Don Mateo, a 75-year-old widower, had lived completely alone in his small inherited house in the quiet rural area of Chiapas since his wife died. He had three sons — Javier, Andres, and Luis — all married and settled with their families in Mexico City.

In the beginning, they still called from time to time or sent gifts for the Day of the Dead. But over time, even those small gestures stopped. For three long years, none of them came home — not once.

Don Mateo spent his days tending to a small garden, feeding his chickens, and trudging around the yard with a hunched back and weak knees. Once, he fell at the door of his house and had to crawl to the village road to get someone to come and help him.

Until, one day, the news spread throughout the town: the government was acquiring land for a large development project and was offering compensation of up to 5 million pesos per square meter. As soon as his children found out, they returned in their SUVs, bringing their wives and children, carrying suitcases and talking excitedly about papers and appraisals.

But, when they got out of their vehicles at the entrance to the town of San Miguel de la Sierra, before even greeting their father, they met Don Ramiro, the communal chief. His face was serious, and his words even colder:

“They arrived too late. Two weeks ago, Don Mateo donated all his land to an orphaned boy from the village named Emilio. And before signing the documents, he made his reason very clear:

“I’m old and I live alone. I don’t even know where my three children are now. But this boy… He brings me food every day, cleans my house, massages my back, and buys my medicines. If anyone takes care of me, it is to him that I will leave what I have.”

The three brothers froze. Motionless, they exchanged looks of amazement and embarrassment.

Javier’s wife, unable to contain herself, shouted:

“This is an abuse!” He’s grown up! How is it possible that they allow him to sign the lands like this, without consulting us?

Don Ramiro, calm and serene, shrugged his shoulders:

“There was a lawyer. Government officials were present. The new deeds came out last week. If you want to challenge it, do it in the district court in Tuxtla Gutiérrez.

Only Luis, the youngest and quietest of the three, turned around with his eyes full of tears. He remembered the many times his father had called him, asking tenderly:

—¿Vendrás a casa en estas fiestas?

And how he always answered:

“I’m busy with a big project, Dad. I’ll make it up to you next year.

But now… there would be no next year.

Elderly parents don’t need your money. They need your time.
And sometimes, when you realize it… It’s too late.