That boy was ten-year-old Minh. He had no parents. All he remembered was that when he was barely two, old man Bay, an old beggar living under a bridge, found him inside a plastic tub that had been swept away by the canal.
At that time, Minh couldn’t speak yet; he only cried until his voice was gone. Around his neck was a red bracelet made of almost faded thread and an old piece of paper with a written message:
“Please, whoever has a good heart, take care of this child. His name is Minh.”
Grandpa Bay had nothing: his legs were weak, and all he owned was an old sack. Still, he took the boy to his shelter. They shared the pieces of bread they picked up on the street. Despite the poverty, he always told Minh:
“When you grow up, if you ever find your mother, forgive her. No mother abandons her child without her heart aching.”
Minh grew up amid the shouts of bottle collectors, at bus stops, and under the bridge. He had never seen his mother’s face. According to Grandpa Bay, the paper that came with it had a lipstick stain and long hair—a sign that his mother was probably young and scared of the responsibility.
One day, Grandpa Bay came down with a severe cough and had to be taken to the hospital. With no money, Minh was forced to beg more frequently.
He heard that a lavish wedding would be held in a nearby village. Hungry and thirsty, he dared to approach the doors of the event.
He stood silently, staring at the tables laden with food. A cook, seeing him, took pity on him and offered him a small box of warm sweet rice.
“Eat over there on the side, okay? Don’t let the others see you.”
Minh thanked her and sat to the side, eating while watching the joyful celebration: elegantly dressed guests, laughter, and music. He whispered to himself,
“Does my mother live in a place like this… or is she as poor as me?”
Suddenly, the master of ceremonies announced,
“And now, let’s give a big round of applause for our beautiful bride!”
The music began. Everyone turned toward the red-carpeted staircase. And there descended the bride—wearing a white dress, long curly hair, and a smile as bright as the morning light.
But that wasn’t what paralyzed Minh. On the bride’s wrist hung a red bracelet—identical to the one he had worn since childhood!
Minh’s eyes filled with tears. He got up and ran to the altar, his voice trembling,
“Auntie… that bracelet… are you my mother?”
The bride froze.
That voice… that gaze… She looked at her own wrist—the bracelet she had woven for her little son, whom she had been forced to abandon out of fear and shame when she was barely seventeen.
She fell to her knees, her voice breaking:
“My God… Minh… is that you? Are you alive?”
The entire room fell silent.
She hugged the boy, sobbing:
“Forgive me, son… I searched for you for so many years… I never imagined finding you today…”
Minh remained still, surprised, but felt the warmth of the hug and the tears falling on him. Slowly, he hugged her back, gently, afraid that if he moved too much, everything would disappear.
Silence filled the room. The groom’s family was shocked, not knowing what to say. But seeing the bride’s sincere tears—the tears of a mother tormented by guilt—they understood the truth.
The groom approached, took the bride’s hand, and said:
“I already knew. You told me, and I still loved you. Your past doesn’t change how I feel about you. And now I know more than ever that you are a good woman. If this is your child, then… from today on, you will never be separated again.”
The groom’s parents wept. The mother approached, took the bride’s hand, and said:
“My child, the past is behind us. From today on, you are part of our family. And this child… will be our grandchild.”
The bride trembled, crying with joy.
“Thank you all… for accepting me, for your kindness. I promise to be a good wife, mother, and daughter-in-law to this family.”
Everyone applauded. The wedding was no longer just a ceremony, but a day of reunion between mother and son, a day of forgiveness and love.
From then on, Minh was no longer a beggar. He became the son of a mother who had suffered for her regret, and part of a family that understood.
“No mother wants to abandon her child. But even if fate breaks the bonds, blood and love remain strong, and the day will come when they will be reunited.”
After the wedding, the couple returned to the small shelter under the bridge, carrying fruit, food, and an envelope of money for Grandpa Bay.
The woman knelt, weeping:
“Grandpa, please… let me take Minh with me. Allow me now to fulfill my duty as a mother.”
The groom also bowed:
“Thank you for everything you did for Minh. If it weren’t for you, he wouldn’t be here today. We promise to take good care of him and always visit him.”
Grandpa Bay smiled, even though tears were rolling down his cheeks:
“My only wish was to see you together. Now it has been granted. I don’t need money—your kindness is the greatest gift.”
Minh hugged him tightly:
“Lolo, I’ll never forget you! We’ll always come to see you—me, Mom, and Dad.”
And so it was. Every weekend they returned, bringing food, medicine, and smiles. Minh excitedly told us about his studies.
Grandpa Bay, that old beggar, became the richest man in the world—rich in love and gratitude. Every time they said goodbye, their eyes shone with happiness, full of peace and tenderness.