Andrew checked his watch. It was only 9:00 AM.
— “Not yet, buddy. He’s coming at two.”
— “Can I come down for breakfast?”
— “Of course.”
As Andrew went to help Matthew, Karen stayed in the kitchen, clearly wrestling with her feelings. The morning dragged on. Matthew was restless, asking a dozen questions about Sam. Andrew tried to manage expectations, explaining that nothing might happen and that it was important not to get his hopes too high.
At exactly 2:00 PM, the doorbell rang. Andrew opened it to find Sam standing at the gate. The boy had clearly tried to clean himself up. His clothes were still simple and patched, but they were fresh. He was carrying a small canvas bag.
— “Good afternoon, Mr. Walker. I’m on time.”
— “Yes, you are, Sam. Come on in.”
Sam looked around as they walked up the driveway. It was obvious he’d never been in a neighborhood like this. His eyes took in the manicured lawn and the impressive facade of the house.
— “Wow, this place is huge,” he said, without a trace of envy.
— “We’ve lived here about ten years,” Andrew explained, trying not to sound pretentious.
When they entered the living room, Matthew was already waiting on the sofa with Karen beside him. The tension was palpable.
— “Hey, Matthew!” Sam said enthusiastically.
— “Hi, Sam. I’ve been waiting all morning.”
Sam walked over and, without asking, sat on the floor next to the sofa, bringing himself to Matthew’s level.
— “How’d you sleep? Have any good dreams?”
— “Yeah. I dreamed I was running on the beach. It’s been a long time since I dreamed I could see.”
Sam nodded as if he understood perfectly.
— “My grandmother always said dreams show us what the heart wants most, and sometimes they show us what’s possible.”
Karen intervened, her voice polite but cool.
— “Sam, we’d like to know a bit more about you first. Where are your parents?”
Sam looked down.
— “My mom left when I was a baby. My dad… he had to go away when I was five. I lived with my grandmother after that.”
— “And now?”
— “Now I stay with my Aunt Rose sometimes. But she has a lot of kids. When there’s no room, I stay at the church shelter.”
Andrew and Karen exchanged a look. Sam’s situation was even tougher than they’d realized.
— “And what about this technique of your grandmother’s?” Andrew asked.
Sam opened his canvas bag and pulled out a small glass jar filled with what looked like ordinary mud.
— “It’s special earth. My grandmother said it absorbs the pain and the sadness that gets stuck in the body, especially when someone has lost something important and can’t let it go.”
— “How does it work?” Matthew asked.
— “Sometimes, when something really bad happens, a person gets so scared that a part of them hides deep inside, like a little animal curling into a ball.”
Karen listened intently, despite the skepticism on her face.
— “And how exactly would you apply this to Matthew?” she asked.
Sam looked at Matthew.
— “Can I touch your face again?”
Matthew nodded. Sam gently traced the boy’s features with clean hands.
— “The earth goes on the eyes and around them. It stays for about fifteen minutes. During that time, I tell the stories my grandmother told me. Stories about brave people who found what they thought they’d lost forever.”
— “And that’s it?” Andrew asked, genuinely curious.
— “My grandmother said the earth draws out the bad stuff, and the stories remind the person who they really are inside.”
Karen shook her head.
