Aunt Carmelita said that when you’re sad, you can plant a seed and take care of it every day. Then, when the plant grows, you remember that you can do something good even when you’re sad. And do you want to plant something? I want to plant a red rose for Mom. Alejandro felt his eyes fill with tears.
For the first time in months, Valentina was sharing with him the lessons she had learned from Carmen, but naturally, without forcing anything. They spent the whole afternoon planting rose bushes in the garden. Valentina explained each step as if she were the teacher, repeating the words she had clearly learned from Carmen.
Daddy, Aunt Carmelita said the soil needs water, but not too much, because otherwise the little plant will get sick. Aunt Carmelita knows a lot about plants. Aunt Carmelita knows everything. She said her grandmother, who went to heaven, just like Mom, taught her these things. Alejandro began to understand that Carmen wasn’t just taking care of Valentina, but sharing with her a way of coping with loss that she herself had learned.
That night, after Valentina fell asleep, he lay watching the small rose bushes planted in the garden. For a moment, he felt a peace he hadn’t experienced in months. The next morning, he received a call from Valentina’s psychologist, Dora Patricia Gutiérrez. “Mr. Carlos,” she said, “I’d like to make an unscheduled visit today to observe Valentina in her home environment.”
It’s part of the protocol for evaluating her progress. Of course, Doctor. What time? Around 3 p.m., if that’s not a problem. Carlos informed Dolores about the visit and asked that everything proceed as normal. He decided not to mention it to Carmen, wanting the psychologist to witness the natural interaction between her and Valentina.
Dr. Patricia arrived promptly at 3:00. She was a 50-year-old woman with over 20 years of experience in child psychology. Carlos greeted her in the waiting room. “How are you, Valentina, Doctor?” he asked. “That’s why I’m here. She’s showing remarkable progress in the sessions, but I want to understand the environment that’s contributing to this improvement.”
They were interrupted by laughter coming from the kitchen. Dolores appeared in the living room, looking disapproving. “Mr. Carlos, Carmen is making a mess in the kitchen with the girl again.” “Leave them alone,” Carlos said. “Doctor, would you like to see how my daughter is interacting?” They walked discreetly to the kitchen.
The scene they witnessed left the psychologist impressed. Valentina was standing on a sturdy bench, helping Carmen make cookies. The two were chatting animatedly about geometric shapes as they molded the dough. “This one is round like the sun,” Valentina said, showing off a cookie.
“Very good, and what shape is this one here?” Carmen asked, “Square like my bedroom window.” Perfect, you’re very clever, princess. Dr. Patricia observed the interaction for almost 15 minutes. Valentina was relaxed, communicative, demonstrating knowledge about shapes, colors, and measurements. More importantly, she showed self-confidence.
“Mr. Carlos, may I speak with the person who is working with Valentina?” the psychologist asked. “Of course, Carmen, can you come here?” Carmen appeared in the room, wiping her hands on her apron, clearly nervous because she didn’t know who the visitor was. “Carmen, this is Dr. Patricia, Valentina’s psychologist.” “Nice to meet you, Doctor,” Carmen said, even more nervous.
“Carmen, may I ask you a few questions about how you interact with Valentina?” “Of course, Doctor. How long have you worked here?” “Five months, Doctor.” “And have you always had this close relationship with the girl?” “From the very first day, Doctor. Valentina is a special girl, very affectionate. I couldn’t remain indifferent to her.”
How would you describe Valentina’s emotional state when you started working here? She was very sad, Doctor. She didn’t talk, she didn’t play, she was always clutching the doll that smells like Mom. It broke my heart to see her like that. And what strategies did you use to connect with her? There weren’t any strategies, Doctor. I just treated her the way I would have liked to be treated when I lost my mother. With patience, affection, without forcing anything.
She has specific training in working with grieving children. Carmen hesitated, looking at Carlos. “She can tell the truth,” he said. “I have a background in education, Doctor, but I learned about grief through experience. When I was a child, Dr. Patricia wrote some things down in her blog.”
Mr. Carlos, may I speak with you privately? In the office, the psychologist was very direct. Valentina’s progress is exceptional. In five months, she went from selective mutism to normal communication, from social isolation to active interaction. This is rare in cases of childhood grief. So, Carmelita is doing a good job. She’s doing an exceptional job. She has a natural intuition for working with traumatized children.
More importantly, she’s not forcing the recovery. She’s allowing it to happen organically, but that’s for sure. Valentina isn’t becoming overly dependent on her. Mr. Carlos, children who have experienced trauma need secure figures to reconnect with the world. Carmelita has become that figure for Valentina. The important thing is that she isn’t replacing you as a parent.
She’s building a bridge between Valentina and the family. How so? Valentina talks about you constantly during the sessions. She talks about how her dad works to take care of her, how she wants to make him happy, how they planted flowers together. Carmelita isn’t creating dependency; she’s strengthening family bonds.
Carlos felt relieved and confused at the same time. And Carmelita’s age isn’t a problem; she’s so young. On the contrary, Valentina doesn’t see Carmelita as a substitute mother figure. She sees her as a reliable older sister. That’s much healthier psychologically. That night, Carlos reflected on everything he had discovered.
Perhaps Dolores was wrong about Carmelita’s intentions. Perhaps she should trust what she saw more than what she feared. The next morning, Dolores looked for him at his office before he left for work. “Mr. Carlos, we need to talk urgently.” “What’s wrong, Doña Dolores? I’ve discovered something serious about that Carmelita.”
Carlos sighed, already expecting another accusation. “Speak up. She doesn’t live where she said she does. The address she gave is false.” That really surprised Carlos. “How so?” “I sent my niece to check. No one named Carmelita Rodríguez lives at that address with any siblings. In fact, it’s a family home that’s never even heard of her.”
Perhaps she moved recently, or perhaps she’s lying about everything, Mr. Carlos. What if she doesn’t have siblings to support? What if that whole story is a lie to elicit your sympathy? Doubt returned to haunt Carlos. If Carmelita was lying about where she lived, what else could she be lying about? I’ll confront her today, he said.
