Chapter 29
When I was eighty, I wrote a book.
It was the story of our lives—of the accident, of the fake paralysis, of the betrayal, of Clara’s kindness, of the fight to build our family and our life. I called it The Maid and the Millionaire, and it became a bestseller. People all over the world read it, writing to us, telling us our story had given them hope, had taught them that love could conquer anything, that kindness was more powerful than hate.
We traveled the country, doing book signings, giving speeches, talking to people about our lives. Clara was a natural, making everyone laugh, making everyone cry, telling them that no matter where you came from, no matter what you’d been through, you could be happy, if you chose love.
We used the money from the book to fund more scholarships, more schools, more hospitals. We wanted to give back, to help as many people as we could, just like we’d promised each other all those years ago.
One night, we were at a book signing in New York, and a young woman came up to us, holding a copy of the book, her eyes full of tears.
“Your story changed my life,” she said. “I was a maid, too. I was abused by my boss, I thought I’d never get out. But reading about Clara, about how she was brave, how she stood up for herself… it gave me the courage to leave. I’m in college now. I’m going to be a social worker. I’m going to help girls like me.”
Clara hugged her, crying, giving her a scholarship check right there, telling her she could do anything she set her mind to.
We left the signing that night, walking through the streets of New York, hand in hand.
“See?” Clara said. “All that pain, all that fear… it wasn’t for nothing. We’re helping people. We’re making a difference.”
I squeezed her hand. “We are. All because of you. You’re the one who taught me that kindness matters. That love matters.”
May you like
She smiled, leaning her head on my shoulder. “We taught each other.”
We went back to our hotel room, and we sat by the window, looking out at the city lights, talking late into the night, just like we always did. We were old now, our bodies tired, but our love was still strong, still bright, still the most important thing in our lives.
