THE LAST VISIT
Many years later, an old Joaquim walked slowly into Benedita’s workshop.
She was repairing a wooden machine.
He watched her for a while.
Then he smiled.
“You’re still doing it.”
She looked up.
“Doing what?”
“Fixing things.”
Benedita smiled.
“Some things are worth fixing.”
Joaquim sat beside her.
After a long silence, he asked:
“Do you remember the day I bought you?”
Benedita stopped working.
“Yes.”
“Do you remember how much I paid?”
She smiled.
“Seven cents.”
Joaquim laughed.
“Everyone thought I was a fool.”
“You were.”
He looked at her in surprise.
She laughed.
“You paid seven cents for something priceless.”
Joaquim shook his head.
“No.”
He looked at her hands.
“You were priceless before I ever met you.”
Benedita became quiet.
Outside, the sound of children learning filled the air.
Children who would never stand on an auction platform.
Children who would learn to build instead of being treated as property.
