The rain was pouring down and the wind was whipping through Mexico City that night. Glaiza had just finished her shift at a public hospital. Tired, hungry, and soaked, she was walking toward her small apartment when she saw a bundle next to a dumpster. It was a man, lying on the ground, his face full of mud and blood, shivering with cold. His clothes were torn and dirty, as if he hadn’t washed them in months. People passed by, but everyone looked down on him and some even kicked him out of the way.

As a nurse, Glaiza couldn’t stand the scene. She walked over. “Sir? Are you okay?” she asked. The man didn’t answer, but his eyes were wide, filled with fear and confusion. Glaiza noticed a deep wound on his head. She knew that if she left him there, he would die from infection or the cold. Despite the fear that it might be dangerous, his heart decided to act. She helped him up, carried his weight to a taxi, and drove him to her modest apartment.

For weeks, Glaiza became the man’s nurse. She bathed him, cleaned his wounds and gave him old clothes from his late father. When the man began to recover, Glaiza was surprised. He was handsome: straight nose, smooth skin, elegant bearing… only covered by dirt before. But there was a problem: he didn’t remember anything. He didn’t know his name or where he came from. He only knew fear. Glaiza called him “Kiko”.

With nowhere to go, Kiko agreed to stay while he healed. He became a kind and helpful young man. He cooked, cleaned the house, and waited for Glaiza when he returned from the hospital. Despite the amnesia, he was intelligent. He spoke perfect English and understood complex concepts, not knowing why he knew them. In their simple life, they began to fall in love. Glaiza loved Kiko, not because of who he was before, but because of who he was now: kind, loving, and loyal.

But their relationship did not go unnoticed. The neighbors and the landlady began to murmur, “Look at the nurse with a homeless man!” “Yuck, he must be sick!” The situation worsened when Glaiza became pregnant.

At the hospital, she became the target of ridicule. Doctors and nurses who once admired her dedication now looked at her with disdain. “What a waste, Glaiza. You had a bright future and you ruined it for someone with no name and no money,” the head nurse told her. Under pressure and accused of “immorality,” her contract was not renewed. Glaiza lost her job while pregnant.

She returned to the apartment crying. Kiko hugged her. “I’m sorry, Glaiza. This is my fault. I’m a burden to you,” she cried. “No, Kiko. I love you. We’ll get through it,” she replied. But the ordeal was just beginning. The next day, the landlady knocked on the door. “Glaiza! Get out of here! I don’t want scandals in my building. Maybe you bring diseases!”

They were kicked out. With nothing, Glaiza and Kiko moved to a humble settlement near the train tracks. Life was hard. Glaiza sold tamales and bread, even while pregnant. Kiko collected bottles and newspapers. Sometimes, when she could, she would buy Glaiza a rose. “I can’t give you a palace, but I promise you’ll never be alone,” she would say.

One day, while Kiko was selling what he had collected at the market, a caravan of luxury cars passed by: a black Rolls Royce and three Land Cruisers. They stopped for traffic. Kiko saw his reflection in the glass of the Rolls Royce and an intense pain went through his head. He fell to his knees in the street, screaming, holding his head.

“Lord! Lord!” shouted passers-by.

Inside the Rolls Royce, an older woman saw the man kneeling. His eyes widened. “Stop the car! Now!” he ordered.

The woman went downstairs accompanied by armed guards. The crowd was frightened, thinking there was an arrest. The woman approached Kiko, who was writhing in pain, and touched his face.

“Miguel? Son? Is that you?” the woman sobbed.

Kiko looked up. When he saw his face, his memory returned: the accident, the fall off the cliff, his name, his life.

“Mom…” he muttered before fainting.

Miguel was taken to the best hospital. Glaiza found out about it through market rumours. “Your husband was taken by the rich! Maybe they’ll lock him up!”

Terrified, pregnant and penniless, she rushed to the hospital, but security stopped her. “A tramp can’t come in!” shouted a guard. “My husband is inside! Kiko!” cried Glaiza.

Just then, Doña Consuelo, owner of the largest maritime transport company in Mexico, came out. He heard Glaiza’s crying.

“Let her pass,” he ordered.

Upon entering, Glaiza saw Kiko—Miguel—in a plush bed, hooked up to serum, surrounded by doctors. His appearance was now that of a prince.

Glaiza trembled. “Kiko?”

Miguel opened his eyes and looked at her. For a few seconds, Glaiza feared he wouldn’t recognize her. That he despised her for being poor.

But Miguel smiled and took his hand.

“Glaiza… I love you,” he said.

Glaiza cried tears of relief. I hadn’t forgotten her.

Doña Consuelo explained everything: Miguel had disappeared a year ago after an accident. They thought he was dead. He was a multimillionaire, a Harvard graduate, heir to an empire.

Miguel looked at his mother. “Mom, this woman took care of me when I didn’t remember anything, she clothed me, fed me, loved me when I was a despised tramp. She is pregnant with my son.”

Doña Consuelo hugged Glaiza. “Thank you, daughter. Thank you for taking care of my son. I owe you Miguel’s life.”

Michael recovered and returned to the settlement, not to stay, but to show those who had despised them the truth. He arrived by helicopter, with Glaiza dressed as a designer.

The landlady, who had kicked them out, almost fainted when Miguel bought the entire building and the land. “I buy it,” Miguel said, “to build a free hospital for the poor. And you, look for a place to live in peace.”

Glaiza’s colleagues paled when they learned that the new owner of the hospital was Miguel’s family.

Glaiza called the head nurse who had humiliated her. “Ma’am,” he said, “I’m not going to take revenge. But I hope that the next time you see someone poor or dirty, you don’t judge them. Because behind the dirt, there is also a beating heart.”

Miguel and Glaiza were married with a grandiose ceremony. Her son was born heir to billions, but above all, he grew up with the story of a love that began on the street—a love that did not look at appearances, but at heart.

Glaiza showed that true wealth is not in the wallet, but in the person. And whoever loves in the midst of adversity will always be blessed in the end.