power of a mother.

Agustina, a strong middle-class woman, married at the age of 20 due to a misunderstood love from her youth, locally enamored with a handsome boy who promised her the world, everything she could have. 21 years of marriage. And the first twenty were the best years of her life, in harmony, peace, and happiness. Until reality hit her like a rocket, bursting through her path to space.

-How is it that my child was in the hospital and you didn't notify me, you worthless bunch! - Agustina said on the phone, with a harshness uncharacteristic of a woman.

-Ma'am, as already stated by the correctional facility, they sent the child, not us. We only attended to the young man who came in the late afternoon, - the woman said with total disdain.

-Nice of you, you didn't ask any questions. Now you receive beaten children without the knowledge of their legal guardian, and if he dies tomorrow, will you call me to bury him? Will you call me when his bones dry up and his body is unrecognizable? - Agustina said, utterly furious.

-Ahhh... Ma'am, I'm afraid I don't know all the details. But the doctor who examined him found no injuries, - the nurse said.

-Fine, - Agustina said.

-Can you come to pick up the medical log whenever you like? - the nurse asked.

-You need me, don't you? You want me to sign it for who knows what, - Agustina said, hanging up the phone, totally furious. The post office was silent, listening to the shouts of the smiling Agustina and the pale woman who never gave notice of such anger; Agustina's stature wasn't much, a petite woman who stood out for her smile and warmth as a person.

She was naive, cordial, and always helped people; she loved to cook and always shared with those around her. At her age, she didn't lack suitors, like the deputy director of the post office, a man not very handsome, but one who had been after Agustina for a long time, he was a catch, through and through, he had spent his whole life without a wife, but with women. Many women had been in his life; he hated women's chatter and how they only thought about their salary until a brown, very beautiful woman brought him food, and smiled at him wholeheartedly.

'A man is what they make of him,' his older brother used to say. But this woman drove him crazy, this woman, at her forty-six years, was sweet, loving, hardworking, and everything he imagined and rambled about in a bar, drinking beer, and reflecting on the woman of his dreams who only thought about one thing, 'Billy Carson,' his son. She would even give the brat her last name, she would even let the damn brat live in her house so that his goddess would wake up next to her every morning.

-Agustina, - William Brouft said.

Agustina was alarmed; her hands rested on her cheeks. - I'm sorry for my outburst," Agustina said.

-Don't bother; we all have bad days, and sometimes, these problems affect us more than others. Tell me what happened, - said William Brouft, who, although it didn't seem like it, had been practicing this conversation in his head for ten minutes.

-Nonsense, it's just that sometimes people tend to overstep in the things they do, - Agustina said.

-I know that sometimes I think that just being a good citizen leads others to overstep with us, - William said.

-Yes, well, back to work, - Agustina said.

Leaving William with words in his mouth and with a fear of being inadequate with this woman, a great woman, who only left him speechless. With a taste of failure, for never completing a conversation with this woman who had desperation deep in her heart.

Bewildered, he could only sit in his chair, the notes on his desk scattered, unable to read more than a sentence at a time, utterly confused and exhausted, and desperate for everything that had happened

-You must be a little more sincere, - Penelope said, beside him with some knowledge of William's feelings, who was immediately spotted by Agustina as a crazy lover, who could only think about love, as if it were madness. He had changed his schedule, as the nights had been dedicated to loving Agustina in his sleepless nights, by the fire, reading a book or staring at the waves in their peace, from advice from many people, psychologists, experts, again the refuge of books, so many inconclusive conclusions that he did not find in the awake dawn.

Acts of service, - a person said, who heard him one afternoon at a café. - Serve with pleasure, serve with the heart, make selfless gestures, and maybe you'll gain her friendship. An older woman no longer wants a Casanova, those are enjoyed in youthful times, but her, you know her, that's why you need your friendship. -

-I think you're right, absolutely right, now I know what I must do, - William said, getting up from his seat.

Agustina was attending to an old man who regularly went to the post office to see if he ever received any notifications, but he was always met with a negative, characteristic of how empty the old man's mailbox was. William had seen Agustina sometimes responding to some of his letters or leaving him a gift occasionally; she was an angel, William thought.

-Agustina, I believe the last time, I couldn't tell you everything I needed to say. But it's better to talk about this in private, - William said.

Agustina tried to offer a contradiction, but William didn't take no for an answer and led her out of the office post, into a calm space. - All right, so be it, - Agustina said.

-What do you want, William? I don't have time, - Agustina said, wanting to reject William outright.

-Well, I know I'm not perfect. But, in my imperfections, I'll cover your shift for today so you can see your son and see how he's doing. I know it's not much, but you can go see him if you hurry, - William said, trying to take a deep breath, his first time not planning a conversation, the first time not planning his words.

-Why? - Agustina said.

-It's not what you want to do, you have the perfect time to see him, a two-hour trip, you'd get there before noon, and you can know his medical condition, - William said.

-Thank you, - Agustina said, but now her happiness was subdued. - I'm sorry," she said softly, meekly, for her behavior.

She didn't wait, speeding off in haste, in eagerness to reach the correctional facility and see her little one. Maybe a few weeks ago, she was somewhat anxious, somewhat desperate about how everything unfolded in recent months, and perhaps she was anxious, somewhat crazy, but she should have enjoyed the time possible in her life.

William only accepted her smile.