🌸 The Smile She Once Gave the World — And the Day Everything Changed
There are some people whose presence feels like sunlight — gentle, warm, and comforting.
My mom has always been one of those people.
She is the kind of woman who could turn an ordinary moment into something special. While working long hours, she would create tiny handmade figures out of scrap materials, gifting them to anyone who needed a smile. She never asked for anything in return. She simply loved making others feel seen, valued, and happy.
But one December afternoon in Seattle changed her life in a way none of us could have imagined…
and it changed mine forever.
On December 5, she was out delivering food — something she has done countless times to support herself and our family. She was standing at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to change, when everything shattered in a single violent moment.
A man came from behind her…
carrying a wooden club…
with nails embedded into it.
There was no argument.
No warning.
Not even a chance to turn her head.
He struck her across the face with full force.
She remembers the sound of the hit, the sudden collapse to the ground, the overwhelming pain, and the terrifying feeling of darkness. When strangers rushed to help her, she could only hear their voices — because she could no longer see out of her right eye. Blood poured down her face as she clung to consciousness, trying to understand what had happened and why.
At the hospital, the truth came crashing down.
Multiple facial fractures.
Fractures in her skull.
A broken nose.
Permanent damage to her right eye.
The doctors told us words no family is ever ready to hear:
She would never see from that eye again.
And it broke her.
This attack didn’t just take her vision.
It took her independence.
Her ability to work.
Her sense of safety.
Her confidence.
Her smile — the smile she once gave the world so freely.
Now she faces months of surgeries, long days of recovery, and the emotional weight of trying to rebuild a life she no longer recognizes. Simple things — walking alone, pouring a drink, crossing a street — have become frightening challenges.
Yet even through the pain, I still see glimpses of the woman she was…
the woman who made tiny figures to brighten a stranger’s day.
The woman who believed there was always something good in the world.
The woman I love more than words can hold.
All I want — more than anything — is to help her feel like herself again.
To help her heal.
To help her find light in a world that turned dark too quickly.
To see her smile again… even just once.
This is her story.
A story of pain, survival, and the fragile hope we are fighting to protect every day.
