The rich man arrived in his father’s village to visit his mother

Sabina leaned down slightly and touched his shoulder.

— Do you want to come in? It’s cold. And… inside, everything is just as it was.

Timur nodded, unable to utter a word. His steps were heavy, yet sacred. It seemed as if every inch of the floor reminded him of another time: the smell of bread, his mother’s face, the fabric of the bedspread she had sewn. In the kitchen, on the table, there was still a crocheted doily, and on the wall — the icon of the Mother of God, next to which his mother lit the lamp every evening.

— I didn’t have the heart to change anything, — murmured Sabina. — Grandma said that one day you would come. And that you had to find the house exactly as you left it.

Timur sat on the chair where his father once used to sit. He stroked it with his palm, as if it were a living memory.

— Was she angry with me?

— Never. Only… longing. A lot of longing. She spoke to you in her thoughts. She set aside some of the memorial food for you at services. And always, always wished you “Happy Birthday” in a whisper, every year on your day.

Timur ran his hand over his face. So many tears held inside now poured out without restraint. He buried his head in his hands and sobbed:

— I was a fool. A proud idiot who buried his life in business. Who forgot his roots. And now… now there’s no one left to ask for forgiveness.

Sabina came closer and placed an old key in his palm.

— Grandma said that if you ever came back, the house would be yours. But she also told me something else… to give you the letter and then show you her favorite place.

They went out into the garden. Behind the house, among the old apple trees, there was a bench. That was where his mother used to sit, watching the sunset every evening.

Timur sat down on the bench. There, in the stillness of the village, with the gentle wind brushing his temples, he felt for the first time that he was home again.

Early the next morning, he went to church. He lit a candle and fell to his knees, closing his eyes, whispering in his mind:
“Mother, I came. Maybe late. But I came.”

And perhaps, somewhere beyond time, Rania was finally smiling.