen in months. Carolina, on the other hand, was visibly irritated. Goodbye, Mateo, Samuel said, lightly touching the boy’s shoulder. See you tomorrow. Goodbye, Samuel. Thank you. As they walked away, Diego could feel the weight of Carolina’s silence.

She was pushing the chair harder than necessary. “Diego, I hope you know what you’re doing,” she finally said when they reached the car. “I hope so too,” Diego murmured, helping Mateo into the vehicle. On the way home, Mateo was more lively than he had been in months. He asked questions about the park, about the people there, about the sounds he had heard.

It was as if something had awakened within him. Carolina, on the other hand, remained silent throughout the entire drive. Diego knew he was in for a difficult conversation. When they arrived home, a two-story mansion in the city’s most exclusive neighborhood, Diego helped Mateo out of the car while Carolina went straight inside, leaving the shopping bags in the foyer.

“Dad,” Mateo said as Diego helped him with his seatbelt. “Do you really think Samuel can help me?” Diego stopped what he was doing. It was a difficult question to answer. “Son, I don’t know. I honestly don’t know. But what I do know is that you seem happier today than you have been in a long time.”

And that means something to me. I liked him. He talks differently than the others. How so? He doesn’t feel sorry for me. He talks to me like I’m normal. Diego felt a lump in his throat. Sometimes he forgot how perceptive Mateo was, even without seeing. You’re normal, Mateo. You’re my son, and you’re perfect just the way you are. I know, Dad, but it would be nice if I could see your face again.

That night Diego barely slept. He lay wondering if he was doing the right thing. From a rational point of view, it was absurd. But from an emotional point of view, seeing Mateo show hope again was priceless. Carolina was lying on the other side of the bed, obviously awake too, but pretending to be asleep.

Diego knew she was furious with him. Around 2 a.m., he got up and went to Mateo’s room. The boy was sleeping peacefully with a small smile on his face. It had been a long time since Diego had seen him so serene. The next morning, Diego woke up before everyone else and went down to the kitchen. He found Carolina already awake, quietly drinking coffee.

“Good morning,” she said, trying to sound natural. “Good morning.” The silence stretched for a few minutes while Diego made his coffee. Finally, Carolina spoke. “Diego, we need to talk about yesterday. I knew it. Do you really think you’ll let that boy do whatever he wants to our son?” Diego turned to look at her. “Carolina, what exactly are you afraid of? That he’ll hurt Mateo, that he’ll improve the situation? Or that he’ll show us that maybe we gave up too soon? I’m afraid you’ll give Mateo false hope. He’s already suffered too much. And…”

Don’t you think he has the right to choose? He’s asking for a chance. He’s a child. Children don’t know what’s good for them. Diego sighed. This conversation was taking a turn he wanted to avoid. Caro, I’m not saying I believe in miracles. I’m saying that for the first time in two years, our son has shown interest in something.

That means nothing to you. Carolina was silent for a moment. Diego, I just can’t stand seeing him suffer anymore, and I’m afraid all this will only bring more suffering. Diego approached and took her hands. I understand, but what if we don’t try, and Mateo spends the rest of his life wondering, ‘What if I couldn’t live with that?’

Before Carolina could answer, they heard Mateo calling from upstairs. “Dad, Mom, Samuel’s here.” Diego looked at the clock. It was only 9:00 a.m. “Not yet, son. He’ll be here at 2:00. Can I have breakfast downstairs with you?” “Sure.” As Diego went upstairs to get Mateo, Carolina stayed in the kitchen, clearly struggling with her own feelings about the situation.

The rest of the morning passed slowly. Mateo was anxious and asked several questions about Samuel and what the meeting would be like. Diego tried to keep expectations low, explaining that maybe nothing would happen, that it was important not to get their hopes up too much. Dear listener, if you’re enjoying the story, please leave a like and, above all, subscribe to the channel.

That helps those of us who are just starting out a lot. Moving on. At 2 o’clock, the doorbell rang. Diego went to answer it and found Samuel standing on the other side of the gate. The boy had made an effort to clean himself. His clothes were still simple and patched, but relatively clean. He was carrying a small cloth bag.

Hello, Mr. Diego. I’m right on time. Yes, Samuel. Come in. Samuel looked around as they walked through the entrance of the house. It was obvious he had never been in a place like this before. His wide eyes took in every detail of the well-kept garden and the imposing facade of the house. “Wow, it’s very big,” he commented without malice.

“This has been our home for 10 years,” Diego explained, trying not to sound pretentious. When they entered the living room, Mateo was already waiting, sitting on the sofa with Carolina beside him. The tension in the air was almost palpable. “Hi, Mateo,” Samuel greeted enthusiastically. “Hi, Samuel. I’ve been waiting for you since early this morning.”

Samuel approached and, without asking permission, sat on the floor next to the sofa, at Mateo’s eye level. “How did you sleep? Did you have good dreams?” “Yes. I dreamt I was running on a beach. It’s been a long time since I dreamt I could see.” Samuel nodded as if he understood perfectly. My grandmother always said that dreams revealed what the heart most desired and that sometimes they also revealed what was possible.

“Samuel,” Carolina interjected, her voice polite but cold. “First of all, we’d like to know a little more about you. Where are your parents?” Samuel lowered his head. “My mom left when I was a baby. My dad had to leave when I was five. Since then, I’ve lived with my grandmother, and now, sometimes I stay at my Aunt Rosa’s house, but she has a lot of children.”
When there’s no room, I stay at the San José shelter. Diego and Carolina exchanged a glance. Samuel’s situation was more complicated than they had imagined. “And what about that technique of your grandmother’s?” Diego asked. Samuel opened the cloth bag and took out a small glass jar with something that looked like ordinary mud. “This is the special soil.”My grandmother used to say that it absorbs the pain and sadness that get trapped in the body, especially when a person has lost something important and can’t accept it. “How is that?” Mateo asked. “Sometimes when something really bad happens, a person gets so scared that a part of them hides deep inside, like a little animal that curls up into a ball when it’s afraid.”

Carolina listened attentively, despite the obvious skepticism in her expression. “And how exactly would you apply that to Mateo?” she asked. Samuel looked at Mateo. “Can I touch your face again?” Mateo nodded. Samuel gently touched the boy’s face with his clean hands. The dirt gets in and around his eyes. He stayed there for about 15 minutes.

During that time, I tell stories my grandmother used to tell, stories about brave people who found things they thought they had lost forever. “And how does that work?” Diego asked, genuinely curious. “My grandmother said that the earth brings out the bad things, and the stories remind a person who they really are inside.”

Carolina shook her head. “Look, Samuel, I know you want to help, but this seems more like alternative therapy. There’s nothing scientific about it.” “What is scientific?” Samuel asked sincerely. “It’s when doctors can prove that something works with tests, with studies.” Samuel thought for a moment.

My grandmother used to say that not everything that works can be tested by doctors, that the heart has its own rules. Mateo, who had been listening silently, finally spoke. “Mom, Dad, I want to try it, please.” Diego looked at Carolina, who was clearly struggling with herself. “Caro,” she sighed deeply. “Okay, but if I see any sign that Mateo is uncomfortable or if anything goes wrong, we stop immediately.”

Samuel smiled. “Sure, we’ll stop right away if Mateo doesn’t like it.” “And where are you going to do this?” Carolina asked. Diego thought for a moment. “How about the garden? There’s a covered area near the pool. Plenty of space and fresh air. Perfect.” Samuel stood up. “Um, can I see the place first?” Diego led Samuel to the garden while Carolina helped Mateo.

The pool area had a deck with comfortable sofas and a lovely view of the rest of the garden. “It’s perfect here,” Samuel said, looking around. “Having water nearby improves your energy, just like my grandmother used to say.” When Mateo arrived, Samuel helped him sit comfortably in one of the lounge chairs. Diego and Carolina stayed nearby, watching their every move.

Mateo, I’m going to put the mud on your face now. It might be a little cold at first, but it will warm up. That’s okay. Samuel dipped his fingers into the small jar of mud and began to gently apply it around Mateo’s eyes. The boy lay still, just breathing calmly. “How do you feel?” Samuel asked.

“Yes, it’s cold, but it’s nice. It’s like being on a mud beach.” Samuel smiled and continued applying the mud with gentle circular motions. “Now I’m going to tell a story my grandmother used to tell. It’s about a boy who lost his colors.” Diego and Carolina settled into nearby chairs, watching the scene with a mixture of skepticism and hope.

Once upon a time, there was a boy who lived in a city where everything was very colorful. The houses were yellow, blue, and red. The flowers were every color in the world. But one day, something very frightening happened to the boy. Mateo was listening attentively, completely relaxed. “What happened?” he asked.

A very strong gust of wind swept through the city. The boy was so frightened that he hid under the bed and closed his eyes tightly. When it was all over and he came out of his hiding place, he couldn’t see any colors anymore. Everything was gray to him. Oh dear. And what did he do? At first, he was very sad. He thought he would never see colors again.

But then a wise old woman from the town taught him a secret. Samuel paused for a moment to check the mud on Mateo’s face. What secret? She told him that the colors hadn’t disappeared. They were hidden inside him, waiting for him to be brave enough to look for them again.

Diego noticed that Mateo was completely absorbed in the story. His features were relaxed in a way he hadn’t seen in a long time. And how did he find the colors? The old woman gave him a special kind of earth, just like this one you have on your face now, and taught him that sometimes you need to remember that you are brave, that you are strong, that you deserve to see beautiful things.

Samuel continued the story for another 10 minutes, talking about how the boy in the story rediscovered the colors one by one, starting with the colors of his own heart. When he finished, he washed his hands in the small decorative fountain in the garden and went back to Mateo.

How are you feeling now? I feel fine. A little sleepy, but fine. Samuel gently removed the mud from Mateo’s face with a damp towel that Carolina had brought. “Open your eyes slowly,” Samuel said softly. Mateo opened his eyes. For a moment, no one said anything. He blinked several times. He moved his head slightly.

“Mateo,” Diego asked, his heart pounding. “Me?” Mateo hesitated. “I don’t know, I think I see some shadows, or maybe it’s just my imagination.” Samuel nodded, as if that were exactly what he expected. “Shadows are the beginning. It means that the part of you that hid itself away is starting to peek out again.”

Diego and Carolina exchanged glances. It was difficult to tell if Mateo was truly seeing something or if it was just his own psychological manipulation. “Samuel,” Carolina said, “what else did your grandmother say about this process?” “That several sessions were usually needed, that each person was different, but that the important thing was not to give up and that the person being healed needed to genuinely want to improve.”

“I want to,” Mateo said immediately. “I can try again tomorrow.” Diego looked at Carolina, who still seemed unsure. “Samuel, can you come back tomorrow?” Diego asked. “Yes, I can, but I can sleep here. It’s just that sometimes it’s difficult to get here from where I live.” Carolina opened her mouth to answer, but Diego spoke first.

We have a guest room. You can stay there while you’re helping Mateo. Diego whispered to Carolina, but he pretended not to hear. Really? Samuel asked, his eyes shining. Really, let’s give it a go. That night, after Samuel went to sleep in the guest room and Mateo was in bed, Diego and Carolina had the conversation they both knew they needed to have.

Diego, what exactly are we doing? We’re giving our son a chance. Giving him a chance for what? To believe in magic. Diego sat on the bed next to her. Kari, did you see how Mateo was? He was happy today, genuinely happy. When was the last time you saw him like that? I know, but no buts, Carolina.

Our son spent two years depressed, with no interest in anything. Today, Rio asked questions, participated in something. If that’s just because of a mud-based story, then so be it. Carolina remained silent for a long moment. And what if it doesn’t work? And what if in the end he feels even more disappointed, then we’ll face it together as we always have.

And that boy, Samuel, are you really going to let him live here? Diego sighed. Kari, you saw his situation. He’s practically an orphan, and if he can really help Mateo, it wouldn’t be the least we could do. You’re getting very emotional about this whole situation. Maybe, but I’m also being a father.

And sometimes being a father means doing things that don’t make sense in theory, but do in your heart. The next morning, Diego woke up early and went down to the kitchen. He found Samuel already awake, sitting at the table in the service area, looking out the window. “Good morning, Samuel. Did you sleep well?” “Yes, Don Diego. It’s been a long time since I slept in such a soft bed.”

Diego made coffee for both of them. “Samuel, can I ask you something? Are you sure about what you’re doing? I mean, you’re very young to have so much responsibility.” Samuel took a sip of coffee and thought before answering. “My grandmother always said that age doesn’t matter when you have a gift, that some people are born knowing things even as children.”

And do you think you have that gift? I feel things. When I touch people, I feel where their sadness is hidden. With Mateo, I felt that his sadness was in his eyes, but it wasn’t a sadness of the eyes, it was a sadness of the heart that rose to his eyes. Diego sipped his coffee slowly, trying to process that. What exactly do you mean? Sometimes, when something really bad happens, a person gets so scared that a part of them decides to shut down as if it were a way of protecting themselves.

“And you think that’s what happened to Mateo?” Samuel nodded. “I think he saw something in the accident that really scared him, and the part of him that can see decided to hide so he wouldn’t have to see bad things again.” Diego felt a chill. Samuel was describing something no doctor had even considered, but it made a strange sense.

And how do you know that? My grandmother taught me to feel. She said that all illnesses tell a story, and that if you know how to listen to the story, you can help the person change the ending. At that moment, Mateo appeared in the kitchen with Carolina. “Good morning,” Mateo said, clearly animated. “Samuel, are you still here?” “Hi, Mateo, how did you sleep?” “Fine, and I had strange dreams.”

“I dreamt I was in a dark place, but there was a small light in the distance, and I was trying to reach it.” Samuel smiled. “That’s very good. It means the part of you that was hiding is starting to want to come out.” Carolina watched the interaction attentively. Diego noticed that she was less resistant than the day before.

After breakfast, Samuel and Mateo went back to the garden. This time, Carolina sat closer, observing every detail of the process. Samuel applied the mud with the same care as the day before, but this time he began a different story. “Today I’m going to tell you about a girl who lost her voice.”

“How so?” Mateo asked. She could speak normally, but one day something happened that frightened her terribly, and after that, even if she wanted to speak, the words wouldn’t come out. Samuel continued applying the mud in gentle circular motions around Mateo’s eyes. Everyone tried to help her; they took her to the best doctors, ran tests, tried medicines, but nothing worked because the problem wasn’t in her throat; it was the fear she felt.

And how did she get better? An old healer told her family that first they had to figure out exactly what the girl had seen that had frightened her so much, and then they had to help her understand that she was safe now. Carolina listened with growing attention. There was something about the way Samuel told the stories that seemed directed not only at Mateo, but at all of them.

How did they find out? With patience and a lot of love, they let the little girl know that whatever she had seen, they still loved her just the same, that nothing could change that. Mateo was completely relaxed. His breathing was deep and calm. The little girl recovered. Yes, but it wasn’t quick. It took weeks of conversations and care.

And do you know what the first thing he said was when he could speak again? What? Thank you. When Samuel finished the story and wiped the mud off Mateo’s face, something different happened. Mateo opened his eyes and lay still for a moment. Then, slowly, he turned his head toward Diego. “Dad,” he said uncertainly. “I think I see a person there.”

Is that you? Diego felt his heart stop. Mateo, what exactly are you seeing? It’s like a shadow shaped like a person, but it’s still dark. Carolina stood up from her chair. Mateo, are you sure? I think so, Samuel. That’s normal. Samuel nodded. It’s perfectly normal. You’re seeing with the eyes of your heart now.

Soon the eyes of the face would begin to follow them. Diego and Carolina looked at each other. Whatever was happening, it was undeniable that Mateo was different. “Samuel,” Carolina said, “can I talk to you privately later?” “Of course, Mrs. Carolina.” The rest of the day passed with Mateo, lively, asking questions about the things around him, trying to identify objects and people by the shadows he was seeing.

It was as if a switch had been flipped inside him. That afternoon, while Mateo was resting, Carolina called Samuel in for a conversation in Diego’s office. “Samuel, I need to better understand what’s going on here.” Samuel sat in the large chair facing Diego’s desk, his feet dangling off the floor.

What do you want to know, ma’am? First, how exactly did you learn what you’re doing? My grandmother took me with her when she went to care for people from a very young age. She said I had a special way of understanding where it hurt. And did she also teach you the stories? Some she taught me, others I make up, but they’re based on what she told me about how people get sick inside.

Carolina exchanged a glance with Diego. “How is it that you’re sick inside?” My grandmother used to say that sometimes the body gets sick because the soul is hurting, and that healing the soul sometimes heals the body too. Samuel leaned forward. “What exactly do you think happened to Mateo?” Samuel was silent for a moment, as if choosing his words carefully.

“Can I ask how the accident happened?” Diego and Carolina exchanged a glance. It was a subject they avoided, especially in front of Mateo. “We were coming back from a trip,” Diego began. “It had rained a lot, the road was slippery. The car rolled over. Mateo was hurt.” “No, he didn’t even lose consciousness in the accident, but he was trapped in the car for almost two hours until rescue arrived.”

And you? Diego lowered his head. I broke some ribs. Carolina hit her head and was unconscious. Mateo stood there alone, listening to her scream and seeing, seeing blood. Samuel nodded understandingly. He thought he was going to lose them. Probably, Carolina said, her voice trembling. And when they arrived at the hospital, what was the first thing Mateo asked? Diego thought for a moment, asked if we had died, and when we told him no, he said he had seen many bad things and that he never wanted to see anything bad again. Samuel nodded

New. So that was it. He asked not to see any more bad things, and his mind understood that meant not to see anything anymore. Carolina got up and went to the window. “Does this make sense to you, Diego?” she asked without turning around. “It makes more sense than anything the doctors have said.” Samuel, Carolina turned around.

If you’re right, how can we help Mateo understand that he’s safe now by continuing the sessions and, above all, talking to him about the accident, letting him talk about what he saw without worrying that you’ll get sad? But he’s never wanted to talk about it, Diego said, because he wants to protect you, just like you want to protect him.

That night, Diego decided to try something he’d never done before. He went to Mateo’s room at bedtime and sat on his bed. “Mateo, can I talk to you about something?” “Sure, Dad, it’s about the accident, remember?” Mateo tensed up. “I don’t like talking about it.” “I know, son, but maybe it’s important that we talk about it. I promise I won’t be sad no matter what you tell me.”

Mateo was silent for a long moment. “Dad, you almost died.” The question was direct and took Diego by surprise. “No, son. Nobody almost dies. But there was a lot of blood and Mom wouldn’t wake up.” “Yes, there was blood, but they were small wounds and Mom was unconscious, but she wasn’t dying.”

How do you know? Because I was aware, I knew we were hurt, but that we were going to be okay. Mateo began to cry silently. I thought you were going to leave and leave me alone. Diego felt his heart break. He took his son’s hand. Mateo, look at me. Or better yet, listen carefully to what I’m going to say.

Your mom and I will never leave you alone. Never. No matter what happens. How can you be sure? Because being your father is the most important thing in my life. There’s nothing in the world that would make me abandon you. Mateo cried for a few minutes while Diego hugged him. When he calmed down, Diego continued.

Matthew, do you think maybe you closed your eyes that day so you wouldn’t see bad things? Matthew thought for a moment. Maybe I remember being very afraid of seeing blood again or seeing you hurt. And now, do you still have that fear? A little. But Samuel said that I am brave and that brave people can look at bad things and see that there are good things too.

Samuel is right. And you know what? If you decide you want to see it again, you’re going to see a lot of beautiful things, many more beautiful things than bad things. How do you know? Because the world has far more good things than bad. Sometimes we just forget to look at them. The next day, Samuel had his third session with Mateo.

This time he told a story about a brave boy who had to cross a dark forest to save his parents. “The boy was very afraid of the forest,” Samuel said as he applied the mud, “but he knew his parents needed him.” What was in the forest that was so scary? There were animals that made strange noises.

There were very tall trees that blocked the sun. There were places where he couldn’t see where he was stepping. Samuel stopped to check the mud. But do you know what the boy discovered when he entered the forest? What? That most of the noises were birds singing, that the tall trees protected him from the strong sun, and that even though he couldn’t see where he was stepping, his feet knew the way. And he was able to save his parents.

He did manage, but the most important part wasn’t saving them; it was discovering he was much braver than he’d imagined. When Samuel removed the mud this time, Mateo opened his eyes and remained very quiet. Then, slowly, he smiled. “Dad,” he said, “Are you wearing a blue shirt?” Diego looked down. Indeed, he was wearing a light blue shirt.

“Mate!” Carolina shouted, “Can you see me?” Mateo turned his head toward her and smiled even wider. “You’re wearing a yellow dress and your hair is up.” Carolina began to cry tears of joy. Diego knelt beside Mateo’s chair. “How do you feel?” “Different. Like I’ve been asleep and I’m just waking up.”

Samuel was smiling quietly beside him. “Thank you, Samuel,” Mateo said. “Your grandmother was right. The earth really does heal.” Samuel shook his head. “It wasn’t the earth, Mateo. It was you—you who decided to be brave again. But I didn’t do anything.” “Yes, you did. You chose to trust, and you chose to stop hiding.”

That afternoon, Mateo spent hours looking around the house as if he were seeing everything for the first time. He was especially captivated by the flowers in the garden and the fish in the living room aquarium. “Everything is so much more colorful than I remembered,” he told Diego. “Or maybe you’re seeing things differently,” Diego replied.

During dinner, Samuel announced that he thought it best to return to his aunt’s house. “But why?” asked Mateo, clearly disappointed. “Because my work here is finished. You don’t need me anymore, but I like having you here.” Samuel looked at Diego and Carolina. “Can I talk to you?” he asked the adults. In the office, Samuel addressed them with a seriousness that made him seem much older than his age.

I wanted to thank you for letting me stay here and for trusting me. “We’re the ones who should be grateful, Samuel,” Carolina said. “You did something no doctor could. I only helped. Mateo did the hard work.” Diego leaned forward. “Samuel, what if you don’t want to leave?” “What do you mean? What if you want to stay here forever?” Samuel’s eyes widened.

“Would you allow it?” “We would love to,” Carolina said. “These last few days, seeing you and Mateo together, it seems like our family is complete. But I have no money, I have nothing to offer.” “Samuel,” Diego interrupted. “You restored our son’s sight. You brought joy to this house. If there’s anyone here who has something to offer, it’s you.”

Samuel began to cry silently. Did they really want to adopt me? Yes, Carolina said without hesitation. If you want to be part of our family, we’d love that. And Mateo? What does he think? Why don’t you ask him? Diego suggested. When they returned to the living room, Samuel sat next to Mateo on the sofa. Mateo, your parents asked me if I want them to adopt me. To be your real brother.

What do you think? Mateo smiled more than he had in two years. Yes, I want to, Samuel. Can you teach other children like you taught me? How so? You can use your gift to help other families who are going through what we went through. Diego and Carolina looked at each other. It was an interesting idea. Samuel, said Diego, would you like to continue helping other people? I’ve always wanted to.

It was my grandmother’s dream. She said that God gives people gifts so they can use them to help others. So, let’s do it this way, Carolina decided. You stay as our son, and we’ll set up a space here at home for you to help other children who need it. Really? Would you do that? Of course, it can be our way of repaying the good you did for us.

Dear listener, if you’re enjoying the story, please leave a like and, above all, subscribe to the channel. That really helps those of us who are just starting out. Three months later, Diego and Carolina’s house had been transformed. What was once just an elegant mansion was now also a care center for children with emotional problems that manifested through physical symptoms.

Samuel, now officially Samuel Ramirez, had become a minor celebrity in the region. Doctors and psychologists came to study his methods, though they couldn’t scientifically explain how they worked. Mateo had returned completely to normal—better than normal, actually. He had become a more empathetic and courageous child, always willing to help Samuel with the other children who came seeking treatment.

Samuel, Mateo, said one sunny morning, “Do you think your grandmother knew all this was going to happen?” Samuel, who was arranging the jars of medicinal clay for the day’s consultation, smiled. “I think she knew I was going to find a family.”

She always said that good people find each other when they need each other. And she was right. Carolina said, appearing on the terrace with a breakfast tray. You two completely changed our lives. Diego joined them, carrying reports of the cases Samuel had seen the previous week. Four children, all with problems the doctors couldn’t explain, all showing signs of improvement.

After the sessions with Samuel. Samuel, Dr. Morales wants to talk to you today. He’s very interested in documenting your methods. Okay, but I already told him I don’t know how to explain how it works. I’m just sorry. And that’s fine, Carolina said. Not everything needs a scientific explanation to work.

At that moment, the doorbell rang. It was Doña Patricia bringing her 7-year-old daughter, Valentina, who had stopped speaking after her parents’ separation. “Good morning, Samuel,” Doña Patricia greeted him. “Valentina is eager for her session today.” Samuel crouched down to Valentina’s eye level. “Hello, Valentina, how are you feeling today?” The little girl didn’t answer, but smiled shyly.

“Okay. Today I’m going to tell you a story about a princess who kept her words in a magic castle. Will you like it?” While Samuel prepared for another session, Mateo helped by organizing the space in the garden. Diego watched the two boys working together and felt immense gratitude for everything that had happened.

Diego. Carolina approached and took his hand. Have you ever thought about how different our lives would be if we hadn’t given Samuel a chance that day? I think about it every day. Mateo would still be blind, Samuel would still be in the shelter, and we would still be trapped in our own sadness.

Sometimes the best things in life come from the most unexpected situations. Diego nodded, watching Samuel gently apply clay to Valentina’s face as he told one of his magical stories. Mateo sat nearby, helping to create a welcoming atmosphere for the little girl. It was incredible how these two boys, from completely different worlds, had become not only brothers, but also partners, on a mission of healing and hope.

“Mom, Dad,” Mateo called, “Do you want to hear the story Samuel is telling? It’s really good.” Diego and Carolina came over and sat in the nearby chairs. Samuel was talking about a princess who had locked her words away in a castle because she was afraid they would hurt someone. But one day, Samuel continued.

The princess found a friend who told her that words are like seeds. They can hurt if misused, but they can heal and make beautiful things grow if used with love. Valentina was completely absorbed in the story, her eyes sparkling with interest. “And do you know what the princess did?” Samuel asked. Valentina shook her head.

She opened the castle doors and let her words out one by one. First she said, “Thank you.” Then she said, “Please,” then she said, “I love you.” Valentina smiled and very softly whispered, “Thank you.” It was the first word she had said in three months. Doña Patricia began to cry with emotion.

Valentina, you spoke. The girl looked at Samuel, the words returned, she said, still in a low voice. They never left, Samuel replied. They were just waiting for you to feel safe enough to use them again. When the session ended and Doña Patricia and Valentina left, Samuel sat on the grass next to Mateo.

Samuel, Mateo said, you never get tired of helping people. No, actually it’s the opposite. Every time I help someone I feel stronger, like Grandma is here with me. Do you miss her? Yes, but I know she’s happy. She always said she wanted me to use what she taught me to help many people.

And now I can. Diego approached the two. “Guys, how about we take a trip during the holidays? It’s been a long time since we’ve traveled together.” Mateo looked at Samuel. “Where can we go? How about visiting the place where Samuel grew up?” Carolina suggested visiting his grandmother’s grave and meeting the people she helped. Samuel smiled.

Would you do that? Of course, Diego said. She’s part of our family too. If it weren’t for her, none of this would have happened. A week later, they traveled to the small town where Samuel had grown up with his grandmother. It was a simple place, with small houses and dirt roads, but the people welcomed Samuel as if he were a hero returning home. Samuel.

An elderly woman called from one of the houses. “It’s so good to see you, young man.” “Hello, Doña Mercedes. How are you?” “Very well, thank God. And thanks to that ointment your grandmother taught me to make before she passed away, my joints don’t hurt anymore.” Throughout the day, people came to greet Samuel and tell him how Doña Esperanza had helped their families.

Diego and Carolina were impressed by the number of people who had been touched by the old healer’s work. In the afternoon, they visited Doña Esperanza’s grave. It was simple, just a wooden cross with her name and a phrase. She had planted seeds of healing that blossomed in other hands. Samuel knelt before the grave and remained silent for a few minutes.

Mateo knelt beside her. “What are you thinking about?” Mateo asked softly. “I’m giving thanks and promising that I’ll continue his work.” “We’ll continue it together,” Mateo corrected. Diego and Carolina were a few feet behind, watching the scene. Carolina was crying silently. “Diego, do you think Doña Esperanza knew Samuel was going to find us?” “I think people like her know things we can’t explain, and maybe she orchestrated Samuel’s plan to find us that day.”

When they got up from the grave, an older man approached. It was Don Ernesto, who had been Doña Esperanza’s neighbor for many years. “Samuel, my boy, it’s so good to see you well.” “Hello, Don Ernesto. This is my new family.” Don Ernesto greeted Diego and Carolina respectfully. “Doña Esperanza spoke about you,” he said, leaving everyone surprised.

“What do you mean?” Diego asked. In her last weeks, she said that Samuel was going to find a family that would need him very much, that he would have to use everything she taught him to help a boy who had lost something important. Samuel and Mateo looked at each other. “Did she say anything else?” Samuel asked. “She said that you two were going to be true brothers and that you were going to help many other families together, that her gift wasn’t going to end with her, that it was going to continue in your hands.”

Diego felt a chill. How could Doña Esperanza have known all that even before Samuel met them? Don Ernesto, Carolina asked. Doña Esperanza always knew those things. Oh, always. She had a special way of seeing people’s futures, especially when it came to healing and family.

That night, in the simple hotel where they were staying, the family had a conversation that would forever change the course of their lives. “Samuel,” Diego said, “after today I understood one thing. What you do isn’t just about healing people, it’s about connecting families, about bringing hope, and about showing that sometimes miracles come disguised as simple things,” Carolina added.

Samuel sat on the bed between Diego and Carolina with Mateo beside him. “I want to do something,” Samuel said. “I want us to start a foundation in my grandmother’s name to help not only children with problems like Mateo had, but entire families who have lost hope. It’s a wonderful idea.” Diego agreed.
How do you imagine it will work? We can train other people who have the gift of healing. We can teach Grandma Hope’s methods so they can help in other places. Mateo was excited. And we can also travel to meet other children who need help. Carolina smiled. You two have thought of everything, haven’t you? Grandma always said that a gift is only truly useful when it’s shared.Samuel explained, “If we only care for the people who come to us, many others will continue to suffer in places we don’t know.” Diego made a decision. So, let’s do it. Let’s create the Doña Esperanza Foundation and bring that hope to all of Mexico. Six months later, the Doña Esperanza Foundation was officially up and running.

Diego had used part of his fortune to create a training center where Samuel taught his methods to people who showed a natural aptitude for emotional healing. Mateo had become a kind of official assistant to Samuel, helping especially with children who were afraid of the treatment.

His own healing journey made him very effective at building confidence in other children. Carolina had discovered a special talent for caring for families while their children received treatment. She organized support groups where parents could share their experiences and fears. “Samuel,” Mateo said one morning as they prepared to receive a group of children from another state.

Do you still remember the day we met? Of course. You were wearing a white shirt and you looked very sad. And you were barefoot and dirty. Mateo laughed. Who would have thought I’d end up like this? Samuel looked around the center they had created. There were treatment rooms, a library with therapeutic stories he had written, a special garden where medicinal plants grew, and even a space for making the special clay, according to Doña Esperanza’s recipes.

Do you know what I think, Mateo? What? That Grandma was right, that the right people meet at the right time, and that when we use our gifts to help others, miracles always happen. At that moment, the first bus of the day arrived, bringing 15 families from a town in the interior where several children had problems similar to those Mateo had experienced.

“Good morning,” Samuel greeted as the families got off the bus. “Welcome to the Doña Esperanza Foundation.” A mother approached, holding the hand of a little girl about six years old who was wearing sunglasses. “Are you Samuel?” she asked hopefully. “Yes, I am. And this is Mateo, my brother.” The woman began to cry.

My daughter Camila lost her sight a year ago. The doctors can’t find anything wrong. They said maybe you could help. Samuel crouched down to Camila’s eye level. “Hi, Camila, how are you feeling today?” Camila didn’t answer, but turned her head toward Samuel’s voice. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk right now,” Samuel said gently.

“I’m going to tell you a story. It’s about a brave girl who lost her colors, but found something even more beautiful.” Mateo took Camila’s hand. “Samuel helped me see again,” he said. “And now I can see you, and you’re very beautiful.” Camila smiled for the first time since she had arrived. “How did you lose your sight?” she asked softly.

In a car accident, I was terrified to see bad things. Then, my eyes decided to stop working. Me too. I saw something awful. Samuel exchanged a glance with Camila’s mother, who nodded, confirming that it had been a traumatic experience. “You know what, Camila?” Samuel said. “Sometimes bad things happen, but sometimes beautiful things happen too.”

And when you learn to be brave, you come to see that there are far more beautiful things in the world than ugly ones. How do you know that? Because my grandmother taught me, and because Mateo showed me that it’s true. For the next two weeks, Samuel worked with Camila and the other children who had arrived. Each one had a different story, but they all had something in common.

They had been through experiences that frightened them so much that parts of them had stopped functioning. There was 9-year-old Miguel, who stopped speaking after witnessing a violent fight between his parents. There was 7-year-old Lucía, who developed constant headaches after being mugged along with her mother.

There was Alejandro, 8 years old, who began having nightmares every night after witnessing a traffic accident. Samuel treated each child individually, but always with the same elements: special clay, healing stories, and above all, lots of love and patience.

Mateo became a valuable assistant, especially with the children who were most resistant to treatment. His own healing experience made him very convincing when he said it was possible to feel well again. “Camila,” Mateo said on the fifth day of treatment, “you’re already seeing some shadows, aren’t you?” Camila nodded shyly, “A little, but I’m still scared.”

Afraid of what? Of seeing the ugly thing again. Samuel, who was applying the clay, paused for a moment. Camila, do you know that the ugly thing you saw is over? That it’s not happening anymore? I know, but what if it happens again? Then you’re going to deal with it, Mateo replied. Because now you’re braver and because you won’t be alone. You have your mom, you have your family, you have people who love you, and if I tell them what I saw, they won’t like me anymore.

Camila asked in a very low voice. Samuel completely stopped what he was doing. “Camila, there’s nothing you can say that will make us love you any less. Nothing. My mom doesn’t get sad when I tell her. She gets sad because she sees you suffered, but she’s not sad about you, she’s sad about the situation.” Camila remained silent for a few minutes.

Then, very slowly, she began to tell about the night she had witnessed a very violent fight at the neighbors’ house. She had seen things no child should ever see. Samuel let her speak without interruption, only applying the clay with gentle, comforting movements.

When he finished, he said, “Camila, you were very brave to tell us that. And you know what? None of what you saw was your fault, and none of it defines who you are. How so? You are not the bad things you saw. You are Camila, a smart and brave girl who deserves to see all the beautiful things the world has to offer.” That day, when Samuel removed the clay from Camila’s face, something magical happened.

She opened her eyes and the first thing she saw was Mateo’s smile. “You have blue eyes,” Mateo exclaimed. He laughed. “And you have very pretty brown eyes.” Camila looked around and saw her mother crying tears of joy. “Mom!” she cried, “I can see you again!” Camila’s mother ran and hugged her tightly.

“Thank you,” she said to Samuel through tears. “Thank you so much,” Samuel smiled. “There’s no need to thank me. Camila did all the work. I just helped her remember that she’s brave.” By the end of the two weeks, the 15 children who had arrived showed significant signs of improvement. Some, like Camila, fully recovered their functions.

Others would still need more time, but all were on the road to healing. “Samuel,” Diego said one afternoon after the last family left. “Do you have any idea what’s happening here?” “How so, Dad? You’re giving hope back to entire families. You’re changing the lives of hundreds of people.”

Samuel looked at Mateo, who was organizing the clay pots for next week. “We’re doing it, Dad. Me, Mateo, you, and Mom. It’s a family effort.” Carolina approached. “Samuel, a letter arrived. Today it’s from a hospital in Mexico City. They want you to give talks to doctors and psychologists about your methods.”

Samuel grimaced. “I don’t really like talking to doctors. They always want scientific explanations that I can’t give.” “But maybe it’s important,” Mateo suggested. “If you teach the doctors, they can help children in places where we can’t go.” Diego nodded. “Mateo’s right. Imagine how many children we could help if Doña Esperanza’s methods were known to doctors all over Mexico.”

Samuel thought for a moment, “Okay, but only if Mateo comes with me. And if we make it clear that it’s not about medicine, it’s about love.” A week later, Samuel and Mateo were in the auditorium of one of the largest hospitals in Mexico City, in front of nearly 200 doctors, psychologists, psychiatrists, and other health professionals.

Samuel was visibly nervous. “Friends,” he began, his voice a little shaky, “I’m not a doctor. I didn’t even finish school. I just learned a few things from my grandmother that work.” Mateo stepped up to the microphone. “My name is Mateo, and I was blind. Samuel cured me using the techniques you’re going to learn about today.”

A murmur rippled through the auditorium. Seeing Mateo, clearly able to see perfectly, made a powerful visual impact. Samuel gained confidence and continued. “The first thing my grandmother taught me is that not all illness originates in the body. Sometimes, when the soul is wounded, the body stops functioning properly.” A doctor raised his hand.

Samuel, what you’re describing is well-known in psychosomatic medicine. What we’d like to understand is exactly how you identify these cases and how you treat them. Samuel looked at Mateo, who nodded encouragingly. It’s difficult to explain how I identify them. It’s more or less like, “You know when someone is sad just from looking at them, even if they don’t speak? It’s similar to that.”

“I can sense where the sadness is hidden in the body. And the treatment?” another doctor asked. “It’s always three things. The special clay, the healing stories, and mainly making the person feel loved and safe. Can you explain each one better?” Samuel took a deep breath.

The clay is made from a specific type of soil found near mountain springs. My grandmother said that this soil draws out negative energies. I can’t explain how, but it works. The healing stories are tales I tell during the treatment. They are stories about courageous people who lost something but managed to find it again.

They help the person remember that she, too, is brave. “And love?” a psychologist asked. Mateo approached the microphone again. “That’s the most important part. Samuel didn’t heal me with just mud and stories. He healed me because he made me feel that I mattered, that I deserved to heal, that there were people who cared about me.”

Samuel nodded. My grandmother always said that medicine without love is just a remedy, and a remedy can treat symptoms, but love heals people. The audience was silent for a few moments. Samuel, an older doctor, stood up. Could you give a demonstration? Not necessarily a full treatment, but show how you would apply your techniques.

Samuel looked at Mateo again. “We can try, but we’d need someone who really needs help. You can’t fake it. I have a patient.” A psychologist raised her hand. “An 8-year-old girl who stopped speaking after her parents separated. I’ve already tried several approaches without success. Could you give it a try?” Samuel and Mateo exchanged glances.

“Can she come here?” Samuel asked. “She’s here. I brought her hoping you might meet her.” Fifteen minutes later, a shy little girl named Isabela was brought onto the stage. She was accompanied by her mother and looked suspiciously at Samuel. Samuel crouched down to her eye level. “Hello, Isabela.”

My name is Samuel, and this is Mateo. Would you like to sit here with me? Isabela looked at her mother, who nodded encouragingly. She sat down on a small chair that had been placed on the stage. Isabela, Samuel began, you’ve heard a lot about your parents lately, haven’t you? Isabela nodded. And sometimes the things you hear make you sad. Isabela nodded again.

Her eyes filled with tears. “You know what? I’m going to tell you a story. It’s about a little princess who kept her words safe because she was afraid they would make people even angrier.” Samuel began gently applying clay around Isabela’s eyes as he told the story of a princess whose parents were always arguing.

The princess thought that if she stopped talking, perhaps her parents would stop fighting too. Samuel continued, his soft voice echoing in the silent auditorium. But do you know what happened? The parents kept arguing because their fight had nothing to do with the princess. It was a fight between them about grown-up things.

Isabela was completely absorbed in the story. Her features visibly relaxed, and the princess felt very sad because her words had gone unheeded. But then a wise magician appeared and told her something very important. Samuel stopped applying the clay and looked directly at Isabela. The magician said, “Princess, your words are yours; they don’t cause fights or stop fights between adults, but they can bring joy to you and to the people who love you.

The entire auditorium was completely silent. Doctors and psychologists watched, fascinated, as Samuel conducted the session. “And do you know what the princess did?” Samuel continued. Isabela shook her head. She opened the place where she had stored her words and let them out again. And the first word she said was thank you.

Samuel gently removed the clay from Isabela’s face. “Isabela, your words are yours, they are beautiful and important. And no matter what’s happening between your parents, you can use your words whenever you want.” Isabela looked at Samuel. Then at Mateo, then at her mother in the auditorium. Very softly, she whispered, “Thank you.”

The entire auditorium erupted in applause. Isabela’s mother was crying, as were several of the professionals present. Mateo approached Isabela. “It’s so nice to hear your voice, Isabela. It’s very beautiful.” Isabela smiled and, a little louder, said, “You have a beautiful voice too.” When the demonstration ended, Samuel and Mateo were surrounded by doctors asking questions, but Samuel was more interested in knowing how Isabela was feeling.

Isabela asked, “How are you now?” “Better,” she replied. It’s as if she swallowed something heavy and now it’s out. Her mother approached. “Samuel, how can I?” Isabela hadn’t spoken in four months. There’s no need to thank her. Isabela was the one who chose to speak again. I simply reminded her that she could. In the following months, the Doña Esperanza Foundation received hundreds of invitations for conferences and demonstrations in hospitals throughout Mexico.

Samuel and Mateo, always together, brought hope to families from the north to the south of the country. Dear listener, if you’re enjoying the story, please like and, above all, subscribe to the channel. That helps a lot those of us who are just starting out. Continuing. Two years after their first meeting in the park, Samuel had become the most famous boy in Mexico in the field of children’s emotional healing.

Scientific articles have been written about his methods, documentaries have been made about the Doña Esperanza Foundation, and hundreds of healthcare professionals have been trained in the basic techniques he learned from his grandmother. But for Samuel and Mateo, the most important thing wasn’t fame; it was the number of letters that arrived every day from children they had helped.

“Look at this one,” Mateo said one morning, reading one of the letters. “It’s from a girl in Guadalajara who learned to walk again after a session with one of the doctors you trained.” “And this one,” Samuel said, taking another letter, “is from a boy in Monterrey who stopped having nightmares after he tried the clay technique he taught his mother on himself.”

Diego entered the office where the two were reading correspondence. “Guys, a special invitation arrived today.” “From where?” Mateo asked. “From the Ministry of Health. They want to officially include Doña Esperanza’s methods in the national children’s health program.” Samuel’s eyes widened.

That means all the doctors in Mexico are going to learn Grandma’s techniques. It means millions of children are going to have access to this type of treatment,” Diego confirmed. Samuel and Mateo looked at each other and shouted with joy. “Grandma Esperanza would be so proud,” Samuel said, his eyes shining. That afternoon, as they walked through the foundation’s garden, Mateo asked a question that had been on his mind for some time.

“Samuel, you never wonder what your life would be like if we hadn’t met.” Samuel thought for a moment. Sometimes he’d probably still be at the shelter, maybe helping some people in the neighborhood, but not being able to help so many. And do you think it was destiny? I think it was the love of Grandma, the hope of God, of our parents.

I believe that when you have love in your heart, you always find a way to get where you need to go. Mateo smiled. You know you completely changed my life, right? You changed mine too. Before I met you, I thought my gift was only for small things. You showed me it could be for big things as well.

And now Samuel looked around, taking in the foundation’s facilities, the gardens where other children played while waiting for their treatments, and the parents chatting in the support groups coordinated by Carolina. Now I know that love is the most powerful medicine there is, and that when you share love, it multiplies.

At that moment, Carolina approached. “Guys, there’s a family here who wants to meet you. They came from very far away.” They were a farming family from the interior of Oaxaca. The father, a simple man in worn clothes, held the hand of a little girl about five years old who kept her eyes closed the whole time.

“Are you Samuel and Mateo?” the man asked, his voice filled with emotion. “Yes, we are,” Samuel replied. “What are your names? I’m Miguel. This is my wife, Lucía, and this is our sweet daughter.” “What a beautiful name,” Mateo remarked. “We chose that name because she was born when we had already given up hope of having children,” Lucía explained.

“And now she needs help?” Samuel asked, crouching down to Dulce’s level. The girl didn’t open her eyes, but she turned her head toward Samuel’s voice. “She stopped opening her eyes after our house burned down,” Miguel explained. “We lost everything: crops, animals, our house. Dulce saw it all burning, and she hasn’t opened her eyes since.”

Samuel gently touched Dulce’s hand. “Hello, Dulce. Can you hear me?” “Yes, I can,” she replied softly. “I’m Samuel, and I have something very important to tell you.” What? Your name wasn’t chosen at random. You really are your family’s sweet hope, and I’m going to help you remember that. Mateo came closer and took Dulce’s other hand.

I was afraid of seeing bad things too, but Samuel taught me that there are many more beautiful things in the world than ugly ones. “How do you know?” Dulce asked. “Because after I learned to be brave again, I saw my family’s smiles, I saw flowers, I saw other children playing, I saw the sun shining, and I saw that there’s always something beautiful to see, even after bad things.”

Samuel stood up and addressed the parents. “They can stay here for a few weeks. The treatment will take time.” “We don’t have any money,” Miguel began. “It’s not necessary,” Diego interrupted, appearing behind them. “The foundation has houses for families who come from far away. They can stay here as long as necessary.”

Lucia began to cry. How can we repay such kindness? By letting Dulce get better, Samuel replied. That’s the only payment we want. During the following weeks, Samuel worked with Dulce, while Diego helped Miguel find temporary work in the region, and Carolina helped Lucia adjust to life in the city.

Mateo became Dulce’s best friend, spending hours telling her about all the beautiful things she could see when she was ready. Dulce, Mateo said one day, did you know there are blue butterflies in the garden? Blue butterflies? she asked, interested. Yes, and there are red flowers that smell just like vanilla, and there’s a small lake where little goldfish live.

“Do you think I’ll be able to see all that?” “I’m sure of it,” Mateo replied, “because you’re brave. Your name says it all.” Gradually, through daily sessions with Samuel and her friendship with Mateo, Dulce began to improve. First, she started opening her eyes when she was alone in the room, then when she was alone with Samuel and Mateo.

Finally, she managed to open her eyes in front of her parents. “Mom!” she cried one day, “your eyes are brown just like mine.” Lucía and Miguel cried tears of joy at seeing their daughter see again. “And Dad?” she continued sweetly. “You have wrinkles near your eyes, but they’re pretty because you smile so much.” Miguel laughed through his tears.

My daughter, you’ve come back to us. I never left, Dulce replied. I was just afraid, but Samuel and Mateo taught me that I can be brave. When Dulce’s family finally returned to Oaxaca, with Miguel having found a better job and the promise of a new house through a social program that Diego helped them access, Samuel and Mateo felt the satisfaction that always accompanies successful treatment.

Samuel, Mateo said that night, “How many children do you think we’ve already helped?” Samuel thought for a moment, then immediately, about 300, but if we count those helped by the doctors we trained, it must be thousands. “And do you think we’re going to keep doing this forever?” Samuel looked at Mateo with a smile.

Mateo, can you imagine doing anything else? Mateo laughed. No, this is the best life I could have. So, that’s it. We’re going to keep going until every child in Mexico knows they can be brave. At that moment, Diego and Carolina entered the children’s room to say goodnight, as they did every night.

“How was your day?” Carolina asked. “Perfect,” Samuel and Mateo replied in unison, making their parents laugh. “You know what?” Diego said. “I never imagined my life could be as fulfilling as it is now.” “Neither did ours,” Samuel replied, “but Grandma always said that when you follow the path of love, it always leads you to beautiful places.”

And she was right, Carolina agreed, absolutely right. As they turned off the lights and the family settled down for bed, a feeling of gratitude filled the house. In two years, they had transformed pain into healing, separation into unity, despair into hope. And in Samuel’s heart, he felt the presence of Doña Esperanza, smiling proudly to see that her seeds of healing had blossomed into something far greater than she could ever have imagined.

The years passed, and Samuel grew into a wise young man, always maintaining the simplicity and affection he had learned from his grandmother. Mateo became his inseparable companion, not only as a brother but also as a collaborator in the healing process. By the age of 16, Samuel had already written three books on children’s emotional healing, all based on the stories he told during therapy sessions.

By the age of 14, Mateo had become a respected speaker, sharing his own healing journey to inspire other families. The Doña Esperanza Foundation became an international benchmark, receiving visitors from various countries who wanted to learn Samuel’s methods, but he never lost sight of what truly mattered.

Every single child who needed help. Samuel, Mateo said one Sunday morning as they walked through the park where it had all started. Do you remember the first thing you said to me? Samuel smiled. Of course. I said I was going to rub mud on your face. And do you remember what happened seconds later? You smiled.

It was the first time I saw you smile. Mateo stopped walking and looked at Samuel. Do you know what the real miracle was that day? What? It wasn’t that I could see again, it was that we became family. It was discovering that love heals much more than any medicine. Samuel nodded, excited. And do you know what’s most incredible? That it all started with a simple phrase: “I’m going to rub mud on your face.”

And seconds later, our whole lives changed. They continued walking through the park, watching other families play, other children run and laugh. And Samuel thought about all the children who still needed help, all the families who still needed to find hope. Matthew said, “Our mission is just beginning.”

“I know,” Mateo replied, “and I’m ready for her.” Just then, they saw a family sitting on a bench not far away. A man and a woman looked worried, while a little girl, about six years old, sat between them, staring at the ground. Samuel and Mateo looked at each other. “Do you think Mateo started it?” “I think so,” Samuel confirmed.

They approached the family. “Excuse me,” Samuel said politely. “Are you alright?” The man looked up. His eyes were red as if he had been crying. “We’re going through a difficult time,” he replied. Samuel crouched down to the girl’s eye level. “Hello, what’s your name?” The girl looked up slightly.

Samuel noticed her eyes were dull, sad. “My name is Luna,” she said softly. “What a pretty name, Luna like the moon, right?” She nodded. “Luna, can I tell you a story?” It’s about a girl who lost her light, but managed to find it again. For a moment, the sparkle returned to Luna’s eyes. “You can,” she said.

And so, on a Sunday afternoon in the same park where it had all begun, Samuel started a new story of healing with Mateo by his side and the certainty that love always finds a way. Because sometimes the greatest miracles begin with the simplest words, and sometimes throwing mud in someone’s face is just the beginning of a much bigger journey—a journey of healing, love, and family.

And the seed planted by Doña Esperanza continued to grow, blossoming into new miracles each day through the loving hands of two children who learned that healing the world, one child at a time, is the most beautiful mission anyone can have. Years later, when Samuel and Mateo were adults with families of their own and children who had also learned the art of emotional healing, they still met in the park every Sunday.

Not to find children in need anymore. The Doña Esperanza Foundation already had teams across the country doing that, but to remember the day their lives intersected. “Daddy Samuel,” said Valentina, Samuel’s adopted daughter, a 6-year-old girl they had found in a similar situation to his.

Tell the story again of how you and Father Mateo met. Samuel smiled, looking at Mateo, who now had his own children playing in the park. Once upon a time, Samuel began, two boys met when they needed each other most. One was in darkness and needed light. The other had too much light and needed someone to shine it on.

“And what happened?” asked Miguel, Mateo’s son. “They discovered that together they could bring light to the whole world,” Mateo replied. “And they discovered that family isn’t just who you’re born with, it’s who you choose to stay with.” The children ran off to play, but Samuel and Mateo stayed seated on the bench, watching.

Matthew, Samuel said, “Do you have any idea how many lives were changed because of that day?” Matthew thought for a moment, “Millions, maybe millions if we count all the generations that will be affected by the children we helped. And all because you decided to trust a barefoot child who said he was going to put mud in your face.” Matthew laughed.

Actually, it’s all because you had the courage to approach. You could have just walked on by, but you chose to stop and help. Samuel looked up at the sky, where some clouds were forming interesting patterns. I think Grandma Esperanza is watching all of this from above. I’m sure she is, and I’m sure she’s proud.

At that moment, one of the foundation’s employees approached. It was Andrea, one of the first girls Samuel had trained to continue the work. Samuel Mateo said, “A special letter arrived today from the Ministry of Health.” “What does it say?” Samuel asked. “They are creating a national program based entirely on Doña Esperanza’s methods.”

It’s going to be called the Hope Program, and it will serve children in every state.” Samuel and Mateo exchanged excited glances. Grandma always said that one day her work would reach every place where there were children in need. Samuel said it, and it did. Mateo finished. Thanks to you. Thanks to us. Samuel corrected. Never forget that, Mateo.

Everything we achieved was because we are a family, and family conquers all together. That evening, as they walked back home, Samuel thought about all the children yet to be born, who might one day need help and who would now have access to Doña Esperanza’s teachings through the national program.

She thought of all the families that would be reunited, all the fears that would be healed, all the hope that would be sown, and she smiled knowing that that simple phrase, “I’m going to put mud in your face,” had become the seed of something much bigger, a legacy of love that would spread throughout Mexico and beyond.

Because sometimes the most beautiful miracles begin with simple gestures, and sometimes changing the world is simply a matter of one child trusting another and one family choosing to open their arms to someone else who needs love. And so the story that began in a park one Sunday afternoon became an endless story, a story of hope that would continue to be written in the lives of every child healed, every family reunited, every heart that learned that it’s never too late to believe in miracles again.

The end of the story. And now, dear listener, we want to know your thoughts on this story of Samuel and Matthew. Do you believe in the transformative power of love and compassion? Have you experienced situations where simplicity brought solutions that complexity couldn’t? Leave a comment sharing your experiences and reflections on this journey of healing and family.

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