Once, exhausted, I said to him:

“Father, I’m just your daughter-in-law… sometimes I feel a great weight on my chest.”

He just smiled gently and, with trembling hands, took mine:
“I know, daughter. That’s why I’m even more grateful. Without you, maybe I wouldn’t be here anymore.”

I’ll never forget those words. From then on, I promised myself to do everything possible to make his life more bearable. Every winter, I bought him a thick coat and a blanket. When his stomach hurt, I cooked him rice soup. When his feet hurt, I massaged them tenderly.

I never expected that one day he would leave me something. I did it because I considered him like my own father.

The Last Moment

As time passed, Tatay Ramón grew weaker. At 85, the doctor at the provincial hospital said his heart was very weak. A few days before his last night, he used to call me to his bedside to tell me stories of his youth and remind his children and grandchildren to live with honor.

Until the afternoon of his farewell arrived. While breathing heavily, he called me. He held out an old pillow, torn on one side, and in a weak voice said:
“For… Maria…”

I hugged the pillow, not fully understanding. In just a few minutes, he closed his eyes forever.

The Secret Inside the Pillow

The night of the wake, as I sat on the terrace, I opened the torn pillow. What I found took my breath away: neatly folded bills, a few small gold coins, and three old savings books.

I was shocked, then burst into tears. It turned out that he had saved all the little money his children had given him, and what he had earned from selling a small piece of land in the village. Instead of spending it, he hid it inside that torn pillow… and left it to me.

There was also a note, with almost illegible handwriting:

“Ma fille, tu es la belle-fille la plus travailleuse et la plus gentille que j’aie jamais connue. Je ne vous laisse pas de richesses, mais j’espère que cela vous aidera à vivre un peu mieux. Ne blâmez pas les frères de votre mari, parce que j’ai moi-même choisi de vous laisser cela, parce que vous avez pris soin de moi pendant 12 ans.

Larmes de gratitude

Je pleurai inconsolablement. Pas pour l’argent ou l’or, mais pour l’amour et l’acceptation qu’il m’a montrés. Je pensais que mes sacrifices n’étaient que le devoir d’une belle-fille. Mais Tatay Ramón m’a montré que les bonnes actions, même sans attendre de récompense, ne se perdent jamais.

Le jour de l’enterrement, on entendait encore des chuchotements :

« Qu’est-ce que Ramón laissera derrière lui ? Il n’a même pas de retraite.

J’ai juste souri. Parce que personne ne savait le véritable héritage qu’il m’avait laissé, non seulement en termes d’économies, mais aussi en gratitude et en confiance sincères.

Mon deuxième père

Chaque fois que je vois ce vieil oreiller, je me souviens de Tatay Ramón. Dans mon cœur, il n’était pas seulement un beau-père, mais un deuxième père qui m’a enseigné le vrai sens du sacrifice, de la gratitude et de l’amour inconditionnel.

Et chaque jour qui passe, je me répète à moi-même : je vivrai une vie meilleure, plus aimante, afin que son héritage le plus précieux ne soit jamais perdu.