My son got married not long ago. Of course, before the wedding, he introduced us to his girlfriend several times, and we all took a real liking to her. She was polite, modest, beautiful, and intelligent. We were truly happy for our son and put a lot of effort into preparing for their big day.
At the wedding, my daughter-in-law wore her hair up so her ears were on display. She looked lovely, and I thought nothing of it at first. But at one point, I noticed a small mole on her right ear. It was just like the one my missing daughter had. My heart nearly stopped; I had to find out the truth.
Darling, please forgive me for being so forward, but were you perhaps adopted? I asked.
She looked surprised and replied, No, why do you ask? Then she stood up and went off to dance.
Her mother, who was sitting nearby, overheard us and nodded quietly, confirming my suspicions. There was no longer any need to keep secrets. The girl’s parents explained they had adopted her when she was just a small child.
They told me that, years ago, while travelling, they found a little girl sitting alone by the side of a country lane, crying. Without thinking twice, they decided to bring her home. They had tried to have a child for fifteen years, all to no avail. So, to fill the void in their lives, they made that decision and never told anyone.
That same year, I lost my daughter. We were at the market and I looked away just for a second. In a city as crowded as London, losing a child is like searching for a grain of sand at the seaside. I looked for her for what felt like ages, but after countless failed attempts, hope deserted me.
And now, my son had chosen this girl my long-lost, deeply beloved child to be his wife. Just imagine! Out of millions of people in this country, he chose her.
At first, the whole situation felt like a nightmare. The girl’s parents were anxious and worried that the newlyweds wouldn’t be able to build a happy family. But I reassured them. After losing my daughter, I longed to heal somehow and do some good in the world. So, I had gone to an orphanage and brought home a boy. To be honest, he chose me, among all others. It helped us mend our lives, just a little bit.
And so, in the space of one evening, the secrets of two mothers, deeply devoted to their children, came to light.
Our guests, on hearing the story, couldn’t stop talking about it. In the end, a real miracle had happened.
What do you think was it mere chance, or was it fate?
