He just looked her up and down and decided he knew her whole life.
After I handed her the money, Lucia looked at me in surprise.
—Ma’am, I don’t need that much.
—Buy what you need for the child.
—I can give you back the rest.
—It’s not necessary.
Then he did something I still remember.
He took a pen out of his backpack and wrote something on the back of a receipt.
—At least give me your phone number.
I denied it.
—You don’t need to give me anything back.
Her eyes filled with tears.
—It’s not about giving him back his money.
He put the paper away.
—I wanted to thank you when I can think clearly.
Before leaving, she looked at Alberto.
I was hoping he would say something.
He didn’t.
He just left.
My husband shook his head.
—I’m sure he’ll be doing the same thing at another store tomorrow.
—You don’t know that.
—Marta, wake up. Those people live off people like you.
—Who are “those people”?
-You already know.
—No. Explain it to me.
He did not respond.
We finished shopping in silence.
We argued that night.
Not for the hundred euros. The young woman looked to be in her early twenties. She was holding a newborn baby to her chest while comparing prices in front of the formula aisle . I saw her count out several coins, put them back in her pocket, and finally approach us. Her voice trembling, she asked if we could help her buy a can. Before I could answer, my husband, Alberto, snorted and said, “Maybe you should have learned about contraception before you started begging.”
I felt so ashamed that for a few seconds I couldn’t look at him. The girl lowered her head and hugged the baby tighter . I ignored Alberto, took her hand, and gave her the one hundred euros I had for my shopping. My husband started laughing. “You just gave one hundred euros to a stranger. You’re so naive, Marta.” A month later we saw her again, but this time she wasn’t asking for anything. When I realized who she really was, I was paralyzed.
IMPORTANT: The video related to this story can be found at the end of the article.
My name is Marta and I am fifty-eight years old.
I have been married to Alberto for thirty-two years.I’m not going to turn him into a monster because he isn’t one. Or perhaps I should say that he wasn’t always one.
When we were young, he was a hardworking, cheerful, and generous man. For years we had little money, and he never let anyone leave our house hungry. However, when his small construction business started to do well, Alberto slowly changed.
He began to measure people by what they had.
Because of his car.
Her clothes.
His profession.
The neighborhood where they lived.
I pointed it out to him.
—You weren’t like this before.
He would reply:
—Before, I didn’t understand how the world worked.
That Saturday we had gone to a large supermarket because we were expecting guests.
That’s where the young woman appeared.
Her name, although we didn’t know it yet, was Lucia.
She was wearing sweatpants, an oversized jacket, and her hair was haphazardly pulled back. The baby was asleep, wrapped in a gray blanket.
When she asked for help, Alberto didn’t even ask what had happened.He just looked her up and down and decided he knew her whole life.
After I handed her the money, Lucia looked at me in surprise.
—Ma’am, I don’t need that much.
—Buy what you need for the child.
—I can give you back the rest.
—It’s not necessary.
Then he did something I still remember.
He took a pen out of his backpack and wrote something on the back of a receipt.
—At least give me your phone number.
I denied it.
—You don’t need to give me anything back.
Her eyes filled with tears.
—It’s not about giving him back his money.
He put the paper away.
—I wanted to thank you when I can think clearly.
Before leaving, she looked at Alberto.
I was hoping he would say something.
He didn’t.
He just left.
My husband shook his head.
—I’m sure he’ll be doing the same thing at another store tomorrow.
—You don’t know that.
—Marta, wake up. Those people live off people like you.
—Who are “those people”?
-You already know.
—No. Explain it to me.
He did not respond.
We finished shopping in silence.
We argued that night.
Not for the hundred euros.Because of the cruelty.
“You could have said no,” I told him. “No one was forcing you to help her. But why humiliate her?”
—Because someone has to tell them things as they are.
—And do you know what they’re like?
—A young woman with a baby asking for money in a supermarket. You don’t need to investigate too much.
—Exactly.
Alberto is laughing.
—You always want to save everyone.
That phrase hurt me because years before he had admired me precisely for that.
When our children were small, I helped out at a neighborhood association. Alberto cooked with me on weekends.
Now he seemed to be ashamed of anyone who needed help.
Several days passed.
I once thought about Lucia and the baby , but then life went on.
Until exactly four weeks later.
It was Wednesday.
Alberto had a very important meeting with a group of investors. His company was going through a difficult time that he had tried to hide from me.
He had lost two big contracts.
One project was behind schedule.
And it needed funding to keep employees and suppliers up to date.
He left that morning feeling nervous.
At half past eleven I received a call.
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