After losing my husband, life turned upside down. Our modest but happy life vanished overnight, leaving just me and my 12-year-old daughter, May. I grieved, but I couldn’t crumble — May needed me. I took a job as a bank manager, juggling long hours and motherhood, determined to give her the future we dreamed of.

May blossomed. Bright and determined, she earned her way to an Ivy League university. There, she met Carl, and love quickly followed. Soon, wedding bells were ringing. But Carl’s wealthy parents, Dave and Viki, made no secret of their disdain for our “quaint” background. Their snide remarks stung, but I focused on May’s happiness.

Weddings are expensive, and though I struggled, Carl generously covered my dress. His parents weren’t thrilled. The wedding was beautiful despite their coldness. Afterward, things calmed, and May and Carl’s love grew stronger. Then came the joyous news — May was pregnant!

The baby shower, however, became a fiasco. Dave and Viki planned a lavish party, charging $1,500 per guest. I couldn’t afford it, but with help from friends, I scraped the money together. Just before the event, financial scandal struck — the in-laws’ accounts were frozen due to embezzlement. The shower was canceled.

I hosted a humble yet heartfelt shower at home instead. Surprisingly, many guests came and loved the warmth of our simple celebration. Even Dave and Viki showed up — and were humbled by the genuine joy.

Later, they asked for my help. I offered it, because in the end, family wins. And maybe, just maybe, love changes hearts.