he whispered. “What have you done?” “We’ve built a good life,” I said. When he asked us to leave with him, I stood firm. “They have everything they need—because we worked for it.” He left in silence,
but returned hours later, tearful and broken. “I was wrong. You’ve built something beautiful.” I forgave him. As our children ran in, one asked, “Grandpa?” He knelt down, tears in his eyes. “Yes,” he smiled. “Grandpa’s here now.”