My son Joshua grew ashamed of me once he made a life in the city. I raised him in the village, but success changed him, and he stopped visiting or calling. So, I decided to surprise him with a visit, only to find his street filled with music, cars, and decorations. To my shock, it was his wedding day — and I hadn’t even been invited.

As I approached the gate, I saw a poster of Joshua and his bride, smiling in celebration. The ceremony was already underway, and guests were gathered to watch the vows. But when I tried to enter, security guards mocked and blocked me. I cried out for my son, desperate to be recognized, but he looked at me like I was a stranger.

He denied me, called me a homeless woman, and told me to leave. But I shouted that I was his mother, and mentioned the scar on his thigh — something only I would know. That was when his fiancée, Carly, confronted him. The woman pretending to be me had no answer. The truth unraveled, and Carly called off the wedding, heartbroken by his deceit.

Carly and I stayed in touch. She drove me home, checked on me, and eventually became like a daughter. Her own parents had passed, and we found comfort in each other. I may have lost a son that day, but I gained someone better — someone who saw my worth and never tried to hide me.