Defending Raven (Mountain Mercenaries #7)(98)
“He looks so good,” Raven whispered. “I’m so freaking happy for him.”
Dave squeezed his wife with the arm he’d wrapped around her, and he turned his attention to his son up on the platform in front of the crowd.
“Good afternoon. Provost, deans, family and friends, and of course, fellow graduates. Thank you for giving me the honor of speaking with you at our graduation today. We’ve been through a lot of late nights, gallons of coffee, and stressful meetings with our thesis advisers. But we made it. We’re here!
“And let me tell you . . . it’s literally a miracle that I’m standing in front of you today. I have a story to tell you, one that I’ve never publicly talked about. It’s more about my mother than it is about me, though.
“I was born in Lima, Peru, in a locked compound where my mother was held captive. She’d been kidnapped from Las Vegas, and forced into the human-trafficking trade. Day after day, she was abused, but when she found out she was pregnant with me, she begged her captor to allow her to keep her baby.
“He allowed it, but when the time came, she was locked in a room by herself to give birth. Then she was thrown out, separated from her baby, and with no money, she was forced to find a place to live and forage for whatever food she could scrounge. But every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, she walked ten miles to come see me. You see, the man who’d imprisoned her had decided to keep me for his own depraved reasons.”
David paused when the audience gasped.
“That’s right. My future was set on the day I was born. There was no need to educate me because all I was good for was making money for a sick, twisted, evil man. But . . . obviously that didn’t happen, because I’m standing in front of you today.
“My mother taught me English. She taught me math and my colors. She taught me the meaning of human decency.
“When I was four and a half, and hours away from being separated from my mamá forever, my father appeared like the larger-than-life hero I’d always thought he was after hearing stories about him all my life. I wasn’t even five years old, but I remember lying on the roof of a building in Lima, as the bad guys did their best to find us, looking up at the stars with my papá . . . and being happy. I was too young to understand what had almost happened to me, but not too young to know that the man who’d carried me away from the bad guys would keep me safe.
“My mother and father are my heroes. They never laughed at me when I wanted to stay up late watching YouTube videos of people solving math problems. They encouraged me to be a good person and to keep mean and judgmental comments to myself.
“What’s my point? First . . . human decency. Have it. Every time I turn on the TV, I see stories of people being robbed, shot, and hurt by others. Then I log on to my social media account and see people ripping into others, complaining about their lives, and generally being mean or miserable, simply because they feel as if it’s their right to be so. There’s nothing wrong with having an opinion, but you don’t always have to share it. The next time you pass someone begging on the street, maybe stop and talk to them. If you see someone using food stamps in the grocery store, if you’ve got the money, maybe offer to pay for their meal, give them a break. Don’t judge others until you’ve walked a mile in their shoes.
“And second, I don’t think anyone who might’ve seen the kid I was in Peru would’ve thought I’d be standing here in front of you today. But everyone has the potential to succeed if they’re only given the chance. Don’t judge someone for the clothes they wear, the color of their skin, or how much money they have.
“And Mamá? Thank you. Thank you for not giving up. For loving me enough to get through one day. Then the next. Then the next. Thank you for seeing the potential in me and loving me despite the circumstances of how I came to be. Thank you for bringing Papá into my life. For giving me a man I can look up to. Someday, I hope to be half the man he is. And thank you for showing me what a healthy, loving relationship looks like. It’s laughing, crying, fighting, but at the end of the day, it’s about enjoying every single moment of life with someone at your side.
“Today, we’ve earned our degrees, but just holding a piece of paper doesn’t make us smarter or better than someone who hasn’t had the resources and opportunities to do the same. As you go forth into your lives, remember to be decent human beings. Live every day as if it’s your last, and appreciate those around you. Thank you.”
The crowd immediately erupted into thunderous applause, and Dave stood alongside his wife. He was immensely proud of his son and felt a little teary eyed at hearing his words. Turning to Raven, he saw tears coursing down her cheeks.
Leaning down, he said into her ear, “You okay?”
Still crying, she looked up at him and said, “I’m more than okay.”
Dave used his thumb to wipe the wetness off one of her cheeks. “You sure?”
She beamed. “These are happy and proud tears. I love you.”
“Love you too.”
They turned and watched their son shake the hands of every person on the platform. Then, as he made his way back to his seat, he was stopped by just about everyone he passed with a fist bump, a handshake, or a thump on the back.
Dave beamed with pride as his son sat back in his seat. He was an exceptional young man, and Dave was proud to call him his son. He just knew David was going to make a positive difference in the world.