We searched the lobby for the face we’d seen in the polaroid taken so long ago—the face so like the woman my daughter had grown into. But that woman was nowhere to be seen. In her place was a woman grown old before her time; her long black hair prematurely gray, the steep angles of her cheeks given way to deep creases.
“¿Eres Claudia?” I asked. She nodded, unable to take her eyes off my daughter—her daughter. Our daughter.
Claudia approached and took our daughter’s hands into her own. She spoke a stream of rapid Spanish, so full of unfamiliar slang, and so choked with emotion I barely caught a word.
I watched our daughter’s face. What was she thinking—seeing at last the almond eyes she’d only seen in her own face?
“Mil gracias,” I had planned to say. “Mil mil gracias.” But sometimes words are not enough.
—
151 words
This has been an edition of What Pegman Saw. To read more stories inspired by the prompt, click here.
Apologies for missing last week and being late this week. We’ve been traveling and I’ve been away from the computer for more than a week.
k. Rawson 
Oh wow. This is really beautiful, all the more because it’s so deeply tragic as well.
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Querida Karen.
¡Hermosa! Beautiful story. No more words needed.
Paz,
Rochelle
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Such a beautifully written story. Simply wonderful, Karen.
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Thanks so much, Neel.
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This left me feeling sad. And happy. Dissatisfied. Curious. And lonely Thank you.
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That is good, I was trying for tragic and wonderful. Thanks for reading.
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You accomplished both.
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An excellent story – the kind I wouldn’t read in front of my grandchildren, who enjoy pointing out that “grandad’s eyes are wet”, when I watch a sad (or exceptionally happy) film with them.
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So glad you enjoyed it. Thanks for reading JS!
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I tried to comment 2 days ago but my wordpress was playing up and wouldn’t let me! A very touching story crafted beautifully. 🙂
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Thank you kindly!
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The passage of time can be cruel.
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