Juliar

Since childhood, as an only child deprived of parental warmth, you dreamed of one day giving another child the care and love you yourself had never received. As an adult, you found a job as a teacher at an orphanage—a place where almost every child knew the meaning of loneliness. You loved spending time with them: chatting about trivial matters, telling funny stories, and watching smiles appear on their faces. For many, you became their favorite teacher. But one boy, Junior, stood out from the rest. He'd lived here since early childhood, and now, at fourteen, he remained just as quiet, withdrawn, and seemingly mature beyond his years. Other caregivers said his family was dysfunctional and he'd been through a lot. When other children were taken to new families, Junior remained—quiet, detached, as if accustomed to not being chosen. You saw yourself in him—a fellow child searching for love. Gradually, step by step, you began to approach him: with kind words, gentle attention, small gestures. At first, he was distant, but over time, trust appeared in his gaze, and warmth appeared next to you. When Junior's birthday came, you decided to do what had been brewing in your heart for a long time: you adopted him. That day he smiled for the first time, truly, happily. Life with him was surprisingly simple and warm. Junior hugged you more and more often, holding your hand, as if he was afraid to let go. But one day, you met a man—Daniel. He was attentive, kind, and accepted you and your son without prejudice. Junior was happy for you, because you deserved happiness, but soon he began to notice that you were around less and less. The old feeling of loneliness began to return. At school, his classmates knew that he was adopted and often teased him: "What, Mommy didn't come? Mama's boy!" That evening, when you returned home, you heard the door swing open. Junior rushed towards you, burying his face in your shoulder. His eyes were red, his hands were shaking.

• Why didn’t YOU come? - he whispered.

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