The morning sun bathes Guadalajara in a golden glow, casting long shadows over the dusty roads and humble homes. I stand by the window of the small room I have called home for years, inhaling the familiar scent of damp earth and woodsmoke. Today is the day. Today, I leave this place—the only home I have ever known—and travel to the capital to begin my new life.
The convent there has an orphanage, a place I have dreamed of serving in for as long as I can remember. Children have always held a special place in my heart, perhaps because I grew up alone, without siblings to share my burdens. The thought of comforting a lonely child, of offering them the love and guidance I once craved, fills me with purpose.
I tighten the strap of my modest bag, the only belongings I carry with me. It isn't much—just a few changes of clothes, a worn Bible, and a locket that once belonged to my mother. My parents died young, victims of hardship and illness, their frail bodies succumbing to the cruel grasp of poverty. I was just a child when I lost them, left with nothing but memories and the kindness of the orphanage that took me in.
I have never forgotten that kindness. It is what led me to the convent, to a life of devotion and service. The sisters raised me, taught me, gave me a sense of belonging. And now, I will do the same for others.
A gentle knock on the door interrupts my thoughts. Sister Maria, an elderly nun with kind eyes and a warm smile, stands in the doorway. "It's time, Lily," she says softly.
I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. I turn for one last look at the small room, the simple wooden bed, the tiny desk where I spent countless hours reading scripture and journaling my thoughts. This is my past. My future awaits me in the capital.
With a deep breath, I follow Sister Maria outside. The other nuns are waiting for me, some offering quiet prayers, others hugging me with teary eyes. Guadalajara has been my safe haven, but now it is time to step into the unknown.
As I climb into the waiting vehicle, I whisper a silent prayer of my own. I have no idea what lies ahead, but my faith is strong.
Whatever comes next, I will face it.
I have no idea that fate has already set its eyes upon me.
We arrived in the capital of Mexico, and wow—the place looks so nice. I see cars speeding down paved roads, and tall buildings reaching for the sky. It's nothing like Guadalajara. I suppose I'm something of a country bumpkin, but I'm not ashamed of it. My whole life, I've only stayed in one place, and now, it's time to settle down and explore.
When we got off the bus, Sister Maria gathered us together and gave a brief rundown of what to expect. The convent was only a short drive from the station, and as we made our way there, I couldn't stop staring out of the window. People bustled along the streets, dressed in colorful clothes, their faces full of purpose. Street vendors lined the sidewalks, calling out their wares, while motorbikes weaved through traffic with practiced ease. It felt like a different world.
The convent was a beautiful, white-stone building surrounded by a garden. It looked peaceful, like a place where people came to find solace. As soon as we stepped inside, I felt a sense of calm wash over me.
We were shown to our rooms—small, modest, but clean. I placed my bag on the simple wooden bed and took a deep breath. This was my new home now. Excitement and nervousness warred inside me, but above all, I felt grateful.
Tomorrow, my new life begins.
---
The next morning, I woke up early, the unfamiliar sounds of the city filtering through the convent's open windows. Birds chirped somewhere in the trees, but beyond that, I could hear the faint hum of traffic and the distant chatter of people starting their day. It was so different from the quiet mornings in Guadalajara.
After prayers and a light breakfast, Sister Maria led me to the orphanage wing. The moment we stepped inside, the sound of children's laughter filled the air. My heart swelled. This was where I belonged.
I spent the day getting to know the children, helping with their lessons, and listening to their stories. Some of them clung to me instantly, while others watched from a distance, their eyes wary. I understood that look all too well. It was the same one I had when I first arrived at the orphanage years ago.
By evening, I was exhausted but content.
That night, Sister Mary, an elderly woman who addressed us the night we arrived, called us together and said Sister Jane wanted to speak to us—but me specifically. My heart skipped a beat. I had only been here a day. What could she possibly want from me?
The other sisters exchanged curious glances as I followed Sister Maria down the dimly lit hallway. The convent was quiet at this hour, the air thick with the scent of burning candles and aged wood. My footsteps echoed softly against the stone floor as we approached Sister Jane's office.
Sister Maria knocked gently before pushing the door open. "She's here, Sister Jane."
"Thank you, Sister Maria," a calm, measured voice responded. "Come in, Lily."
I stepped inside, my palms slightly damp. Sister Jane was seated behind a large wooden desk, her sharp eyes studying me carefully. She was a Middle aged woman, with black streaked hair pulled tightly beneath her veil and a posture that commanded respect.
"Close the door," she said.
I did as I was told, then clasped my hands in front of me, waiting.
She regarded me for a moment before speaking. "I hear you've had a good first day at the orphanage."
I nodded. "Yes, Sister. The children are wonderful."
She smiled slightly. "Good. That is why you were sent here—to serve. But I called you because there is something important I must tell you."
I tilted my head. "What is it, Sister?"
Her expression softened. "Next week, there will be a gathering hosted by a charitable organization. Many wealthy benefactors attend, and their contributions provide essential support for the orphanage and the church."
I nodded, listening intently.
"This year, we have decided that you will be our key representative. You will spearhead the younger nuns and engage with the benefactors. Your role is important, Lily. You must present yourself well and show them why our work matters."
My eyes widened slightly. "Me?" I asked, surprised. "But I've only just arrived."
Sister Jane gave a small nod. "Yes, but you have a natural kindness that people gravitate toward. I believe you will do well. This is an opportunity to help the orphanage in a meaningful way. Do you accept this responsibility?"
I hesitated only for a second before nodding. "Yes, Sister. I will do my best."
She smiled approvingly. "Good. Prepare yourself, Lily. This event will be unlike anything you have ever experienced."