Ana’s Bitter Old Age.

Grandma Ana used to sit on a bench in front of her old house—the same one where she had spent her entire life. But now, it belonged to someone else, and she was only still there thanks to the generosity of the new owners. She didn’t even understand how things had come to that point. She had always believed she lived an honest life, never wishing harm on anyone, fully dedicating herself to raising her only son.

But her son hadn’t turned out to be the man she had raised… Sitting there, Ana let bitter tears run down her cheeks as she reflected on her life. Her memories went back to the day she married her beloved Iván. A year later, their son Pablo was born. Later, she gave birth to twins—a boy and a girl—but they were too fragile and didn’t survive the week. Shortly after, Iván died from appendicitis. The doctors hadn’t caught it in time, and by the time the peritonitis set in, it was too late.

Ana grieved deeply for her husband, but tears couldn’t change anything. Life had to go on. She never remarried, although she had many suitors. She was afraid Pablo would suffer having to live with a stepfather, so she gave all her love and attention to him.

Pablo grew up, chose his own path, and moved to the city. There, he studied, got married, and started a new life. Ana remained alone in the small house Iván had built for them when they married. And there, she grew old.

Every now and then, Pablo would come visit his mother. He would chop firewood, bring water, help however he could. But as the years passed, daily tasks became harder and harder for Ana. She had only a goat and a few chickens left, but even that required more effort than she could give.

One day, Pablo arrived with a stranger.

—Hello, Mom —he greeted.

—Hello, Pablito.

—This is my friend Eugenio —he said—. He wants to see the house. He’s interested in buying it. It’s time you stopped living here alone. You’ll come live with me in the city.

Ana sat down, shocked.

—Don’t worry, Mom. My wife doesn’t mind. We’ll take care of you. The kids keep asking when Grandma Ana is coming.

And just like that, the decision was made for Ana. What could an elderly woman do? She could no longer care for the house, but at least she could care for her grandchildren.

The house was sold quickly and easily. Before leaving, Ana said goodbye to every corner, full of memories. When she walked into the backyard, behind the stable, the silence broke her heart. Not long ago, cows mooed, pigs grunted, goats bleated, and chickens ran around. Now, there was only emptiness.

Kneeling down, she took a handful of the soil she had worked with for years. It was hard to say goodbye to her homeland, the village where she was born and had lived all her life. The neighbors cried as they said their farewells, promising to pray for her well-being.

Ana gave one last look to the house and got into her son’s car. There was nothing more she could do. Such is the bitterness of old age…

At first, living with Pablo was pleasant. There were no chores to worry about. The apartment was modern and convenient. Ana played with her grandchildren, watched TV, and rested.

But soon, everything changed.

With the money from the house sale, Pablo bought a new car. Ana tried to warn him that it wasn’t wise to spend it so quickly, but he cut her off coldly and told her not to worry about money. After all, she lived in a warm apartment with everything she needed—that should be enough. His words wounded her deeply. From then on, Ana noticed a shift in his and his wife’s behavior. Even the children became more disobedient and distant.

They stopped paying attention to Ana. They didn’t care whether she had eaten, slept well, or needed anything. Over time, it got worse. They stopped calling her for meals and barely spoke to her. They snapped at her, sometimes even shouted—telling her she was in the way or had said something wrong.

Ana felt lost. If I had known I would become a burden, I never would’ve sold my house. I would have rather died of cold and hunger in my own home than live like this, next to my only son, treated worse than a stranger.

She cried every day for her little house. If she could go back, she wouldn’t think twice. But the house was gone. Other people lived there now.

One day, unable to bear it any longer, she told her son:

—I never imagined, Pablito, that my old age would be so bitter while living in your home. It seems money meant more to you than your own mother. I’m leaving… all of you.

Pablo lowered his gaze and didn’t respond. As Ana crossed the door with her small suitcase, he said coldly:

—When you get tired of wandering the world, Mom, you can come back.

Ana closed the door without a word. Out in the hallway, she finally cried. What hurt the most was that her son didn’t try to stop her, didn’t hug her, didn’t say a kind word. Only silence… and rejection.

It took her more than a day to return to her hometown. She slept in train stations, hitchhiked. Her eyes stayed wet with tears the entire way. She only found peace when she saw her house in the distance. The new owners had repaired and repainted it. It looked almost the same as when she and Iván had built it.

Even though it no longer belonged to her, Ana didn’t think twice. She snuck into the attic of the old pig stable and decided to stay there. What mattered was being among the walls she had known her whole life.

Her only fear was being discovered and kicked out—just like her son had done. If that happened, she would have nowhere else to go. Unless the earth opened and swallowed her whole.

The next morning, the new owner went to the stable to feed the pigs. He poured out the feed, looked up, and said:

—Come down, Grandma Ana. We need to talk.

Ana froze. She hadn’t expected to be found so soon. But she knew she had to face it. She whispered a silent prayer and came down, ready to hear whatever fate had in store.

But what she heard… she never could’ve imagined.

—Grandma Ana —Eugenio said gently—, my wife and I know everything about you. Your son called us and said you might come here. We also know things didn’t go well with his family. After thinking it through, we want to offer you a place with us. Living in a pig shed isn’t right. And honestly, this house… it’s really yours. You and your husband built it, loved it, and took care of it for so many years. Surely there’s room here for the true owner.

—Now come in, wash up, and sit with us. My wife makes a wonderful soup!

Ana couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She began to cry—this time with tears of gratitude. Complete strangers were showing her more compassion and kindness than her own son.

As she crossed the threshold of the house, Ana could barely stand. Everything smelled like her old life. Deep down, she knew: because of her own son, she had become a stranger in her own story. Her heart wept… while her lips asked God to forgive Pablo.