I had always believed my time for pursuing design had passed, consumed as I was by family and responsibilities. But at sixty, something inside me stirred. I decided to take a chance and submit my project to a prestigious design competition. The confirmation email that I had made it to the finals brought tears of joy and fear. This project was more than just a design; it was a piece of my history with my son, Daniel.
The concept was built around the floral patterns he used to draw for me as a child, transformed into sophisticated motifs that merged with modern trends. I was nervous but excited to present it. Daniel, sensing my apprehension, encouraged me to go for it and even offered to help me pick out an outfit for the presentation. Little did I know, he had something else on his mind – proposing to his girlfriend, Rosalind.
The day of the presentation arrived, and I walked onto the stage with confidence. My designs appeared on the big screen, and I could see the interest in the audience’s eyes. But just as I thought I had done well, the competition director, Rosalind, stepped onto the stage and belittled me, implying that my age was against me in the industry. I felt humiliated, but I held my head high and walked off the stage with dignity.
The next day, Daniel brought Rosalind home to meet me. I was shocked to see the same woman who had humiliated me just a day ago. We had dinner together, and I played along, pretending nothing had happened. But little did she know, I had observed her closely and realized what kind of person she was.
Days passed, and I discovered that Rosalind had stolen my project and presented it as her own. She was basking in the spotlight, and I could have exposed her deception. But I waited, knowing that stolen work always carries fingerprints. And at the engagement party, she unknowingly set herself up for a fall.
As she presented my project as her own, Daniel recognized the designs and confronted her. The truth came out, and she was caught red-handed. Daniel broke off the engagement, realizing he couldn’t marry someone who could deceive and humiliate his mother.
In the end, I lost a job opportunity, but I reclaimed my dignity. And more importantly, I still had my son’s love and respect. We sat on a park bench that night, sharing cake under the stars, and I knew that some things are more valuable than any job or recognition.
