My dad was 45 when I was born. He always wanted a daughter because he believed a home isn't complete without one.
By God's grace, my parents adopted me when I was only seven days old.
When I was two, my dad had an accident and had to stay home for a month. During that time, my brothers took care of his work, while he stayed with me and taught me math on his fingers. My dad is a spiritual man, and by the time I was two, I had already learned the entire Hanuman Chalisa from him.
As I grew older, in 5th grade, I asked my parents to attend a parent-teacher meeting at school. They came happily, but the next day, my classmates laughed and said, "Why did you bring your grandparents? Don’t you know the difference between parents and grandparents?"
That was the first time I realized my parents were older than the others. I felt ashamed and started avoiding going out with them, scared of what people might say.
One day, I broke down crying. My mom asked me why I was acting like I hated them. I told her everything.
She smiled and said, "When you were a baby, you cried a lot. It was your father who stayed up all night to comfort you, and he never felt ashamed of it. When you wanted a bicycle for your 10th birthday, he not only got you one, but he threw a big party to celebrate. He never felt ashamed of that either."
"When you were sick and threw up on him, he never hesitated to take care of you. He didn’t care when you misbehaved in front of his friends. He’s always been proud of you and never left your side."
That day, something changed in me. Slowly, I started admiring my parents, and I began to love them more than anything else.

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