Chapter 23: The Storm That Didn’t Break Them
Late spring brought a storm.
It arrived suddenly—dark clouds rolling in, wind bending the branches of the jacaranda in a way Mateo hadn’t seen in years.
Laura stood at the window.
“It’s a strong one.”
Mateo joined her.
“Yes.”
They watched as the children were rushed inside, laughter turning into squeals as rain began to fall hard and fast.
Thunder cracked.
Sofia clung to Emiliano’s leg.
“Will the tree fall?” she asked.
Emiliano knelt beside her.
“No,” he said gently. “It’s strong.”
Mateo stepped forward.
“It bends,” he added. “That’s why it survives.”
Lightning flashed across the sky.
The jacaranda swayed violently, its branches whipping in the wind, petals torn free and scattered.
Jimena stood silently behind them.
“Does it ever scare you?” she asked Mateo.
He didn’t answer right away.
Then—
“Not like it used to.”
The storm raged for hours.
Rain flooded the garden. Wind rattled the windows. The power flickered once, twice—but held.
And through it all, the family stayed close.
Stories were told.
Candles were lit.
And slowly…
the fear passed.
By morning, the storm was gone.
The yard was soaked. Leaves scattered everywhere. The marigold bent low under the weight of the rain.
Sofia ran outside immediately.
“It’s broken!” she cried.
Mateo followed her slowly.
He knelt beside the small flower, gently lifting its stem.
“No,” he said softly. “It’s just tired.”
Emiliano brought a small stick and tied it beside the stem, giving it support.
“There,” he said.
Sofia watched closely.
“Will it stand again?”
Mateo smiled.
“It already is.”
He looked up at the jacaranda.
Its branches were still.
Its canopy intact.
A few scars.
May you like
But standing.
Just like them.
