After I prayed to el Señor about where I would go from there, I headed home. My parents were dead and I had no other kin, so that meant I was on my own; nobody would take care of me now.

A month passed since the burning of mis padres and I had successfully reestablished Father’s plantation, it wasn’t half as great as Father had it, but it was on its way. One day, as I was planting seeds myself, a familiar voice said to me,

“Hace mucho que no nos vemos,” Andres was watching me with his green eyes.

“I know, but I’ve been very busy, como se puede ver,” I said and stretched out my hand to emphasize what I meant.

“Gabriél, are you okay? You haven’t been here for my visits,” Andres said concerned. I knew he was concerned about me, but I was doing fine without anybody.

“I’m fine, gracias,” I said nonchalantly.

“Feliz cumpleaños,” Andres said, catching me by surprise. Then I remembered the many nights we talked. I couldn’t believe I had forgotten, “and I have a special gift for you.”